Beauty Is Your Duty

 

During WWII, both Britain and America campaigned to women with this slogan.

Beauty Is Your Duty

Posters, newsreels, newspapers proclaimed this mantra in Allied Countries. Hitler hated red lipstick, so what did the Allies do? They launched campaigns to encourage us gals to wear it!

Red lipstick became the symbol of patriotic freedom. When red lipstick wasn’t available, women stained their lips with beet juice!

The WWII propaganda encouraged ladies to keep up a glamourous appearance. Maintaining a positive morale was important to everyone during the war front. When the public spotted a woman looking her best, the image reinforced the idea that good times would return.

Women were told they were doing their part to win the war by looking their best.

My mom and aunts wore red lipstick and looked glamorous during those days. They were slim and had gorgeous figures. Of course, back in the WWII era, food was rationed, and very little overeating was done. That helped their waistlines!

Makeup has changed over the years. As a child, I watched my fashionable aunt apply cosmetics. She sat at her dressing table and applied base, rouge (as she called it), mascara and lipstick.

The foundation for the face was from a swivel stick Max Factor. She would roll it out, and then smooth it over her face and neck.

 

Cream rouge came next. This cherry red stuff came in a petite jar and required a tiny amount to make rosy cheeks.

Once the face was done, eyes were next.

The black mascara was packaged in a petite, rectangular container, and it was accompanied with a tiny brush. She placed the brush into water, and then applied the brush to the container. When the brush had significant black stuff on it, she applied to lashes. Outlining her brows was done with a pencil.

The grand finale was the red lipstick.

After donning stillettos, she was ready to leave for work. She wasn’t fond of her 5’2” stature, and the high heels added not only to her height, but to her allure.

One day, I had ridden with her to Dallas. While we waited for  her son to come to the car, a man she knew approached. She exclaimed, “I don’t have on enough lipstick.” She grabbed her purse and remedied the situation.

My mom and her sisters never went anywhere without their nails polished. My dad served in WWII, and my mom went to see him before he was deployed. He told me she arrived with her long nails painted like American flags.

Patriotism was important back in those days. I hope it still is.

But I digress.  

I knew a lady who went to bed wearing lipstick, and she would arise before her husband awoke. She wanted to make sure her face was outfitted before she greeted him. She resides in heaven now, but she was meticulous about her appearance when she lived down here.

Another married friend wears makeup every day, and she says, “I do it for me. I feel better when I look good.”

I know a woman whose husband insists every day that she “fix her face.”

My hubby has never stipulated such a thing. I think he knows better. However, he came home one day and said, “if you’ll put on your makeup, I’ll take you to dinner.” I replied, “I’m wearing makeup.” Uh oh! I needed to refresh it, so I did. Going out to eat is a winner for me.

I have a friend who never wears face color of any kind, but she does apply sunscreen, and that is a wise thing to do.

How about you?

Do you wear makeup every day?

I don’t, but I will not leave the house without it. My Mary Kay representative once held a skin care class and asked me if I would participate. She knows me well. She said, “you will need to remove your makeup.” I told her I’d rather take off my clothes.  Well, not really, but I don’t like to appear in public unadorned.

As a young girl, I had oodles of freckles, and I was teased about them. They stood at attention on my pale skin. I once wrote a letter to a cosmetician and asked how to rid myself of them. She responded, “Apply lemon juice.” I tried this, but it didn’t work. The lemon was sticky and messy. I was relieved when my mother finally allowed me to cover those pesky spots up with foundation.

My white hair is a DNA thing. I’ve had it since my teens. My pale skin and white hair make me look rather ghostly. I’m happy cosmetics exist to enhance what I don’t have.

Skin is important. It is the largest organ on the body. When old skin cells die, new ones come along. It behooves us to take care of them. If you don’t wear color, you should at least moisturize with a good sunscreen.

Cleanse, exfoliate, moisturize, protect, and color. These are excellent daily steps to make a lady feel and look her best.

That WWII slogan, “Beauty is your duty,” is a good one.

Gay's Author Page

Citations:

https://glamourdaze.com/history-of-makeup/1940s

https://www.whowhatwear.com/history-of-red-lipstick

 

Happy Cookies and High Tea

 My maternal grandmother used to make tea cakes. They looked a lot like the ones in the picture, but she didn't draw a happy face on them.

The tea cakes were a cross between a cake and a cookie. I loved them. She kept them in a tin on top of the refrigerator. 

