So apparently this antibiotic I took was so strong as to ALMOST be an anti-Sarah, which means as I stopped taking it, I came down with an epic head cold. I finally got tired of it yesterday and spent most of the day curled up with books or sleeping, and then went to bed at nine, which means I slept almost 12 hours, on top of all I’d slept during the day.
I keep forgetting that this works to cure colds. My aunt (mom’s younger sister) used to think Port Wine cured colds, because you drank as much as you could stand, then woke a day later without a cold. But I find for me it works just fine without the Port Wine in the equation. I’m still a little snuffly, but there isn’t that feeling I’m trying to think through cork.
Yes, I’m aware this is a few days late. Bear with me, I’m cycling down right now. Energy is low.
So, Sunday was the day Americans have set aside to celebrate the women in their lives that have given them birth, reared them, reared their children, been their mentors or important female role models in their lives. Or any mixture of the above.
A mother is the first teacher a child has. So many sayings reflect this. “The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world” is one of the first that springs to mind. Another, from one of my favorite movies, The Crow. “Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.” Paul speaking to Timothy in II Timothy 1:5 “5 When I call to remembrance the unfeigned faith that is in thee, which dwelt first in thy grandmother Lois, and thy mother Eunice; and I am persuaded that in thee also.” The bond between mother and child has become the human standard by which all other loves are measured. “The face only a mother could love.”
I imagine the struggles of Mary as she watched her son, Jesus, grow from His miraculous birth through his upstart twelve-year-old’s debate with the Temple leaders. Such embarrassment for a mother! Rearing a sinless child couldn’t have been easy. Not that anything she did contributed to His perfection, but dealing with the consequences of a Child Who never lied, never disobeyed, never stole a cookie, was never cruel, never, ever broke ANY of the commandments. Whew! Then, when He was a grown Man, at a time when most His age had families and children of their own, He started wandering around the countryside preaching blasphemy and sedition, hanging around with (reformed) harlots and publicans. When she and her other sons went to perform what we would today call an intervention, He denied them as family. Matthew 12:46-50 “46 While he yet talked to the people, behold, his mother and his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him. 47 Then one said unto him, Behold, thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to speak with thee. 48 But he answered and said unto him that told him, Who is my mother? and who are my brethren? 49 And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren! 50For whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.” Heartbreaking!
We know she, if not his brothers, eventually came to be one of His followers during His life. Where else would a mother be at the ignominious death by crucifixion of her beloved eldest Son, but at the foot of the Cross, standing next to His most beloved disciple, whom He commanded to take over her care for the rest of her life, making sure she would have safety and comfort in her old age, which He would not be here on Earth to provide. Commanding her, His most precious mother, the one chosen by God the Father to bring forth the Most Precious Gift of All Time to turn to John for the physical comfort He as her eldest Son could not provide. I can only imagine the depths of love and apology in His eyes as He spoke those words. John 19:26-27 “26 When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son! 27 Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.”
For my own mother, I sent her a bouquet last week. I wanted to do something extra because it was the first Mother’s Day without her mother. When I called on Monday to make sure she would be home for the Wednesday delivery, I got a five-minute lecture about how poorly I was handling my finances. There was a two-word thank you when she posted the picture I asked for on Facebook, to make sure the bouquet I ordered was the one she received. I had the card signed as from me and my cats as a light-hearted attempt at humor. When I called on Sunday, she let the call go to voice mail because she said she and Dad were visiting with a woman in the nearby nursing home who had invited them to dinner “weeks ago”, but when my friend, who also calls my mom, “Mom”, (her mom is still alive and doing fine, I have no problem sharing) called 10 minutes later, Mom picked up. I don’t know if my brothers called or not. When I called again later in the day, she explained why she hadn’t picked up and I forced the conversation to a lengthy 15 minutes simply by virtue of not shutting up until I had caught up on a few things with her. She said she knew I’d call back and wasn’t worried about missing the call.
Chariots of Fire is undoubtedly one of my favorite movies. It tells the story of two runners who competed in the 1924 Paris Olympics. One of those runners was a man by the name of Eric Liddell, a man dubbed the “Flying Scotsman” because of his nationality and astounding speed. But in addition to being a superlative runner and all around athlete, Eric Liddell was a man of deep Christian convictions. The son of missionaries, born in China, Eric’s vision was always to return to the mission field to do the essential work of spreading the gospel. But Eric also felt that God had given him a great gift in his athletic abilities and he was determined to put these gifts to good use. To that end he trained hard for the Olympics in the event in which he had already set a record in Britain –…
I have been trying to sit down and write this post for two days now.
I spent this past weekend getting my geek on at Demicon 26. From registration and Opening Ceremonies at 7:00 pm Friday night to Closing Ceremonies ending at 4:00 pm on Sunday afternoon, I basked in the aura of sci-fi, fantasy, and a little horror.
I made the decision to rent a car to go down initially because Enterprise (not the starship, unfortunately) had a special going on. However, after adding the expense of insurance coverage and the pre-paid gas, it came to be quite the bill. I have decided it would be far simpler to just rent a room in the hotel next year and the expense would not be that much different. I made the reservation for a double queen rather than a single king so that if I can find someone to share the room with, that will defray the cost. I won’t have to worry about driving back and forth or finding a parking space. The hotel is wonderful and loves having the con there. They recently went through a renovation and started with the fifth floor because that’s the floor we normally take over. However, their parking lot is the size of the postage stamp. With a con that brings in over 550 people for the weekend, that is a problem.
