Feed My Sheep Girl

This publication comes out each Friday in our area, $1.50 an issue, I don't buy it as one can read the booking information online anyway, but a grown daughter of mine brought it by the other week to tattle with illustrations, as one of the goofy pictures on the front is of a son of mine who cares nothing about the law, screw policies and procedures, if he wants to drink and carouse, that's what he's gonna do, racking up three underage charges within hardly a month's time.

Moving on...

"Cindy," a man paused, drew a breath and hesitated long enough for me to wish I'd changed my name. Why does all bad news begin with, "Cindy?"

"I'm afraid we're gonna have to put JoJo out for a few days," this nice AP from Gordo, Alabama told me. My Sunday School teacher is also from Gordo, what are the chances of that?

"Two days OSS and three days ISS." He'd been inappropriate, warned often, but just too impulsive, hard to tame this clown. (JoJo, not me)

ARGH, I'd rather eat ground glass.

OSS only punishes me. JoJo doesn't care. I sighed in exasperation. Big Mama Boot Camp is no fun with him, merely a total struggle, as he's not about to get off his ornery butt and help me do anything, I end up literally babysitting a 5'9" 150 pound goofball. We've already squabbled this morning over his height. He's claiming 5'10", I say bull, 5'9" is stretching it.

But I have news for this young'un. We ARE gonna go get me at least two more truckloads of manure because I have three mongo garden beds in dire need. Beds in which I want to plant the tomatoes this season, trying again to avoid the blight that's wiped me out two years in a row.

I have a man coming at 10:30 about my leaky roof in one place, a psychologist meeting, and a DJJ appointment. Do I know how to have fun, or what?

I woke up irritable at the very thought of today, looking for my Sally Sunshine spirit that I must've left outside yesterday in the gardens. Trudged downstairs to read my devotional which nailed me once again...as it always does when I wanna crank up a pity party.

The Lord’s next point is— “Pour yourself out. Don’t testify about how much you love Me and don’t talk about the wonderful revelation you have had, just ’Feed My sheep.’ ” Jesus has some extraordinarily peculiar sheep: some that are unkempt and dirty, some that are awkward or pushy, and some that have gone astray

Oh puh-leeze, may I just whine for a minute or two? Guess not.

Sarah remedied my Quicken problem from a PC into Mac, all my data, within just a few minutes, got my Ipod properly downloading all the podcasts with just one click....all stuff that frustrates me terribly. I wandered outside while she worked in her house on my computer, and I weeded out her garden area, she plants minimally, knowing I'll do the big crops since I'm not homeschooling like she's busy doing.

Oh wait...I kinda am for two days. Need to shake off my rising gripe mode.

Deep deep inhale, oh well, JoJo is entertaining, I'll get my roof fixed, irrespective of JoJo, and the three long waiting beds manured just in time.

Yes, I'll feed His sheep....

Ten days until Daylight Savings Time, one of my most favorite times of the year, the promise of Springtime, and a long growing season, my inner joy soars at the very idea of it.