Every blogger has access to  all kinds of interesting information about who is reading our blogs.  The stats page never gives personal names, of course, but it does tell us what countries and even what cities our readers are from. It shows demographics such as age groups, and how many people are repeat visitors  and how many are there for the first time.  I have no idea how they gather all this information, and I really don’t care. Usually, all I look at is the daily numbers.

This week, though,  something rather unusual happened. On Wednesday, I had about twice the normal numbers of visits; then on Thursday, there were 194 hits, all from Qatar, along with the rest of the people who visited  my blog that day. They hadn’t all visited the same post.  There are hundreds of posts now, after four years of almost-daily writing.

But–Qatar?  Really?


It’s a little peninsula connected to Saudi Arabia and surrounded by the Arabian Gulf.  I’ve read quite a bit about Qatar, and found that it is mostly comprised of Sunni Muslims, and Islam is the official religion, and Islam is the basis of jurisprudence in Qatar. When I asked my computer about the Christian population of Qatar, this is what I learned:

The Christian community in Qatar is a diverse mix of European, North and South American, Asian, Middle Eastern and African expatriates. They form around 13.8% of the total population (2010). … missionary groups operate openly in the country. There are no local Christians in Qatar; all Christians are foreign expatriates.

I don’t suppose I’ll ever know why I had all that traffic from Qatar,  but I do find it curious. Did a Christian  from a Christian community stumble across my blog and share it with his friends?  Or did a Muslim stumble across it and find it interesting enough to share it with others?

I mean, if you were in my place, wouldn’t YOU like to know?

A Personal Note

The next section of Isaiah 14 should really be studied with no interruption, so I’m going to put this blog on hold until sometime next week, Tuesday or Wednesday.

Terry and I will be flying out to California to help my son and his bride-to-be to celebrate their wedding on Sunday.  I think I’m going to leave my electronics at home, except for my phone. I’ll need that for taking some photos.

Writing my two blogs nearly every day has become such a habit. I’m surprised at how much of a struggle it is for me to step away for several days.  Maybe that’s a clear sign that it’s time to take a little break.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend as we enjoy this lovely spring weather, and I’ll see you next week.

Singing the Blahs

You know how sometimes you have a day in which you just don’t care?  Don’t want to do a thing but indulge yourself in books, tea, and maybe something sweet?  So you let everything else  go begging–cleaning, laundry, shopping–all the mundane things of your normal  life. They’ll be there when you come back from your selfie-day.  Your ME time, which is a term I find utterly ridiculous. Women need to realize that they’ll have plenty of “me time”  at a later point in life.  You have to work for it, earn it. The cool thing about taking a day off now, at this point in my life, is that it really doesn’t hurt anyone else. I don’t have children who need to be cared for, and Terry has never been a high-maintenance guy.  He’d rather be the caregiver than the care-receiver, which is a blessing for me when my back plays havoc with my life.


So I indulged myself yesterday, took my day off. Read, watched some funny retro TV. Took enough time to get supper under way, but took the easy way and stuck it in my slow cooker. Nice. If I had to account for every minute of my day, I’d be in trouble.

So am I all energized, full of plans, rushing forward into a day of productive activity?

Nope.  The biggest trouble with indulging myself is that I just want to do it all over again the next day.  That would be today.  And Terry is  gone for several hours today, so there’s no one being all industrious and making me feel guilty.

Actually, I do feel guilty.  I’ve got the lazy woman blues.  And there’s a Matlock mystery marathon on ALL DAY today.  Yikes.  It started seven minutes ago, and this first episode is one I haven’t seen before. So I’m watching it. After that, maybe I’ll redeem myself by finding something important to do.

I’ve got the lazy woman blu-hues!

Can’t think of nothin’ good to dooo-hooo!

Don’t want to move my lazy bo-hones!

I’m here at ho-ome all alo-hone,

Not even talkin’ on the  pho-hone!

Oh yeah, I’ve got the lazy, crazy doin’  nothin’ blues  🙂

Home Improvement

Over the last couple of years, we’ve remodeled the kitchen. All the big work is done, but Terry is still pecking away at smaller tasks.  One he did last week was to install a towel bar under the sink so I don’t have to put my hand towel and dishtowel over the handle on my oven. It looks nicer, and I’m no longer constantly having to pick the towels up off the floor!

Last year, in the early fall, we went to a wheat harvest farm show with  my daughter and her family.  Terry noticed a stall in the shopping area where a woman was creating beautiful art pieces using different varieties of wheat. We were both particularly attracted to one piece, and we decided it would be perfect on the wall in my new kitchen.

Terry created the frame, did the matting, covered it with acrylic “glass” and got it hung yesterday.  It looks wonderful.  Here it is:

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So beautiful and unusual.  I’m delighted with it!

Friday Free-fall

I have decided I’m not going to read any morepolitically -oriented stuff on Facebook for a while.  It just raises my blood pressure. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to refrain, because I’m passionate about my beliefs. Maybe I should just stay away from the yellow journalism kinds of posts that aren’t verified with anyone I trust. Those I do NOT trust would be Snopes and any of the MSM.  You know you’re getting highly left-slanted news. Of course, there are those on the right who are just as guilty of posting highly emotional, questionable “news” that is designed to tempt you to share it with all your friends, thereby circulating stuff that has very little verification behind it.