The Trans-Iowa Canal Company put on their usual stellar performance during the opening ceremonies with a play entitled “The Librarians and the Flask of Light”, a tongue-in-cheek, in-joke filled, skit. There weren’t any panels going on after the ceremonies that I wanted to go to and it was too late to get into any of the role-playing games. There were room parties going on, but I was a little tired and leery of driving in the dark after such a long time out of the driver’s seat, so I chatted with a few people then headed home.
Saturday morning dawned gloomy and muggy with the strong prediction for rain. I had scheduled an appointment with the con’s Blood drive for 10:00, so I made sure to drink plenty of fluids and got set up for the day. I loaded a backpack with 3 one-liter bottles of my green tea/water mix and bags of healthy snacks from graze.com, my Kindle, my wallet and my cell phone. I didn’t pack the dead tree version of the writer GoH’s book because I thought the signing event was Sunday. (I was wrong.) I had called the Blood Center earlier in the week to be sure that none of the drugs I take would preclude me from donating, so I was ready to go. I fed the cats, made sure they had fresh water and headed out.
I got inside and was looking at the schedule to see what I wanted to do for the day only to see that I had missed the date and that the GoH signing was happening *now*. I hurried into the Dealers’ Room, heading for author/dealer Glen Cook‘s table to see if he had a copy of a Jim C. Hines’ book that I had read. A witch (seriously, pointed hat, broomstick, crochet cat on her shoulder, bushy grey hair) was there in front of me, grabbed the last copies of the first two books in Jim’s Libriomancer (Magic Ex Libris) series and asked Glen to hold them for her until Sunday. Grrr! I did spot the first book in his Princess series, The Stepsister Scheme. Glen wasn’t set up for plastic, but I did have some cash. (Next year, I’m packing my checkbook.) Book bought, author accessed, signature secured. SCORE!
On to the panel discussions. Doctor Who at 52, which was very well done. The person who ran it apparently has connections and insider info, as well as being obsessed. Harry Dresden, which was kind of thrown together because the original panelist had to miss the con because of family issues. The fillers did quite well. A quick mid-afternoon run home for meds and a meal. Back to the gaming rooms for a few new table games, new to me anyway. One with mini-robots called Volt and a card game made a long time ago by Wizards of the Coast of Magic: The Gathering fame that I don’t remember the name of. One I lost badly, the other I won by a landslide. Then, some cruising, up to the consuite, stopping at a few of the room parties on the fifth floor, chatting with people, back down to the main room just in time for the Art Auction. Some very beautiful pieces. One that was exquisite had a starting bid from being on display, so I couldn’t even dream of it. I picked up a couple of sharp, pointy things and a choose-your-own-adventure book that were charity items. The book is by a local author and is signed. I thought it would make a good birthday present for Nephew #1. An enthusiastic newbie (aged 7?) had to be stifled by his mother to keep from up-bidding himself. He got a couple of things, too. There were some huge movie posters. I mean 4×6 feet huge.
Back up to the consuite for some supper. They had chili dogs with cheese! nomnomnom
Because I’m fan of talking back to the screen in movies, especially of bad movies, I went to Hor-RIFF-fic Productions to watch them take on that cinematic eco-terror classic from 1972 starring Ray Milland, Sam Elliot and Joan van Ark, FROGS! Gary and Erin “Slasher” and their co-panelist, “Satan” had some very funny lines. My problem was that I couldn’t understand them. Their lines were too loud and ran over the lines they were mocking in the movie, which was too soft, so much of the humor didn’t make sense. Also, many times, the words were slurred and I couldn’t distinguish what they were saying. Probably would have been funnier if I could have read their script as I watched the movie on my own. On a side note, Gary and Erin are next year’s Demicon’s Fan Guests of Honor.
Then back up to the fifth floor for a screening of the 1975 classic sass-back, The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I dragged a chair down the hall because, at my age and physical condition, I don’t take the floor, and none of the teeny-boppers on the loveseat were willing to move. The show was delayed waiting for the missus to arrive, but we eventually got started. This movie is one of my Top Five. I’ve seen it often enough I didn’t worry about not knowing the lines of the movie, but I wanted to see if the speak-back parts were as I remembered from watching with friends before and if there any new I could discover. A disappointing F-Bomb filled 90 minutes ensued. They were going to show the 1981 sequel, Shock Treatment. I decided enough was enough, and I had to drive home.
I struggled out of bed on Sunday because I had slept so poorly Saturday night. Wired 5×5. Nice to find out Pandora has a ‘sleep’ function. I decided to try the role-playing game, Pathfinder Society. It was a good module. I got to play an Elven Rogue. <Evil Grin> The GM gave me a membership card that I could use to join in online. Apparently, it’s international. Looks like fun. We finished just in time to catch the end of Win, Lose or Draw and then Closing Ceremonies.
I can’t wait for next year.
Edit Post: I completely forgot to mention all of the wacky, wonderful, and fantastic costumes I saw. From faeries to steam punk adventurers, from Klingon jailers to a grade school Pika-chu who encouraged a shy questioner in a panel discussion to, “Let your freak flag fly freely, it’s Demicon!” One of the Weeping Angels even stopped in. Mea culpa.