Cantaloupe

Among other things, Kevin's growing cantaloupes this year.  As we were paring and cutting another this morning, and Kevin sampled a piece, I asked if it was sweeter than previous ones have been.  He said maybe a little bit, but he's liked them better -- at my suggestion -- with some sugar added.  "Well you didn't add sugar to that last bowlful, did you, because I did."

"Yes," he said, "I did.  But I only used about a teaspoon.  How much did you add to it?"

"Two or three tablespoons."

Candy.  We have cantaloupe candy.
It's delicious!  

How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!  Psalm 119:103

Facebook ID Photo Tutorial

Not.
Not really.
But I updated my ID photo today, and the gyrations were mildly interesting.

One can access a real tutorial here, which is where I began to understand the magicNot which occurs with photos uploaded to Facebook.  And it was through the counsel on that website that I learned an ID photo should be 160 pixels by 160 pixels.  To preserve clarity, uploading double that size, 320 pixels x 320 pixels, is advised.  I assume the web page author has tested this with good results.

Do I want good resolution at my age?  Prettymuch not.  However, my own past experience has taught me the ID photo size is increased in the photo album, itself, and if I’m going to be blown up, I’d prefer to not also be terribly pixelated, for a pixel-raggedy face is about as uncomely as, and more bizarre than, one bearing the etchings of real time; a very long flood stream of real time.   So I chose 320 x 320 as my base photo size.  Yes, it needs to be a square, or Facebook will apply their own cropping tool, and one doesn’t want to become a blockhead or lose a limb.

Now, I didn’t want my whole, old selfingness tattooed on the Internet.  My face would be humbling enough.  Neither, though, did I want that in size SCARE-US.  So I measured Facebook’s album presentation of my last ID photo.  The thing measured more in the neighborhood of 365 x 380, so I‘m not sure where Mr. Tutorial got his figures, and that’s way too much of my face in yours.   

“I can beat this thing.”

I put a gray border around my me-photo.  I was getting smaller.  Then a put a white picture frame around the gray, said frame actually being a blotchy white edging.  Next, I put a blue picture frame inside the white one, this comprised only of some thin, faint lines, tying it to the trim color in the page header and hopefully having the effect of drawing others‘ attention from MY FACE: “Oh look, how did she get those blue lines on there?”  *snort*

Now I totaled 380 x 380, further diminishing my SCARE-US factor, for a goodly bit of ME was framing.  How accomplished did I feel?  A bit.

The worst element in the process, though, is uploading the photo, for no matter how quickly one reloads the page and deletes the resulting post from her timeline, it stinkin’ hits the News Feeds.  NO!  STOP IT!  Don’t make people try to think of nice things to say to me about that photo!  For cryin’ in a bucket, I did all that maneuvering in an effort to be small and unnoticeable, and you slammed a report in the evening news.  Cruel. 

I’d only changed the photo because the last one had a shadow cast on my forehead which looked like I was wearing Buster Brown bangs.  I bore that shame for several months, actually preferring it over the News Feed’s mouthy LOOK AT HER! which would result from switching out the photo.  Where’s a rock?  …Are you kidding me?  I wouldn’t fit under that thing.  Just look at me.  NO, I DIDN’T MEAN THAT.  DON’T LOOK AT ME! 

When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, LORD, will I seek.  Psalm 27:8

A Spade

It’s about lies, but put that on hold.

Call a spade a spade.  That came to mind, so I decided to research the origin of the phrase.  Not often do I want to mire myself in lengthy articles, so I didn’t read the Wikipedia entry word-for-word, but I found some interesting bits.

“To 'call a spade a spade' is a figure of speech which explicitly calls out something as it is, by its right name.  The implication is not to lie about what something is and instead to speak honestly and directly about a topic, specifically topics that others may avoid speaking about due to their sensitivity, unpleasant, or embarrassing nature.”  [Emphasis added on account of that lie-thing, but we‘re still holding that at bay.  At bay - what‘s that mean?  I‘ll think about that tomorrow.  Or not.] Source 

In case you’re not interested in visiting Wikipedia, I have to include this slam by author Joseph Devlin, as he criticized writers wishing to portray linguistic superiority:

"For instance, you may not want to call a spade a spade.  You may prefer to call it a spatulous device for abrading the surface of the soil.  Better, however, to stick to the old familiar, simple name that your grandfather called it."