I suppose our English ancenstors ate these little cakes at tea time in the afternoon. That was such a nice respite. When our foremothers came to America, they brought the recipe with them.

This day and time, a formal tea time doesn't exist. I've looked into fancy restaurants who offer a High Tea in Houston. Most are expensive, but they sure look elegant. Here's a link to some of the best in Houston. High Tea in Houston

I gave a tea party last May and invited a few friends. I ask everyone to wear a hat, and I gave prizes to ladies who did. The prize was an English tea cup.  Sort of like the one picture below.

I had a lot of fun. Here's a picture of me with one of my guests. She really dressed for the party. My outfit was more informal, but I wore my hat!

Do you have a snack time? If so, what do you like?

Here's the recipe for my grandmother's tea cakes. Let me know if you make them!

Ingredients:

1/2 cup butter

1.5 cups sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

4 tsp baking powder

1/2 cup flour

Pinch of salt

1/2 baking soda

Mix all ingredients together. Chill mixture for at least 2 hours. Roll dough into 1/8 inch thickness. Sprinkle with sugar. Cut into small cakes. Bake at 375 degrees for 7 to 8 minutes.

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Coconut Cake. Yum! One of my Favorites

 

Let's Have a Party!

Do you have a favorite cake?

I have several, but Mrs. Evans’ Coconut Cake remains at the top of the list.

Mrs. Evans resides in heaven now, but while she lived on earth, she was known for delights she produced in her kitchen. She was a member of our church and at potlucks, the people always looked forward to her coconut cake.

She gave the recipe to her daughter-in-law, and the young lady made the cake, but it didn’t turn out quite the same. The younger Mrs. Evans said to the senior Mrs. Evans, “What went wrong?”  Mrs. Evans shrugged and replied, “Some can and some can’t.” 

I’m one of those who can’t. Even though I meticulously follow directions, something always the results aren’t quite right.

Our daughter, Lanissa, is a wonderful cook. I asked her to make Mrs. Evans’ cake for my birthday, and she did. Wow! It was delicious. It tasted like the one I remember.

Mrs. Evans always made the cake into a three-layer beauty, but Lanissa traveled to bring the cake to me, so she made it in a sheet pan. It was easier to bring that way.

Here’s the recipe. Try it.

Coconut Butter Cake

 

CAKE

2 c. sugar

1 c butter, room temperature

4 eggs

2 c flour

1 tsp soda

½ tsp salt

1 c buttermilk

1 tbsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Cream sugar and butter. Separate eggs whites from yolks. Beat yolks and add to sugar mixture. Mix flour, soda and salt. Add alternately, butter, mild and vanilla which have been mixed. Beat egg whites until stiff, fold into cake mixture. Evenly divide into two or three 9 inch pans. Bake 35-40 minutes.

ICING

¼ c butter

1 (8oz) pkg cream cheese

1 tbsp vanilla

1 lb box of powdered sugar

1 tbsp cream

Cream butter and cream cheese. Add powdered sugar, mix well. Spread on top and sides. Put coconut of top and sides.

Gay's Author Page

Money Spent On Makeup

 

How much do women spend on makeup? It's a lot!

And judging from my makeup drawer, I’m no exception. I just bought a new drawer organizer and realized I have too many products for one location!

One survey done several years ago estimated the average USA woman will spend about $300,000 in her lifetime on facial stuff. This amount doesn’t include hair or nail products.

Where a lady lives makes a difference. New York, California, and New Mexico came in as the top three states where ladies spend the most amount of money. Vermont, Maine, and New Hampshire were three states where women spent the least amount on faces.

This data is a surprise to me. Most of the females I see here in Texas wear makeup, but Texas wasn’t listed.

The survey doesn’t say how many years make up a lifetime, but it says $300,000 over several years? Whoa! That's a lot of money.

How many eons do we ladies buy makeup for our faces? How old were you when you started to apply the stuff?

I was about twelve when I began. I tried earlier, but my mom wouldn’t allow it.

A friend of mine recently turned 91, and she’s still applying stuff to her face and neck. She looks great! She looks twenty years younger. All those years of taking care of her skin paid off. 

The survey said we put about 16 commodities to our face each day. So, I counted mine, the ones I use morning and night and found 14. I’m missing two. My amount doesn’t include anything I reapply during the day.

As I rearranged my makeup drawer, I wondered what items I could do without.  Hmmm….? I threw away one thing. It was a lipstick and it was a duplicate.

If you could only keep two products, what would you choose? I’d choose my night cream and my eyebrow pencil.

