Fog, Venting, and the BOOK

Hello to you! Thank you so much for popping in!

On my fun walk a few days ago.

A much more sophisticated "teacher bag" than the one Mrs. M carries.

Would YOU wear these boots? Would you wear these boots if you could wear soft, spongy, comfy shoes?

My commute to school, flavored with fog, consists of fast cars, cell phone talkers, and the same old, same old. I do like driving fast on the highway, though. Frankly, I felt a bit foggy myself, going back into the hallowed halls of learning (choke) and dealing with all the spirit week stuff. I'm sorry, but I'm 51 and dressing up like a fashion disaster didn't sound fun. Dressing retro - nope. Okay, I did wear red and green (ugly red capris that don't really fit right and a weird green vest). Today, nerd day. I have issues with this. Then tomorrow it is just school spirit clothes and I CAN do that. I am so glad this is almost over. I just don't really find it fun. It separates the kids who love the IDEA of being a part of something and the kids who don't feel like they ARE a part of something. The world really doesn't understand community. We feign caring, pretend like winning a game really matters, preach that we all should be positive (even though the people who say this are often the most critical and snooty) and I find it nauseating. I'm just saying.
On a happier note, Bill spoke at a fund raising event tonight and after newspaper club (they are SO precious - wanting press passes and actually thinking we'll put out up to date news!) I was SO done. However, I wanted to go and I'm so glad I did. I met some AWESOME people. But the impression that I'm holding as a little jewel in my heart now and I want to share with you is this: A college student went up to share her story of redemption. She looked very typical and spoke in the current slang. She repeated herself and didn't really have a plan for what she wanted to say. But, her tattered Bible that she took up on the stage with her said it all. It was worn. The pages had all been turned. It looked loved, used, cherished. That spoke to me. One of my childhood friend's father had a Bible that made a similar impression on me. He kept it at the breakfast nook and I saw it when Vickie and I were eating after-school bowls of ice cream. I was fascinated by it because it had that same "used" look. It looked very loved and very valued. God's love letter to me. My sweet thirty one year old Bible. I have so many books and I love them, but this BOOK, this book is the treasured one.

What does yours look like? I'd love to see it.