James Writers

Ducks and Geese

2011-12-06T11:36:00.000-06:00

Today I visited the lake where Mary (Mean Mary) and I left Baby. Baby was the little female duckling from the Big Red Barn video – the duckling that stowed away in the suitcase at the video’s end. She was a full grown duck when we left her at the lake, a lake teaming with waterfowl, so we hoped she’d be okay. We don’t have a pond at our place, just a little pool I’d built for her, and we were afraid it would be inadequate come hot weather. She just loved clean, cool water.

The first time we went back to check on her, she was with a family of 13 geese. At that point we searched the entire lake and found only geese – about forty – and not a single duck. But she seemed happy swimming around with this group, so we left her there.

I continued to check on her regularly and she was always with the geese. They had totally accepted her and she looked beautiful and healthy. Being solid white, she stood out and was always easy to locate among those droves of grey geese, but I was worried about what would happen if the geese migrated. Some geese do stay year round in Tennessee, but I wasn’t sure these ones would.

After the first cold spell, I hurried over to see if she was alone. There she was swimming around with 11 geese. All the other geese had left. One of the geese seemed to be her special friend. Every time she’d veer off a foot or two, it would be right beside her. I hoped maybe this group was going to winter there.

A short time later we had another cold spell, a harsher one. I rushed to the lake and didn’t find any birds at first. Finally I saw her – swimming happily around with one very-attentive, grey gander. He’d stayed behind when the rest of the geese flew south, and now he and Baby had the entire lake to themselves. I’ll keep checking on her, but whatever happens now, I’ll always be glad I released her. She’s had eight months to live wild and free!

The wonderful, terrible power of words

2011-07-17T07:36:00.000-05:00

2Chronicles 32:7-8: Be strong and courageous, be not afraid nor dismayed for the king of Assyria, nor for all the multitude that is with him: for there be more with us than with him:

With him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the LORD our God to help us, and to fight our battles. And the people rested themselves upon the words of Hezekiah king of Judah.

Upon hearing Hezekiah’s words of hope, the people rested from their worries. That is the wonderful, terrible power of words! Words can tear down and destroy or they can lift up. Our words of comfort and hope can often accomplish more than our greatest acts of charity. And if we are the ones being hurt, we can go straight to God’s Holy Word and find all the words we need. They will change everything—God’s words of power and love.

Another dead coffee maker, euthanized by sledge hammer and reconstructed by desperation!

2011-04-17T13:45:00.001-05:00

Why doesn’t anyone make a coffee pot under $20 that lasts for more than a few months? No matter what brand I purchase, they still only last until their warranty’s defunct. These manufacturers know their stuff, that’s for sure. They can set the life of a commodity right down to hours and minutes. Of course I could go out and buy a more expensive model, but what if it died just as quickly?

I disassembled each of my last three coffee makers in an attempt to get more life out of them. In each case I discovered the malfunction had nothing to do with an electrical disconnection or clogged tubes. They had simply been built with cheapo electric elements that didn’t last.

Now I’m putting to rest my newest one, in the picture above. It lasted two months and it wasn’t created disassemble-friendly. A sledgehammer convinced it to cooperate. Again it was simply that the electric element (the one that sends the water up the tube) had grown feeble. The actual hot plate part of it still worked ... and it was with that I began my experiments, or should I call it a creation?

I placed the coffee pot on the warmer (the only portion the sledge left intact), and filled the paper-lined plastic filter basket with grounds enough for 12 cups of coffee. I boiled 12 cups of water on the range and poured in slowly over the grounds. Half an hour later I was still trying to get the coffee to run through to the pot below. The grounds must have turned to glue because they wouldn’t let the water pass. The basket was about to overflow, the pot below was only half full, and no liquid was dripping.

Starting over again with only half the amount of coffee and boiling water, I ran into the same problem. I burnt my fingers and spilled coffee and grounds all over the counter trying to close the top of the paper filter and squeeze the liquid out.

At that point I resorted to one of my ancient cookbooks, 1931, to learn what I could about preparing coffee the old fashioned way – by boiling it. It traitorously informed me right away that boiled coffee wasn’t any good and that drip coffee was the best. And all the time I’d thought my new method was drip—only it had just stopped dripping. I guess that made it boiled coffee or possibly squeezed coffee.

I gathered all my loose pieces and tried again, only this time I found a metal container that would hold six cups of water and punched tiny holes in the bottom to allow dripping. With the glass coffee pot sitting on the heating pad, topped by a lined filter basket of coffee grounds, topped by a now-leaky can of six cups of fresh boiled water I watched my experiment take place.