I’ve used the Extra Emollient Night Cream from Mary Kay Cosmetics since it first came on the market. In my opinion, it’s the best and least expensive moisturizer ever created. If I fail to use it, my face feels like a dried-up prune.

The most expensive item in my daily routine is the makeup base. Maybe bases is a better word. I’ve wasted money on that stuff. Buying the wrong shade is a hazard. At this time, I’m mixing several colors.

Eyelashes are in vogue these days. You can apply them yourself, or spend a small fortune and allow it done for you. I haven’t worn those spidery things in years, but I kept a pair in my drawer…just in case.

I kept a trashcan handy so I could throw away makeup I didn’t use. That one tube of lipstick looks lonely in there.

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Trusting in the Unknown

 

From a Cruise on the Columbia River

I love this picture. 

I have no idea what is beyond the sunset and watery horizon, but there's something there.  Maybe it's more beauty, or perhaps it is an ugly storm.

Perspective matters.

What I find good, another person might find bad.

Our daughter has end stages of dementia. This is bad.

We oversee her needs and guard her wellbeing. This is good.

In earlier times, she thanked us for our care. Now she doesn't respond and can't say much, but she would thank us if she could. She'd go overboard with gratitude if she knew what we were doing for her.

We are in chaos at this moment. New developments have arisen. She lives in a community, and the director tells us they will increase the monthly charge in August by 63%.  We expected 5%, that's what the contract specifies, but 63%? We can't afford that.

We are in the process of relocation.

Does she know this?

No, of course not.

Is she worried? No. She doesn't know anything about it, but way back in the day, she trusted us to provide for her.

And so we are.

We are spending hours and sleepless nights preparing this move as we work on her behalf. We love her, and she loves us.

As I thought about this situation, it dawned upon me that God does the same for us.

He labors for us because we place our confidence in Him.  At times, we see Him working, and at other instances, we merely believe He is on the job. Sight unseen. 

When our daughter could cogitate, we teased each other. I'd tell her, "I loved you first." She'd respond, "I love you the most."

We love Him because He frist loved us. And He loves us the most.

So today, the similarities dawned on me. God does for us what we do for our children.

God provides even when we don't know what lies ahead. We are always on His mind, and He is acting, sight unseen, on our behalf.

Gay"s Author Page on Amazon

Favorite Cook Book

 

 

I cook a lot, but I'm not good at it. I don't like the chore. Did I tell you I hate chopping veggies? No? Well, I do. 

I once cut a deep gash in my finger and the doctor had to sew it up. I did that on a can opener, but I also cut myself when I chop stuff.

Multiple cookbooks adorn a large cabinet in my kitchen. I love to read the recipes. I'll examine one and think, "that sounds good, but I don't have all the ingredients."

Why do all these journals call for odd things?

Here are a few examples:

Fresh minced oregano.

Ground turmeric.

Grated fresh ginger.

Fresh dill.

Fresh thyme.

One bunch of arugula.

Frozen artichoke hearts.

My organic farmer daughter has all the above mentioned herbs growing fresh. I do not. Every now and then, I will purchase a can of artichoke hearts. I don't like arugula, so it can't be found here in my refrigerator. On to the next recipe.

 

My go-to cookbook is this green one. It was published by the Houston Junior Forum, first printing in 1980, second one in 1981.  We once had a secretary who belonged to the Houston Junior Forum, and she gave me this handy little ditty.

I use it often and write a date on the recipe when I try it. I also give the dish a review. (I am an author, you know, and writers like reviews, although the cooks will never see them in this book. If you read my books, please leave a reiew.)

Some of the dishes are repeaters, others, not so much. The best banana nut bread of all time is in this volume, and I've made it too many times to count.

I'll share a recipe I amended from this versatile little tome. If I change a recipe, it's my own, right? After trying it various ways, including the way it was written, I think my amended way is better.

Gay's Easy Bake Chicken

Ingredients

Thick bacon slices. Don't use thin sliced.

Sliced potato rounds from two potatoes (about ¼ inch thick)

2 cans cream of chicken soup

2 large cans of condensed milk

6 to 8 Chicken tenders

Salt and pepper.

In a medium Pyrex baking dish, place the bacon strips to cover the bottom. Place potato rounds on top of the bacon. (I use two medium sized russets) Mix soup and milk together. Pour over bacon and potatoes. Save a portion. Place chicken trips on top and add remaining mixture. Cover tight and bake at 325 degrees. It takes about 3 hours. I pull the pan from the oven, hold it up, and check the bottom to make sure the bacon is done.