In a sense,  Devlin’s observation is useful in addressing that lie-thing.
Now we’ll do the lie.

“…[A]nd some reporters have told outright untruths.”

Untruths?
I’ve heard the word “unthruths” on television news.  I’ve heard it in a courtroom.  I’ve read it in print, even from Christian ministries.

Hold on while I check the dictionary . . .
It’s there.
Well, the archaic meaning is “unfaithfulness or disloyalty.”  That’s interesting.  In the current definition, though, we find the word LIE.  Surprise!

Is there anything wrong with an untruth?

The word “lie” is in the Bible, sometimes referencing a reclining position, but when referencing an untruth, the Bible says “lie.”  It also says liars will suffer a horrible fate.  Since God hates lying and addresses it most seriously, perhaps we do ill to mask the sin with prettier terms or ones not found in God‘s word.  God calls untruths “lies.”

A spatulous device for abrading the surface of the soil is a spade.
An untruth is a lie.

These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: a proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, an heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, a false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren. 

Drama

I’ve noticed on the Internet a recent spate of memes urging people to eliminate from their lives those who create, or bring with them, DRAMA.  Yes, eliminate those people from your life.

Really?

drama - (4) any situation or series of events having vivid, emotional, conflicting, or striking interest or results: the drama of a murder trial.  [For other definitions, see here.]

Do I know anyone whose life is void of situations or events which are vivid, emotional, conflicting, or of striking interest? 
No. 
I’m to live in isolation, solitary confinement?

No one dare harsh my mellow.
Keep your problems to yourself; mine are important, but yours . . . notsomuch.
I don’t have any drama in my life.  What's wrong with you?
Don’t drag ME into your stuff.  If it’s unpleasant, I’m sure you deserve it, so deal with it.
You're messy.  Go away.
I just want to have fun!

That’s Christlike.  Not.

I wonder if those who eliminate from their lives people who experience or create drama (i.e., live in the world; breathe) spend money to entertain themselves with imaginary drama. 

Ah, that was great!  All that edge-of-my-seat drama, and I didn’t have to invest a single thought or breath to encourage, uplift, guide, or share a burden.

Perhaps the creators of the memes mean something other than what is being conveyed.  I hope so.  Ü

Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.  (Galatians 6:2)

But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.  (I Peter 3:15)

Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.  For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.   (Ecclesiastes 4:9, 10)

This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.  For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy,  without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof: from such turn away.    (II Timothy 3:1-5)

TwitterNot

I usually don't remember how I arrived where I am, and such was the case when I created a Twitter account on Sunday.  I'd never wanted a Twitter account.  I'd never needed a Twitter account.  All I remember is having accessed some news on the Israel-Gaza conflict, and the source had a Twitter account.  Source mentioned tweeting timely updates, and I wanted those, because mainstream news is slow and insanely -- yes, insanely -- biased in favor of the Arab terrorists.   

insane
1. Unsound in mind or intellect; mad; deranged in mind; delirious; distracted.  
     Source: http://1828.mshaffer.com/d/word/insane

Creating the Twitter account was pretty straightforward.  I spent a little time familiarizing myself with the utilities and "followed" the news source and a pastor I like.  Then I went away.

I opened Twitter yesterday, Monday, to look for news and was met by a notification my account had been suspended:

"...Unfortunately, it looks like this account, @___, got caught up in one of these [automated sweep] spam groups by mistake."  (emphasis added)

Mistake.  Whose mistake?  Clearly, not my mistake, by Twitter's own admission.  Then I was cautioned to take care that I don't tweet anything that breaks the Twitter rules.  [For the record, the account stats show I have made 0 (zero) tweets, so even a hacker cannot have tweeted through my account.]  And the message concluded thusly:

"To continue using this account, please confirm below: 

"I understand that my account may be permanently suspended if I continue using Twitter in a way that violates the Twitter Rules."

There was a box to tick, making my false confession.

Turn down those lights.  May I have a drink of water?  Is that a one-way window in that wall behind me?  Could I stretch my legs, walk around a bit?

Okay, this just isn't worth it.  I'm going to delete the account.  The short of a vexingly long story is I cannot delete the account, unless I make the false confession.

This bird laid no eggs, tweeted no song, and has abandoned the nest to the buzzards.  I'll follow The Jewish Standard on Facebook.  Facebook.  That's a rant you won't want to hear.  But may. 

Twitter.  A big *pfft*!

Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice.  Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand.  Philippians 4:4-5