I took Granny-Grunt to Church today

Since both the parents are now living at LaDora Lodge, a fancy name for a not so fancy nursing home, they like to take every opportunity to get out of there for an adventure. I had planned to pick them up for church this morning and then take them out for a bite of lunch afterwards. We've done this a few times and its been nice but today we were going to visit my church. Now my church is Legacy Church of Christ. My parents go to Brown Trail Church of Christ. Both are wonderful congregations with kind and loving members. However, Brown Trail is a smaller congregation with about 200 members and Legacy has over 1000 members. Brown Trail is a bit more conservative than Legacy in their worship. We don't have any bands playing up front but occasionally someone claps to the singing or raises their hands in worship. Granny-Grunt hails from a generation which doesn't cotton to a church that doesn't worship the way it was done in the 50's. Also, it is well documented in the brotherhood that your home congregation must be named after the street you are located on or the city where you are located...i.e. The Church in Corinth, The Church in Rome, Azle Church of Christ, Pipeline Rd Church of Christ, Brown Trail Church of Christ. Mike Cooper won't visit our church because there ain't no Legacy....town or street. Anyway, when I got over to LaDora to pick them up I found Granny-Grunt ready to go and Grandpa sitting in his pj's reading the paper. He had come up with a lower intestine malady during the night. You don't want to hear more. So I took Granny-Grunt and headed over to the Church in North Richland Hills on Mid-Cities Blvd. known as Legacy Church of Christ. She was anxious to hear the beautiful singing and the lesson offered by a wonderful speaker, J Bailey. However, she got distracted by three little grandkids of mine. They all tried to entertain this older lady sitting in their spot. One by one they were all taken out because everyone around us was watching the grandkids instead of paying attention to the service....anyway that's what I'm thinking. Everyone around was staring at us anyway. After church I took Granny-Grunt out to eat. My son Cody and his family went with us. The three grandkids were just as cute as could be. Really entertaining...really. They all left early to "get the kids down for a nap". I swear I heard my daughter-in-law, Cayce, whimper when she walked out carrying the really real baby while my son wrestled with the walking and talking baby. Those kids are so darn cute. As we drove back to LaDora Granny-Grunt said the morning was the best she could remember. Of course she can't remember much. She introduces herself to Grandpa just about every morning. I was glad  to hear this because she sat silently through the whole service with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. I asked if she enjoyed the singing and preaching as much as she expected. She told me she didn't know. Her hearing aid battery died right after "Welcome all you visitors to Lega...."

Chat rooms...

I haven't tried a chat room since I got internet for the first time and innocently entered a chat room that was obviously for those with....I'll just say "different" interests. I just don't do chat rooms. Those my brother Glenn uses are a lot more practical because they discuss the merits, problems, and overall care of old cars. This has never interested me because I drive old cars as a necessity while it's a hobby for most.

A few weeks ago my dad decided he was strong enough to take the old Ford out for one more drive. In the process he racked up two collisions, one charge of leaving the scene of an accident, an encounter with a really large curb, and one flattened stop sign. The police officer was kind enough to not haul him into jail if one of us would pick him up and take away his keys forever. We did and he has decided "on his own" that he should probably not try to drive anymore. He asked me to take care of selling the Ford.

Debbie took me over to pick up the Ford and I drove it to my house. I made for sale signs and went out to attach the signs and back it up close to the street. I couldn't get it to start. I cranked and cranked and nothing would work. I saw a little red THEFT flashing on the dashboard so I went in and Googled "Ford Taurus Theft Device". Every entry ended with the same information, "refer to owner's manual". I knew my dad was very organized about things like this and immediately went to the car's glove box...which was empty...not even a proof of insurance card. I finally found the manual at their house in the drawer of an end table in the den...just where it ought to be. I looked up "theft device". The solution was simple: "Insert key on driver's door, turn left, unlock door and enter vehicle". That did not solve the problem so I called Glenn and he took the problem to the chat rooms. His first call back to me was to do what I had just done, insert key on driver's door....I told him that didn't work so he went back to the room. The next day I was told to try another approach which also didn't work. The next day the idea given to him was to "kill that stinkin theft device by cutting wires and shorting something pink against the frame". I didn't even try that. Finally he was given some really good advice: "Disconnect the battery and let the car sit for half an hour while the computer rebooted itself". Brilliant! I ran outside and immediately tried this remedy. Nope, that didn't fix it. I decided the only thing for me to do was to brave a chat room myself and explain in detail everything I had tried. Since I didn't know how to go about finding a room I Googled "Let's chat about what's ailing my Ford Taurus". I was led to a room and stated my problem. Nothing...no response...I am waiting...and then an answer came to me. The response was from the reverend Roy Albert Payne of the Church of the Living TV Station. It read: Hi there brethern, I am Roy Albert Payne. My friends call me Roy Al and I would be blessed if you would too. I am not a mechanic. I am an ordained minister in the work of the Lawd. I can HEAL your Taurus if you have faith and will send me anywhere from $50 to $1000 dollars. I will in turn send you one of my personally blessed prayer cloths which you can attach to the antenna of your vehicle and fly it proudly as you drive down the road in your perfectly restored auto. PRAISE THE LAWD!! As you travel down the road of life, even if you drive in the valley of the shadow of death, you will fear no evil for as you drive you will know that the reverend Roy Al Payne is flying there above you.....YESSSSSIR! I sent him $5. I hope it works.

The power of advertising...

While watching those brilliant criminal minds solve yet another gruesome case last night, my coma was interrupted by a commercial about fresh, hot biscuits...right out of your own oven in only eight minutes. Butter was dripping off them while honey was lazily poured on top. ARGHH, I needed those biscuits!!! I couldn't even doze back off when the program started again. I asked Debbie if she would go to the store as soon as possible to get two, no make that three cans of those golden biscuits. She told me we already had a can of biscuits in the fridge which I could make tomorrow morning if I wanted.

As soon as I woke this morning a little song (to the tune of "Can't Get Enough Of Those Sugar Crisps") started repeating itself in my brain. "Gonna git me some o' those biscuits, biscuits, biscuits". I got all dressed up for work, and I have to admit I looked pretty darn good. I turned on the coffee and pre-heated the oven....still singing "biscuits, biscuits, biscuits". I rummaged through the fridge in a near panic before finding the biscuits tucked way in the back...."biscuits, biscuits, biscuits"...I found a flat cookie sheet, greased it, washed off the grease after reading the instructions on the can, and slowly unpeeled the label off the can....AS instructed. One half inch into the peeling process I was surprised by a loud KABOOM! That can of biscuits went off like the Fourth of July. Little biscuit shrapnel covered my shirt, my face, my glasses, and my hair. Biscuit dough dotted the cabinets, the stove, a nice display of fresh oranges, and the ceiling. As I regained conscienceness and looked at what was left of the biscuit can I was able to make out the expiration date...July 24, 2012. I swear I heard Debbie giggling from the bedroom while I cleaned up the mess.