Most of the recipes in my green book have normal stuff.  Yay! Did you see the date? Early 80's. Food was more normal back then. Our organic farmer, Lanissa, will inherit this green cookbook. She loves kitchen duties and uses all fresh ingredients from her garden. She won't need the one pictured below.

 

Authors write books for dummies. You'll find dozens of them at booksellers. I bought a diabetes cookbook for dummies years ago. I also bought one for computers. I haven't read or used either one.

I thought the cookbook for dummies would be easy and healthy. It probably is healthy, but it isn't easy. Every recipe calls for fresh herbs and a dedicated amount of time. 

Herbs are expensive, and if you buy a bunch and use a teaspoon, you've lost money. I suppose you can substitute dried herbs, but you must keep a lot of bottles on hand.

I decided to sub one herb in a recipe. I checked the date on my dried thyme—1995. Well, so much for that.

I need to clean out that spice rack.

What are you planning for dinner tonight? Uber Eats? Door Dash? That sounds like a plan.

Gay's Author Page

WWII Letters

They were lost but now they are found.

I’m talking about my Dad's letters. The ones he wrote to my mother during WWII.  My mom gave them to me years ago, and I've moved them around with me.

About ten years ago, we downsized our library, and I was positive my husband accidentally gave them away. He offered many cartons of books to two young Baylor University preacher boys, and I couldn't find my box after that. I thought the keepsakes were gone forever. I hoped the young preachers would find the letters and donate them to a WWII museum.

Hubby was in the attic a few days ago and brought down several containers. Was I ever surprised and happy! The letters and memorabilia are found!

The letters are posted from Los Angeles, Camp Berkly, Texas, Fort Sill Oklahoma, and Fort Dix New Jersey. I plan to organize them by dates. A few have no postmarks, only a return address.  The word "free" appears where the stamp should be. 

In one of the posts, my dad tells my mom that he loves me, and then he adds, "even if you don't think I do."  I guess my mom had written her concern—my dad hadn’t met me, and I suppose she thought he therefore couldn’t love me. My dad didn't see me until I was two years old, but he knew I belonged to him, and he loved me.

In another letter, he asked if I was still blonde. I was blonde when he finally saw me, but My hair grew darker with age. Early on, it turned white like my dad's. 

In another letter, he wrote, "you won't know me. I'm white headed and weigh 145 pounds."  He mentioned several times that he and the troops were hungry. He also wrote that they hadn't been paid.

He, along with coutless others, stormed the Normandy beaches. D-Day was June 6. His battallian fought their way in on June 7, known as D-Day Plus One.

My dad had to be transported from France to England and was in the hospital in country for weeks. In one letter, he wrote, "I bought a dozen eggs from a lady, boiled them here in the ward, and ate them all." Perhaps he had been paid by then. On the other hand, it appears from the communication that guys serving often wrote home for money, but he said he never would do that.

The carton contains letters written over a four-year period, it also has a pair of my mom's shoes, an old iron, and a box with two packages of unopened Chesterfield cigarettes. 

There is also a Thanksgiving menu from a hospital in McKinny, TX. Like most WWII guys, Dad never spoke much about his war experiences, and I didn't know about this hospital stay. Based on the date of the menu, he had returned to the USA, and was recovering at a hospital in Texas.

Look closely at the bottom of the menu. The patients were treated to cigarettes after their Thanksgiving meal.

Reading these treasures is like studying a family history book. 

Gay N. Lewis on Amazon

Memorial Day 2023

Mr. Tom Moore

I think of Mr. Moore on Memorial Day. He didn't die in WWII, but he was a Prisoner of War in a German camp. When he returned home, he married and had a family, but he couldn't sleep with his wife. His nightmares were too vivid. He thrased about in his sleep and without knowing it, he could have hurt her.

He didn't talk much about his experiences, but he went to the the VA in Houston each Wednesday to meet with fellow veterans who had suffered similar horrific circumstances.

He attended my Bible study.  As we discussed the Israelite wilderness wanderings, I said "the Hebrews grew tired of manna." He commented, "When you get hungry enough, you'll eat anything."  As a POW, he found this to be true.

My mom and dad

(You now know where I inherited my white hair)

My dad served in WWII. He was a sergeant who, along with others, stormed the Normandy beaches. He fought in France and had to be transported to a hospital in England before returning home.

Like Mr. Moore, he never spoke of his war incidents. He didn't sleep well and would be up all hours.  He never met with other veterans, but I think such gatherings were beneficial to Mr. Moore. 

