In Time

Synchronize

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. 

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I do apologize.  I meant for this to be posted on my writing blog, not on this one.  That’s what happens when you don’t double check. So I’m going to re-blog this on my other blog, and then I’ll delete it from here 🙂

 

From the Merriam-Webster online dictionary:

synchronize (v.)Look up synchronize at Dictionary.com1620s, “to occur at the same time,” from Greek synkhronizein “be of the same time,” from synkhronos “happening at the same time” (see synchronous). The transitive sense of “make synchronous” is first recorded 1806. Of timepieces by 1879. Related: SynchronizedsynchronizingSynchronized swimming is recorded from 1950.

The prefix syn means united, acting, or considered together; thus the name of the once popular boy band, ‘N Sync that got its start in 1995.

Chronos was the Greek god of time.  Interesting, always, where words come from.

Children are often taught to play a musical instrument, especially the piano, in time with a metronome, a mechanical device that kept a stead rhythm to help the student establish  a sense of timing.  The musical application of synchronicity is surely of the most interest to me, although I do understand its importance in hundred of other  applications.

For instance, dancing is a form of synchronous  movement. There is something just delightful in watching dancers who are in exact rhythm with each other–grace, timing, agility.

 

 

 

For you youngsters out there, this was perhaps the most famous Hollywood dance couple of all time–Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Perfectly synchronized, always a pleasure to watch.

Singing also needs synchronicity.  A choir is an ensemble in which no one voice or singer stands out. The idea is to blend so perfectly that it would seem to be just one voice.

 

 

You probably won’t want to watch the whole concert. I used this mainly because it so clearly demonstrates what a really good choir should sound like.

 

And then, of course, there is synchronized swimming:

 

 

Some of you will recognize Esther William, from the 1930’s and 40’s, who became known as “America’s Mermaid.” It seems to me she did some movies that included her in synchronized swimming routines, but I could be wrong.  Long time ago.

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Okay, so I looked it up, and yes, she helped popularize the sport in her 40’s and 50’s films.

So that’s enough. I’m finished 🙂

 

 

 

 

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I Wish I Could Put a Bandaid on it!

I’ve just realized something.

Looks like I’m down for the count. Not sure what that means yet. I have an MRI scheduled on Monday the 10th, but I can’t get in to see the surgeon until Nov 14 and I have no idea how long before he schedules surgery, IF he schedules surgery.

Remember believing that putting a Band Aid on an owie made it feel better?  Does any have a very large Band-Aid?

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In the meantime, I can’t work. That’s not good for us at all, but there’s just no way I can climb stairs, sit in my chair several hours. I’m taking strong pain meds and muscle relaxers, and the doc gave me renewal indefinitely. I find that rather scary. The pain is in my sacroiliac joint, left side. So that involves the sciatic nerve, and basically i’m a little old woman tottering around with either my cane or a walker that Terry had stashed away in the attic. You need a tool? Come on over. Terry has one. Probably two or three 🙂

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So, for my praying friends, please pray:
1) Relief from the pain
2) The MRI, in which I will be entombed for around 30 min to an hour. It scares the tech when I scream and cry
3) I’m on a list for “if there’s a cancellation we’ll call you” for the appt. on Nov. 14. Please pray that I can get in sooner. Not that I want anyone to suffer, just that someone will miraculously grow stronger bones.
4)I can’t work with this kind of pain. I’m trying to figure out if there’s some way I could see my clients using Skype but there are difficulties with that.
5) Pray for Terry. He always takes such good care of me when I’m sick, but I worry about his own pain with his injured foot.
6) If I do have to sit out the next two or three months, pray that I will be inspired to use the time to write. I need to write “The Book” that’s been rolling around in my head for several years now. Maybe I could call it “Rolling Stone.” Oh, no. I can’t. Some rock group already has that name.

Finally, it would be really cool if I could delete the “celebrating a birthday” thingy. I have no idea what I did to get it there.

