Streams of Consciousness & Thoughts~~~

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I’m doing all right! I’m sorry to hear about the migraines. Have you tried the chiropractor? #1 reason people see one is for migraines. Of course, it depends on the root of the issue.
 
This thread is still going? I remember the day Arwen started it. Literally. I was online the same time this thread was posted. Man, I wonder how many times I've posted in this thread alone. Or just the number of gifs I've posted.

Anyway, I'm back, baby!

How many people from around my time are still around?

Welcome back Aimee dear ! We've missed you.
 
I'm not still here. I am a clone. Which means I am here. But... And thus the cycle begins.
 
Ehh, life hasn't been great with migraines and such. How are you?

Hi Melita! How are you?

I can't remember if I've mentioned this to you before since it's been quite a while since you've been around. If you haven't before, you might want to ask your Dr. if you are eligible for Botox injections. My wife's number and severity of migraines dropped considerably after her Neurologist started her on Botox therapy.
 
I can't remember if I've mentioned this to you before since it's been quite a while since you've been around. If you haven't before, you might want to ask your Dr. if you are eligible for Botox injections. My wife's number and severity of migraines dropped considerably after her Neurologist started her on Botox therapy.

Plus her lips look marvelous.
 
So today I have learned that new board games make me do a happy dance. Guess who's got a new board game?
 
Thinking that we can be good enough for salvation dismisses Jesus' sacrifice. We were not saved by grace because we did what we were asked to. We were saved because God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son.
 
Is there going to be an invitation for game night?


Sure, whenever anyone is in the area and looking to play the kind of games that serious board gamers play (Monoploy and chutes and ladders just aren't going to cut it), and doesn't mind the fact that my apartment is so small that if more than one person is in it, we'll be getting in each other's way.
 
The most epic part of the Super Bowl was when Philadelphia Eagles Coach Doug Pederson, in his first interview after winning the Super Bowl, giving glory to and stating Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior when million eyes are on him live. And the following interview of the winning touch-down receiver and the quarterback does the same by giving glory to God first.
 
When I was a little girl, we lived in Minnesota. I don’t remember what the town was like, I can’t recall the bakery my mom worked in, and I only vaguely remember the woods behind our house. What I do have mental snapshots of is the snow, and my dad’s ugly little car, and...my dad. All of my memories of Minnesota are tied to him.

My grandparents drove up from Colorado to visit one summer; I remember how they looked, pulling the brown car into the driveway. My dad’s mother, short and round with vivid red (dyed) hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and a crisp white blouse. His father- a tall, powerful man, age only just beginning to take its toll. Denim bib overalls over a plain white shirt. Ball cap turned ever so slightly off center. He smelled like beer and peppermint candy and he started swearing before he even got out of the car.

I got to ride with Dad and Grandpa into St. Paul one day. I’d never been to a big city, and I remember how...mysterious, and alien it seemed. It was raining; I kept pressing my face against the window in the back seat to try to see the buildings better. Grandpa cursed every time he heard me breathe on the glass- “Kids gunk up every —— thing”. But he slipped me candy every so often and pointed out things he thought I’d like.

My dad drove, and when he was behind the wheel, he told stories. I believed every word, no matter how bizarre- and his stories were Always bizarre. He bought me a bag of gummy worms that day, and told me I could eat them all as long as I didn’t tell Grandma.

Both my dad and my grandpa are gone now. Grandpa got sick and was in the hospital at the same time I was there to have my son. I didn’t- couldn’t- go see him; I hadn’t seen him in years. He was pleased, I was told, to hear he had another great-grandson. He died a couple of days after I brought my baby home. My dad died less than three years later, after my daughter was born. He fell from a roof at work and had internal bleeding. I hadn’t talked to him in years, either.

I don’t know why this is getting to me tonight, why I’m sitting in the dark remembering St. Paul while the rest of my family is peacefully dreaming. I Feel like I’m dreaming; maybe I am. Maybe my dad isn’t gone, maybe Grandpa will call and ask me to go fishing. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and still be in the back seat of the car, drawing smiley faces on the window and watching the rain drops forge erratic paths down the glass.

55F7006B-B061-44D5-9869-27F5BC6B7DF7.jpeg
 
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When I was a little girl, we lived in Minnesota. I don’t remember what the town was like, I can’t recall the bakery my mom worked in, and I only vaguely remember the woods behind our house. What I do have mental snapshots of is the snow, and my dad’s ugly little car, and...my dad. All of my memories of Minnesota are tied to him.

My grandparents drove up from Colorado to visit one summer; I remember how they looked, pulling the brown car into the driveway. My dad’s mother, short and round with vivid red (dyed) hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and a crisp white blouse. His father- a tall, powerful man, age only just beginning to take its toll. Denim bib overalls over a plain white shirt. Ball cap turned ever so slightly off center. He smelled like beer and peppermint candy and he started swearing before he even got out of the car.

I got to ride with Dad and Grandpa into St. Paul one day. I’d never been to a big city, and I remember how...mysterious, and alien it seemed. It was raining; I kept pressing my face against the window in the back seat to try to see the buildings better. Grandpa cursed every time he heard me breathe on the glass- “Kids gunk up every —— thing”. But he slipped me candy every so often and pointed out things he thought I’d like.

My dad drove, and when he was behind the wheel, he told stories. I believed every word, no matter how bizarre- and his stories were Always bizarre. He bought me a bag of gummy worms that day, and told me I could eat them all as long as I didn’t tell Grandma.

Both my dad and my grandpa are gone now. Grandpa got sick and was in the hospital at the same time I was there to have my son. I didn’t- couldn’t- go see him; I hadn’t seen him in years. He was pleased, I was told, to hear he had another great-grandson. He died a couple of days after I brought my baby home. My dad died less than three years later, after my daughter was born. He fell from a roof at work and had internal bleeding. I hadn’t talked to him in years, either.

I don’t know why this is getting to me tonight, why I’m sitting in the dark remembering St. Paul while the rest of my family is peacefully dreaming. I Feel like I’m dreaming; maybe I am. Maybe my dad isn’t gone, maybe Grandpa will call and ask me to go fishing. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and still be in the back seat of the car, drawing smiley faces on the window and watching the rain drops forge erratic paths down the glass.

View attachment 178271

This is how I think about the past.
 
Only new ones? New as in recently invented, or new as in you've never had a copy before?

This is my super all-time most favorite board game:
https://www.amazon.com/Endless-Game...pID=51bs6gs1d2L&preST=_SY300_QL70_&dpSrc=srch

Of course it's my favorite because I always won. My brain seems to be index-linked to my music collection.

New as in new to me because then I can play it all I want. And I think I got banned from playing encore after my one and only time playing it because I remember everything, including the lyrics to any song I've ever heard and all the verses of the hymns we sang in church (sort of, the number of times I have to hear it to remember it is usually inversely proportional to the magnitude of my desire to actually know the words to said song). Also I miss hymns.
 
cinder: yeah, that was my problem too. Also I was playing against a lot of people who didn't know many christian songs, and I knew a lot of songs from everywhere, so I had a slight advantage.

We played this game in 8th grade music class and the game requirement is to sing eight words of the song. Eight words? That's barely a quarter of a chorus! The teacher kept having to tell me to stop and let the other team try to come up with a song now.
 
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I’m doing all right! I’m sorry to hear about the migraines. Have you tried the chiropractor? #1 reason people see one is for migraines. Of course, it depends on the root of the issue.

Migraines can be cured with grape juice.