Come on, folks. I think we all agree that 2016 was an awful election year, with endless accusations and counter-accusations.  I’m glad that’s over, but now I wish both sides would just shut up and go about the business of making the best of things.  I’m sick of the whining of the left.  I’m embarrassed by the unkindness of some on the right.  Let the rancor and animosity die. It’s totally not productive.

Yes, for sure I will be glad when Barry’s face doesn’t dominate everything completely.  Yes, I’m sick of his arrogance and dishonesty.  After all, they’re off on another multi-million dollar vacation during a time of incredible danger in the world.  As usual, all he’s saying while people are dying is “FORE!”

I saw something the other day about Michelle running for President in 2020.  God help us. A more entitled, angry, and arrogant person couldn’t be found?  It has to be Michelle? Poor woman would have to start waking up in a house built by slaves all over again.  Tsk.

Okay, does anyone really think I can keep my resolve to stay away from politics?  Really?

No?  Me neither.



As most of you know, I’ve been pretty much housebound for the last 2 1/2 months because of my ancient and crumbling back.  Last Sunday morning was the first time I ventured out to church  in all that time.  Last night a sweet friend who lives nearby was so kind as to drive me to the annual women’s Christmas fellowship. This is always a delightful gathering, and last night was no exception.


My daughter was the hostess. She always decorates her home beautifully at Christmas, so it was the perfect setting. There were maybe 35 or so women there.  We sang, enjoyed a gift exchange of Christmas mugs. We were blessed to hear a missionary speak to us about how to talk to others about the Lord. We had yummy cookies and cocoa, coffee, or tea.

And we had lots of fellowship. I was enjoying talking with a couple of other women, but at the same time, I was observing little groups scattered throughout the family room, kitchen, and front living room/dining room area, all visiting, laughing, and enjoying each other. Sometimes the conversations were serious, too.

One thing I’m sure of:  No one was engaged in gossip or complaining. It was a totally upbeat gathering, women seeking out the friendship and companionship of other women.

Many welcomed me from my long exile, and expressed that they were praying for me and would continue to do so through my January surgery.

God’s Word tells us that where two or three are gathered together in His name, He is there. His presence was definitely there last night.

Sunday Morning Coffee: Snow

Snow clouds, like gargantuan bags of  frozen feathers,  opened up and dumped all over the Midwest Friday and Saturday.  I have friends out there.  They commented on the beauty.  Strong people, those who live in the farm belt.


They’re self-sufficient.  Weather is a major part of life out on the plains, with no hills or mountains  or vast woodland tracts to stand in the way of snow, rain, tornados or floods.

I’ve lived out there, and I’ve seen how quickly  they respond when a storm of this size hits. The plows are out, clearing the stuff off the roadways. Sand trucks follow. The streets and roads are wider  than most of  the roads and streets here on the east coast, which were developed as horses, buggies,  and wagons followed the same routes for years, around hills and mountains and alongside meandering creeks and rivers. Often, their names reflect their origins:  Cowpath Road, Blue School Road, Mill Road, Creamery Road, Old Church Road, Forty Foot Road. These roads are all narrow, barely allowing for two-way  traffic.  I have immense respect for the school bus drivers who navigate them during the icy weather.  Clearing them after a snowfall is a different challenge than what they face  in the Midwest.

Time after time, out there, I watched as plows cleared opposite sides of the street at the same time, pushing the the snow into the middle of the street or doing that job with blowers attached to the plows. Then, dump trucks and bucket loaders took over, with the loaders dumping gigantic scoops of the plowed snow into the trucks, who drove it out of town and dumped it where it wouldn’t impede traffic.  It was like watching a well-choreographed dance. In no time, the main streets were clear.


Out here, especially in the cities, the streets are often so narrow that it takes several days to get the mess cleaned up. Digging out a spot for one’s car becomes an Olympic event, because once you clear it, you have to put someone out there to save it until you get the car and park it there 🙂


I remember well, during my childhood in Minneapolis, that if it didn’t snow by Thanksgiving, there was definitely a problem somewhere. We anticipated that snow. When it finally came, we were out there in two or three pairs of pants, coats, boots, mittens, mufflers, hats. We slid, dug out caves, had snowball forts and fights, staying out until we were soaked and frozen. This was before the era of the snowmobile suits that kept you warm and dry for a lot longer!

Back inside we’d go, putting our wet gear over the radiators until it was dry.  If it wasn’t too dark, we’d put it all on again and go back out for more. Fun times. The snow out there was usually wet enough for packing, but not the kind of wet we get out here, where it doesn’t get as cold.

The book of Job talks about snow:“Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail,”  Job 38:22. There are others; the one most of us know best is probably Psalm 51:7.

PS.  From the color of the sky and the velocity of the wind out there, I suspect there’s snow coming our way.  Those gargantuan clouds must still have something leftover 🙂