These two men came home to live with their war memories, but others from numerous deployments haven't. Since WWII, America has had various conflicts. Men and women buried at national cemeteries number too many.

Arlington National Cemetery

On this Memorial Day weekend, please pause to remember the sacrifices. 

Joey Jones, retired Marine

Joey Jones, a retired Marine, served in two deployments. Joey wears prosthetic legs after he stepped on an explosive device in Afghanistan. I heard him say something like this. “When people thank me for my service, I respond with, ‘thank you for being in a country worth serving.’”

Numerous men and women who serve or served in our armed forces feel that way.  We are a blessed nation.

Gay and her flag

All who stayed at home and supported the men and women at the front lines have sacrificed also.

On this day, let us remember our military. The  ones who paid the ultimate sacrifice, and the ones who came home, but continue to suffer.

Gay's Author Page

 

Nearly Normal

 

Nearly Normal

What is that anyway?

 The Circumstances ordinary for me might be odd to you. On the other hand, situations usual for you might be eccentric to me. Take snowflakes as an example. Each one is similar but unique. So, each flake is normal to its species.

My three daughters gave me a key chain years ago. It read, “Nearly Normal.”  Eons later, one of those daughters gave me the mug you see pictured. She added the "We love you anyway!" She’s also given me an expensive charm bracelet with a disc engraved with those same words.

Like a flakey little piece of snow, I suppose I am uncommon in a few ways. Not many, mind you, just a few.

I gave myself a surprise party. That’s when I received the first gift, the key chain,

Yep! You read that right. I gave a surprise birthday party for myself. Well, who else does such a thing? Someone who is nearly, almost, completely normal—that’s who.

I bought my presents and had them professionally wrapped. I designed my birthday cake. It resembled a wedding tier, and I had it iced with cream cheese frosting tinted a salmon color. The cake was beautiful. I invited friends to meet me in San Antonio for my surprise party.

After I arrived at the hotel on the River Walk, I decorated my room with streamers, signs, balloons, cake, goodies, and displayed the gifts I had bought. When the room was ready, I invited the group inside. When they opened the door, I yelled, “Surprise!”  Then I sang Happy Birthday to myself.

Among the gifts friends and family brought was the key chain. “Nearly Normal.” I still have it today.

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A New Recipe?

 I dreamed I was eating a screetch.  What is that, you ask?

It was a mashed sweet potato mixed with crushed pineapple. This mixture was encased in a flaky pastry and was tasty.

In my dream, I ask the cook what it was, and she replied, "A screetch."

I've never had that combination before, and now that I am awake, I'm not sure about it, either. I liked it in my dream.

Why did the cook title the dish screetch? 

She didn't say.

I have a theory as to why I dreamed a strange name. I'm trying to think of a pseudonym for me. I'm writing a new book, and I will use a different name other than my own.

I think I told you how Amazon gets my books mixed up with gay literature.  When someone typed in my name, they got the gay genre, and nothing from me. I was lost.

After all the phone calls from  my publishers and me, they still do somewhat. Currently, when you type in Gay N. Lewis in the Amazon search bar, you will see some of my books, but not all of them. Mixed in with my books is the gay genre.

I want people to find me and all my books! I'm on other booksellers, and they haven't mixed me up. But Amazon is the largest bookseller.

What should I call myself?

I know what name I won't use. "Screetch."

I'm not much of a cook, but I might try mixing sweet potato and pineapple. What kind of pastry to use?  

It kinda sounds good.

If any of my readers try this mixture, let me know.

Gay N. Lewis on Amazon

The Most Hated Man in the World

 

The most hated man in the world is not Donald Trump, although he comes in as a close second.

The most detested man of all history is Jesus Christ.

Donald Trump maintains he had "perfect" phone calls, and other flawless deeds. In my opinion, I saw nothing wrong with the phone calls he made. However, based on reports, it seems he lived far from innocent in his former lifestyle.

We all are sinners, including Donald Trump, regardless if he made a few impeccable phone calls. There is only one who lived a faultless life on earth.

Jesus was without question perfect.

But He was loathed. Reviled. Detested.

He was so hated, he was killed on a cross. The Romans invented crucifixion—the most horrible form of death a person can face.

Why did the Son of God allow this kind of treatment and physical death to His human body? Why did His father, God, permit it?

LOVE

They loved us.

