Really? Do Tell. . .

I saw a social media post recently cursing at God because one of the writer’s musical icons has COPD. It’s God’s fault, apparently, that this musician’s lifestyle, which includes some pf the leading risk factors for COPD apparently contributed to his health problems, but apparently God made him engage in risky health practices. *shrugs* ‘S’all right. God has big shoulders. Curse Him if you will (for all the good it will do anyone, which is zero). *sigh*

The main causes/risk factors of COPD are:
Smoking
Air pollution
Occupational exposure- Intense and prolonged exposure to workplace dusts, chemicals and fumes
Genetics
Infectious diseases such as AIDS and tuberculosis increase risk of COPD

Heck, even the musician himself “blames” an occupational hazard, viz.,

[Ian] Anderson noted that he has not had an exacerbation for a while, an improvement he puts down to living in the pollution-free English countryside – and blamed on stage smoke machines for his ill health.

“Today they’re (smoke machines) referred to as ‘hazers,’ as if they’re somehow innocent and not damaging to your lungs,” he fumed. “I really do believe that’s a very significant part of the problem that I have.”

Another View of Faith

I have posted before that our part of faith =~= trusting obedience. Today, a streaming video study of Psalm 32 cut out shortly after verse 9 had been read, and it seemed propitious, as it spurred me to recall moments with horses that allow me to expand on that verse:

Psalm 32:9 “Be ye not as the horse, or as the mule, which have no understanding: whose mouth must be held in with bit and bridle, lest they come near unto thee.”

Several things popped out at me when I read this this AM. . .

Yes, ordinarily horses need to be controlled via external means such as a bit and bridle, for guidance’s sake for both them and any person around them, but. . .

There is much more to control of an equine than a bit in their mouths and a hand on the reins controlling them through that bit. There can be relationship, as well, and teaching/training, and. . . trust.

The relationship between the horses and their trainer in the video above are a good metaphor, IMO, for the relationship God desires with his people: a relationship of trust and obedience. Know this full well: those horses would not be so very compliant had their trainer not well and truly earned their trust through consistent and judicious care.

While I have never experienced that level of trusting obedience from a horse, I have had glimpses of it, brief moments where the trust a horse placed in me were humbling, engendering an even greater desire to be trustworthy. If we could but grasp a bit of that for our relationship with God, we would find Him completely, over and abundantly, worthy of our trust.

Unpreparedness

Some site (no, no link, because I don’t think the info is all that reliable, just. . . moderately interesting as a viewpoint to take off from) suggested that the following list was what grocery stores ran out of quickest at inception of the recent pan(dem)ic. *shrugs*

Pasta and tomato sauce
Yeast
Flour
Sugar
Milk
Eggs
Butter
Rice
Beans
Peanut butter

So, folks weren’t already stocked up on staples. Had NO idea how to bake w/o commercial yeast? *yawn* I have bought exactly one of those items in the last six weeks. Had all I needed of the rest (didn’t need any milk, but I’ll admit to buying a couple of gallons of cream. . . ) Grocery stores ran out/low on only one item on my own replenishment list, and I had alternatives for that. But then

1. We have a pretty well-stocked pantry and
2. Our diet is not normal. *heh*

To Be Determined. . .

Experimental dinner again tonight built around. . . a sweet red pepper. Casserole Sine Nomine: Browned ground beef (salt, pepper, roasted garlic–powdered–, minced onion); chopped sweet red pepper; broccoli, cauliflower, a can of no-name cream of mushroom soup, sharp cheddar (shredded), mixed; topped with more shredded cheddar and chunks of a smoked bacon cheddar cheese ball I had layin’ around. 350°F for 30 minutes. We’ll see how it turns out: save the “recipe” or toss, that is the question. Answer to be determined.


Determined: Good. Due a wee bit of tweaking (more garlic, for one), but a keeper.

Outright violation of inherent, inalienable rights? Yes.

But do note: this is nothing new, really. *sigh* Doncha know, constitutional “protections” of rights are merely suggestions? And with the Great Toilet Paper Panic of 2020, now that the Constitution is now seen as simply a convenient substitute for TP by governments throughout the land, such quaint, outmoded ideas as “inherent rights” are simply to be dispensed with for convenience’s sake. This is nothing new, though. After all, when Newt Gingrich–that *cough* great defender of the Constitution *cough*–was reportedly asked a couple of decades ago whence the constitutional authority for the so-called “war on drugs” since the only constitutionally-authorized ban on the manufacture, import, distribution, sale and use of _A_ drug (alcohol–Volstead Act) had been mooted by the repeal of the 18th Amendment, Gingrich is reported to have replied simply, “It’s different now.”

Yep. The difference is that the Constitution is viewed as either a document to deliberately twist into saying what it does not (lies, damned lies, and political lies) or as TP with which to wipe one’s lips clean of fecal matter.

Affliction Becomes Benefit

Some folks are more prone than others to vertical ridges in fingernails as they age. Oh, anyone can experience them because of nutritional deficits or some physical malady, but mine are apparently age and genetics related. I can recall as a young boy times spent with my maternal grandfather’s mother. Spending time with Great Grandmother was an enriching experience for me in many ways, but one lil thing has remained fascinating to me over the years: her hands. She was always doing interesting things with her hands: needlework, paging down pages in her Bible as she read (sometimes aloud for me, though I was close and reading along), sharpening her always-at-hand pen knife, and even trimming her nails with that very sharp pen knife.

And then there were her nails. Yep. Ridged just like mine are now, like Dad-Dad’s (maternal grandfather) were, like my older sister’s are. I have dealt with mine by checking my nutrition (no problems there), by making them less brittle with applications of different kinds, and. . . by trimming them as short as possible in order to minimize the real problem with ridged nails: frequent splitting and chipping.

And how has this become a benefit in recent days? Ease of keeping things really clean under my fingernails (because there’s hardly any “under my fingernails” to clean, for one thing).

So, a lil piece of heritage coming around to being a benefit.

Sweet!

That’s (Self-Isolated) Entertainment

One cat (Ye Olde Pharte) just sitting and watching youngest cat play–wildly–with imperceptible bits of fluff (or whatever), while “middle cat” sits staring at me over my laptop’s display.

*munches popcorn-sips beer* Now, THAT’S entertainment. . . *heh*

Mystery Project

Inspiration struck when I was cutting off the first plank of a fairly large diameter, 10′-long sycamore log today. I visualized a perfect application for the 2”-wide planks coming off the log, though I modded that thought immediately and reserved the last couple of feet to make 4”×4” pieces for part of the “inspiration.” I’ll update on this mystery project as it develops.

And yeh, in the interest of simplicity, I’ll be using exact measurements, not “nominal” lumber sizes.


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