In five minutes the coffee was ready—excellent, smooth coffee! Maybe I should see about a patent???

THE FRONT LINE

2010-11-21T11:15:00.000-06:00

We read with awe about Christian soldiers and martyrs, how they fought unceasingly whether exhausted, starved, faint, or afraid, and we wonder if we could do the same or if we’d give in to fear and weakness. We wonder if we’ll ever be put to such a test.

The answer is yes, we are constantly tested in this way whether we realize it or not. A major period of testing comes when we go to prayer. Prayer can be a battle as serious and important as any recorded in history. It’s our chance to show God what kind of soldier we are, how sincerely we desire His help and guidance, and how much we love Him. It is a battle to pray when we’re not inclined to pray, when were too tired to pray, or when we have no time to pray. When we’re exhausted, sleepy, in pain, or weak we can ask God to be satisfied with a few words spoken in His behalf after we’re under our covers or we can be brave and prove we’re worthy soldiers of our Lord. And if we desire to be one of His mightiest soldiers, the ones who defend the front line, then we might kneel when we hurt too much to kneel, walk to a trysting place when we’re too tired to walk, and pray in faith when defeat and fear run rampant through our life.

In a minute’s time we can prove to ourselves and God what kind of soldier we are. If this were the only battle the Lord gave us, isn’t it a worthy battle?

Miracle Food or . . .

2010-06-03T12:49:00.000-05:00

My daughter just sent me this wonderful gift—a king-sized container of organic, extra virgin coconut oil. According to all the press it’s been getting lately it’s a real miracle product—a snowy-white, guilt-free oil with unlimited health benefits. Taken internally it’s said to help lower cholesterol, aid with diets, immunity, healing, digestion, and stress, strengthen bones and teeth, and give relief from pancreatitis, liver and kidney problems, heart diseases, high blood pressure, diabetes, HIV, and cancer. Externally it’s used for skin care, hair care, and is even said to stimulate hair growth. Hopefully they meant “head” hair since it’s also in my tanning lotion.

Now, before I go further I’ll explain a little of what I learned about coconut oil. My daughter sent it to me in early spring—and my house is very cold that time of year. The oil was hard, so hard I had to use a knife to chip off a piece of the oil. I soon discovered that when the oil was warmed to a more moderate temperature it had a soft creamy texture, and when warmed slightly more it turned liquid.

Upon my first taste of the oil I fell in love with it. It was delicious! I could eat it right out of the container. With a smidgeon of sugar it would taste like pudding. I discovered it’s also fantastic as a butter or margarine substitute. I tried great gobs of it on top of a biscuit and it was incredible.

Finally I tried it in my cooking—a no-bake cheesecake mix. Usually I eat the filling and toss away most of the graham cracker crust because it falls apart. I cause that problem myself because I use olive oil instead of margarine, but this time I tried my new coconut oil for the crust.

I melted the oil, prepared the crust, and put the pie in the refrigerator to chill. An hour later, when it was time to serve desert, I wasn’t able to cut it. I tried my sharpest knife to no avail. At one point I became so frustrated I tried stabbing it in hopes it would break. I stupidly stabbed the knife through my finger and had to leave and repair that damage. When I returned to my cheesecake I tried sawing the crust with a serrated blade knife and was finally able to break off the individual pieces and serve them.

Success! For the first time ever I was able to hold a slice of pie in my hand and have it stay together while I ate it. And the amazing thing about it was it lost its brittleness as soon as it entered my mouth. It melted on my tongue, the most delicious cheesecake I’d ever eaten.

Now that I understand the oil, and truly believe it contains at least a few of the virtues they’ve ascribed it, I have only one big problem:

I’ve had poor circulation all my life. For eight months of the year my hands, feet, and other assorted parts of my anatomy stay icy—or at least the exact temperature of my surroundings. I also have tiny veins. I don’t doubt the articles that say coconut oil is good for your cholesterol, but I can’t help but wonder what would happen if I used coconut oil in the winter? Is it going to travel in my blood down to my cold feet and hands and other cold body parts? Am I going to freeze up in some weird position at some point? If I suddenly pass away, and don’t have time to get prone and straight, how will they get me into the casket? What if my legs were bent or if I died sitting in a chair? Does anyone have an answer? In a few months it will be winter again and . . . and I do love this coconut oil.

James Writers

2010-05-27T12:24:00.000-05:00

James Writers blog is the blog home of three writers: Jean James, Mary James (aka Mean Mary), and Frank James.