Back when the Holy Trinity got together to form the universe, they decided mankind should have freewill. Yet, that presented a problem. Men and women would fall short of God’s intention. Humanity would choose sin over righteousness. So…God said to His Son. “Would you go to earth, be born as a baby, grow up as a God/man, take on the sins of the world and die on a cross?”

Jesus answered, “yes.”

God was pleased with the answer. The Godhead deemed it was the only way mankind could be forgiven of sin.

Jesus took every sin man had ever committed and crucified them on the cross.

Of course, mankind must acknowledge this Deed of Majesty. We must ask forgiveness for our sins and invite Jesus into our hearts and lives. When we do, we are exonerated from sins consequences. As a result of our commitment to Jesus, we are assured of a heavenly home.

We call today “Good Friday.” Long ago, on a Friday in Jerusalem, Jesus kept His word to His father and died on the cross.

God, His father, kept His word to His Son. On the third day, God resurrected Jesus from the dead. He stayed on earth awhile and visited with many in His new, glorified body, but eventually, He rejoined His Father. He is back in heaven and lives today. He will return one day.

Jesus is still hated today by many.

Because of Trump’s personality and accomplishments, many people hate him. Former President Trump is an accomplished man and wants to make “America Great Again.”

I hope Trump, or someone can help us here in America, but no one can never attain the statis and achievements of Jesus Christ. His life, death, and resurrection is a gift to everyone in the whole world.

^“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."  John 3:16 KJV

Gay N. Lewis on Amazon

 

My Name!

I looked for my books on Amazon. In the search bar, I typed my name, Gay N. Lewis, and WOW!  All I got were LBGTQ selections!

I have 17 books listed with Amazon, and they are also listed with other online booksellers. I usually check the Amazon site first each morning.

Most of the time, my books appear along with gay genre scattered throughout my list.

Not today. Mine were totally missing.

I phoned Amazon. It was a frustrating experience. I went around the mulberry bush with several who answered the phone. They didn't know how to resolve the problem, and they finally suggested I email them.

I emailed them, and I also emailed my publishers.  I think the publishers were able to get through.  As of now, my books are back under my name. Gay N. Lewis.

I wish I had written under a pseudonym. My next book will have my new fake name. I have no idea what I'll call myself, but it won't be Gay.

Gay on YouTube

Gay N. Lewis on Amazon

 

Biscuits, Fried Fish, and Red Hats

 

I decided to chat via blog today instead of YouTube.  I'm still learning technology. Why do I find it so hard?

A bit of winter lingers in some parts of the country, but down here in Texas, we are at 84 degrees today.  It’s also windy. I see where some in the southeast are getting hit hard with spring storms. Winter wants to hang on for a bit. I dread the unbearable heat, and it is coming.

We went to lunch earlier and ordered fried catfish. I ate enough for two meals, so I doubt I’ll eat much for dinner.  I’m not fond of cooking, so devouring enough to satisfy for the day’s duration a good thing.

I usually cook breakfast. It’s the only meal I don’t mind l preparing. There’s not much chopping involved. Not much planning either.  This morning I made biscuits, gray with sausage and fried eggs.

That reminds me. We watched a TV special the other day, and young people in England were trying biscuits and gravy for the first time, and they were reluctant to taste them. After a bite, they said, “they look like scones and the sauce tastes good.”  I’m sure there are dishes in the UK. I don't want to try Blood Pudding.  That sounds gruesome.  It’s made with pig’s blood.  Yuck. I'm sure many enjoy it.

Did you know some crazy folks in Washington D.C. think we should do away with eating beef, pork or poultry and eat insects instead?  They think it will help with climate change.  I don’t want to eat Blood Pudding or bugs. No thanks.

We had a preacher friend who was preaching one Sunday. This was back in the day before A/C  was available, so windows were open.  Church windows had no screens at this church. A fly flew into his mouth, and he swallowed it.  He had a quick comeback.  He said, “He was a stranger, and I took him in.”  I think our friend was making a reference to Matthew 25:43. 

We had another preacher friend who was preaching when a light bulb fell from the socket above him. It smacked him on top of his bald head.  Funny things can happen to preachers.  My husband baptized a lady  who wore a wig. When he lowered her under, her wig came off her head and floated away.  I can’t imagine why she thought she could wear a wig while being ducked under water.

I have a friend who was new at being a preacher's wife. She arrived late to a funeral. Her husband was preaching, and she walked to the front of church wearing a red dress and a red hat. Her hubby turned the shade of the dress she wore.

How's your day going?  I hope you are having one filled with peace and health.

 Gay on YouTube

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