FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH

Our two West Highland Terrorists are instinctively possessive. They will both go out of their way to try to 'stash' food. Usually this constitutes covering up their food bowls with sticks, leaves and other debris. They'll often go so far as to push their bowls across the patio to places they presumably deem as secret and safe. When Winston, our special needs dog, becomes greedy in this way he is often betrayed by the nose on his face..



This morning I observed this ritual of avarice and thought how I have been similarly guilty. The end result has been the same.

I have sullied myself coveting the mundane.

The true treasures in my life gain value only when shared.

Matthew 6:21

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

WEEKEND WISDOM

Saturday...exciting event of the day: culling the closet (hey, it could be worse...I could be reading someone's blog about closet cleaning).

I got rid of the suit I bought more than 20 years ago. I also realized what XL means. It's on clothing I can wear and still exhale.
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Side note: I put in a new comment function. The other system had some problems and this one is much nicer. That means all previously posted comments are gone however, including the only comment I ever received from someone I didn't know....It was a watershed moment and Chuck (whoever you are), "I love ya man".

Although the comments feature will prompt you for an email address it's not mandatory and I wouldn't put one in if I were you.

SCENTIENT

"Where are You?"

I need to be reminded to breathe.

My body goes through the motions. Inhale. Exhale. Oxygenate the blood. The respiratory rote of system maintenance.

I need to be reminded to breathe.

It's been a hectic week and today I was fixated on the realization that next week will likely also be a struggle at the office. Too few people. Too many demands.

I need to be reminded to breathe.

This afternoon I was caught up in the hot dusty fumes of gas powered engines while mowing some of the church property. The heat bore down. I was sweating. It was unpleasant.

I need to be reminded to breathe.

The mower hit the lemon grass.

The lemon grass...a gentle redolent reminder.

Breathe.

The deep breaths.

The essence seizing lung filling breaths of appreciation and wonder.

"Ahhh...there You are..right where You've always been."

Job 33:4

The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life.

BREATHLESS

My sinuses are in raging rebellion. At the office this morning, I started getting whiffs of something in the air. At first, I thought it was the lingering odor of cheap cologne left behind by some unknown overnight employee. Then it seemed to become somewhat more noticeable and reminiscent of my long gone long-haired days of incense. Soon it became overpowering. I quickly ruled out the obvious: that someone was interviewing a hooker on the rock station down the hall; and the obtuse: that the janitorial staff had shown up for the once a year urinal cake renewal.

I put my investigative nose on the case, following it down the hall. I tracked the sickening bouquet to the tiny corner office of our equally tiny Operations Director for the "Soft Rock" station. Apparently he has become a sudden convert to aroma therapy. I initially was going to confront him about the steroidal vanilla scent emanating in waves from candles on his desk, but it was too overpowering. My head was pounding and my throat was tightening as my reddening eyes filled with tears. I ran from the building gasping in desperation for the familiar funk of my moldy car seats (if all the windows of my car rolled up completely I would have no memory of Hurricane Claudette).

I'm sure someone else at the office will raise a stink about "the candleman"...if the O.D. doesn't O-D on his own fumes first.
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It was the smell of money that sank Dan Morales. I have mentioned here before that Morales was the first San Antonio politician with whom I developed a relationship some 20 years ago. He became a shining star in the state Democratic party but now his star has burned out. He copped a plea today to tax evasion and mail fraud charges.

He will go to prison soon, corrupted by the flagrant fragrance of vast sums of money.

My nostrils are being assailed by acrid arrogance.

I am craving fresh air.

Psalm 115: 4-6
But their idols are silver and gold, made by the hands of men.
They have mouths, but cannot speak, eyes, but they cannot see;
they have ears, but cannot hear, noses, but they cannot smell

NEWS TO ME

Ah...a nap and some food...I'm better now. It occurred to me that I write very little here about my "job". I don't like to come home and fixate on what I did at work. I'm pretty good at leaving it at the office. I don't want to write news all day and then come and write about writing news.

Today however I am still thinking about this ABC story quoting U.S. soldiers in Iraq disparaging their role, and sounding very critical of the White House and the war.

I didn't run this story this morning on WOAI. I saw it. I had access to the audio, but I opted against airing it. It's an editor's prerogative, one I often use, but usually it's because I think a story is boring. I opted not to run this story today because it made vast generalizations. It said that members of the 3rd Infantry division in Iraq were disillusioned and morale was slipping. What it didn't say was how many members of the 3rd Infantry Division were adopting this woeful attitude. Instead the story, by Canadian reporter Jeffrey Kofman, was presented in a manner that implied ALL members of the 3rd infantry division had suddenly lost all faith in their leadership.

The 3rd Infantry Division deployed 16,500 troops to Iraq. To my knowledge, Kofman spoke to five soldiers.


Are soldiers who learned they're not going home as scheduled disappointed? Yes.
Is it fair to air a story implying U.S. troops are losing faith in their Commanders because of the remarks made by five soldiers? From an editorial viewpoint, I didn't think so.

But I'm not ABC.

PERCHANCE TO DREAM

The rain is coming down and I've been up for too long. The dogs are howling and I'm looking for some peace and quiet. Claudette is going away and the little birdies are back on the ledge.

Our reporters are asking our troops to complain about serving their country and Barry Diller wants Tom Brokaw to run for President.

The world is upside down.

I need a nap

WHOOSH

The winds are kicking up. Claudette's fluttering her skirt fringes in San Antonio and I'm watching radar hoping she's full of bluster and little more. Either this is a freak storm or our weather forecasters are really just guessmen. I've never seen a storm change from its predicted course so often. At 3 this morning "the experts" were talking about Claudette making landfall "tonight". The eye of the storm hit before noon. We wait for this hurricane for days and now she's suddenly in a hurry.

Women.
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One thing Claudette has accomplished is she's cleared the lingering swallow nestlings off our porch. The remaining trio bravely moved out their nest last night, but didn't venture much further. They were on the ledge when I left for work early today



Now they're gone...hopefully Claudette just gave them an indelicate nudge. Maybe the encroaching rains will wash away all the little birdie reminders splattered before our doorstep too.