Well. It’s gone. Yay.

Infirmity of the Flesh

Galatians 4:13-14, “Ye know how through infirmity of the flesh I preached the gospel unto you at the first, And my temptation, which was in my flesh, ye despised not, nor rejected; but received me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus.”

Wouldn’t you like to know what Paul’s infirmity was?  Apparently it was active and obvious when he first ministered to the people of Galatia–in Antioch of Pisidia, Iconium, Lystra and Derbe. He reminds them here of how he preached truth to them in spite of his infirmity, and they listened with joy, receiving him as if he were an angel of God, or even Jesus Himself!

Paul did not go to the people in pomp and circumstance, with a great retinue of servants. He did not wear a fabulously expensive garment.  Heralds did not run ahead of him to announce his coming. He simply preached, and people were touched by the truth of God’s Word inspite of the fact that the messenger had some sort of physical problem.

Why is Paul reminding the Galatians of those early days?

Because they need to go back there in their faith and doctrine.

My Non-Bucket List

Sorry, folks.  This was supposed to go to my “Just Writing” blog, not here.  Reblogging it over there

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Kick the Bucket.”

I never want to see a snake, or touch one.

I never want to raise a colony of cenitpedes.

I never want to live in or even see Death Valley.

I never want to go sky diving.

I never want to jump off any high place even with a parachute.

I never want to go bungee jumping.

And I never, ever want to eat liver again as long as I live.

I forgot to mention that I will never read Fifty Shades of Grey or any of its related colors.

Five Changes

To-Do? Done!

Quickly list five things you’d like to change in your life. Now, write a post about a day in your life once all five have been crossed off your to-do list.

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Well, this is depressing.  On a beautiful Saturday morning, WordPress wants me to list five changes I’d like to make in my life.  Sounds too much like New Year’s Resolutions, but oh well, here goes:

1.  Lose the weight

2.  Get in better shape

3.  Finish my book

4.  Finish my daughter-in-law’s quilt

5. Downsize all our stuff

Now, the story:

Linda woke up early, stretched, allowed herself a couple of minutes to feel the luxury of her comfortable bed, and the pristine condition of her bedroom. No clutter.  No dust.  Nothing left out to be put away the next day. Heavenly.

She sprang out of bed, slipped into her two-sizes-smaller sneakers (you do lose weight in your feet, too, you know) and pulled on her incredibly tiny jeans and tee. A quick stop in the study for her iPod Shuffle, and she was out the door on her daily five-mile walk. It was a glorious morning, cool and crisp, and it felt marvelous to stretch out the kinks and feel the road hitting her shoes.  At 68, she felt better than she had in years. Her blood sugar was completely under control, no more diabetes.  All the other Syndrome X symptoms were gone, too, oh frabjous day!

Today was the day she would send the final edits back to her publisher on the book she had labored over for so many years. The next one was going to be written much faster. Much. It was so exciting to know that within the year her first book would be out.  Maybe no one would buy it, but at that moment she didn’t even care. Just to have it done was such a victory!

Finishing her five-mile-circuit, Linda paused to enjoy her pretty yard.  Summer flowers were still strong and healthy, and in the crisp air of September, they glowed as if they were plugged into an electrical socket. Fall was undoubtedly the best season of the year.

Her other task at the post office today would be to mail the quilt she had finally finished off to Germany.  Janan had been patiently waiting for way too many years. The quilt had been sidelined when Linda went to work after finishing her master’s degree, and somehow it had just never found its way to the top of the priority list. That was over. The quilt was done.

And the house was decluttered, with no piles or stacks; no boxes of forgotten stuff sitting in attic or basement; no vast collections of “someday” fabrics, yarns, and patterns on her side of the basement. On Terry’s side, there were still boxes and bins and jars of nuts, bolts, washers, screws and obscure jumble, but she closed her eyes to it. Nothing she could do there.

All in all, it had been a successful and satisfying year.

The alarm went off. Rats.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/to-do-done/

Daily Prompt: Fight the Power

(Tell us about a time when you fought authority and took a stand against “the man.” Did you win?)

You’re talking to someone who was born on Independence Day here.
Which is not to say that I automatically resist all authority, just on general principles.  I don’t.  I respect authority when it is respectable.  I follow the rules.  I try not to speed. I pay my taxes.  I brush my teeth.  I don’t always make my bed.

God’s authority is never questionable.  If God, through His Word, says I must, then I must. Period.

Where I have a little trouble is when those in authority positions expect me to never, ever question them, whether respectfully or disrespectfully.  And the more they resist my questions, the more disrespectful I feel.

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I am pleased to say that most of the authority in my life has been reasonable and acceptable.  There were times when that was not true, but those times were learning experiences and didn’t do me any lasting harm.

My first job was running a cash register in a grocery store.  I didn’t particularly like the work, but I needed the job if I was going to attend college. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail here.  Not necessary or helpful.  In summary, I was accused of taking money from the register.  Fast forward, my boss went to jail for embezzlement not too long after he accused me.  I did stand up to his “authority,” and I guess I won–the accusation against me never went anywhere, and the assistant manager was pretty sharp.  He’d been watching the boss for some time, and the situation ended well for me.

I took no particular pleasure in my boss’s downfall, because he’d tried hard to take me with him.  I guess it was because I was so new, untried, naive.  He probably figured it would be easy to shift the blame to me.

The store failed.  I don’t know how long he was in prison.  I went on with my life and did just fine. What I’m really kind of proud about in that situation is that I didn’t cower or run and hide.  I vehemently denied the accusation and called on anyone at all to check my wallet, my locker, my dorm room, and my bank account. I had nothing to hide, and I wasn’t about to let a bully back me down.

Daily Prompt: Why Can’t We Be Friends?

(Do you find it easy to make new friends? Tell us how you’ve mastered the art of befriending a new person.)

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There are two ways to look at this one.  The whiney, demanding way is of no appeal whatsoever. There is an “all about me” attitude in that appeal that seems to imply that you must be friends with that person; if  you refuse, then you’re bad.  Nowhere is it written that everyone I meet will become my BFF.

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The top picture, however holds a lot of appeal for me.  Huge dog fully capable of having the kitten as a snack; adorable and, let’s assume brave instead of stupid, kitten offering friendship at the risk of his own safety.  Now we have something we can work with!

For me, making friends is a process, not an event.  It’s a two-way street, not “My Way Only.”  It starts with an almost instant hint of recognition with the other person, a certain something that draws me in and makes me want to go back.  There is a light in the eye, a kindred spirit that speaks to my spirit. Without any real effort, a bond begins to develop. Not too fast, though.  When I meet someone who declares undying friendship within five minutes of hello, I’m pretty sure  I won’t be seeing that person again.

There is a mutual interest. There are mutually enjoyed activities, beliefs, talents—something that we both share.  Sometimes it’s my rather wry and cynical sense of humor that connects quickly with the other person’s.  I have a friend going back over 35 years. We don’t see each other much any more because of distance, but when we do meet, there is that thing with the eyes that lets us both know nothing has been lost.

I’m not a person who needs a huge circle of friends.  I value the friends I have who understand that.  I work with people all week in whom I invest a great deal of emotional and spiritual energy.  When I’m finished with my work week, I want to spend time with a friend who has the ability to laugh with me over nonsense.  I want to unwind.  We can be serious, and will say that all my closest friends are fully able to do serious.  We all share a love of God, love of country, love of family and friends.  When we talk, the conversation ranges all over the map and it’s all good.

I think I’m rambling.  This is supposed to be the art of making friends with someone new.  Well, no, not rambling.  I just went back and read what I’ve already written, and I’m done.