WAIT A MINUTE, I DON'T EVEN LIKE IT

According to the statistics on my Pinterest board, 1,319 people have pinned (or copied) this little YW inspirational board I put up almost a year ago.





And that bothers me just a little bit. Because I don't really think it's that great.


While I DO think some of my other pins are FANTASTIC, and MUCH more worth copying.

And anything with Benedict Cumberbatch's neck in it.

Anything.

OKAY, PEOPLE, LET'S GET EXCITED ABOUT SOMETHING

The last couple of weeks... well, perhaps actually months... have been less than ideal.

Even knowing what the causes are (my brother, my husband, my depression), I haven't been able to write freely about it -- and writing is my main therapy.

So I'm trying a few other techniques. Openly copied from Pinterest posts.

And this last one, of course, is the most important.

THUNDER & LIGHTENING VS RAINBOWS

There are quite a few nasty things in our little world that occur fairly regularly.


Spouses are abused, belittled, and cheated on.






Children are beat up, starved, locked up, sold, and deserted.




People cheat, steal, lie and hurt each other deliberately.

Sexual predators prey on the young, the poor, the defenseless.

Money is stolen from the elderly, virtue is taken from the young, addictions are carefully sown to provide fortunes to the suppliers.

So instead of getting all worked up about individuals who love and support each other and who want to be married legally, and publicly vow to be bound to each other for the rest of their mortal lives...

Could you please channel some of that energy exploding out against gay marriage to solve the real crimes against humanity.

YOU LIKE HORSES, YOU SAY

This post will make sense to horse people.

But not the "oh yes I love horses" people.

Not the "gosh I like riding" and "a mad gallop is the most fun" and "when can we go riding on your horses?"

I'm talking about and to the mucking out, detangling, curry-combing, hoof-picking, fly-spraying crowd.

Those of us who feed twice a day. Who clean out and bleach water troughs, who lug heavy salt blocks on to pasture. Who clean brushes and saddles and ropes. Who sit up nights waiting for a foaling mare, or walking a colicky gelding.

Yeah, horse people.

So -  when a "oh yes I love horses" person wants to come over and go galloping off on one of your horses, are you as mean as I am?

Because I always tell them, "Sure! Come on over!" and THEN watch as they struggle through grooming, saddling and then finally GIVE UP when they have to clean out the hooves.

I must admit it is a great deal of fun.

And my horses never get one of them on their backs

PREACHING AGAINST PINTEREST

My oldest daughter has introduced me to an awful lot of good things in my life.




The Office. The Dave Matthews Band. Cinnamon Twists at Taco Bell. 36" inseams. Three inch heels even when you are over 5'9". Pandora radio. Downton Abbey.






And Sherlock, the BBC series.

Which is a convenient segue to the title subject.



Harmony also had told me about Pinterest, describing it as a series of pinboards to share and save things you liked.

She forgot to mention that it is also a pathway to outer darkness and loss of your soul.

It begins innocently enough, with putting funny names on your boards, and finding neat quotes and thoughts that you'd like to share.

But then slowly and surely it begins to suck you in.

You begin checking your boards at odd times during the day to see if anyone has pinned anything off of your stuff.

Then you start exploring other people's boards, and pinning stuff off of their boards, and seeing where they had gotten it, and then what else is there.












And by then 85% of your waking hours is spent searching and putting gorgeous photos of Benedict Cumberbatch all over the Internet.





I guess there are worse things to spend your time, but I am beginning to see that Pinterest is to women what pornography is to men.

WHEN THE CHILDREN GET HURT

When your child is an infant, and bangs against something hard, there isn't much you can except hold them close and try to keep them away from the hard thing.

When they begin walking, you let them cry a little and try again.

At least until they begin school, you can kiss a boo-boo and the pain will go away.

Then large boxes of Johnson and Johnson band-aids begin to be stored, and certain bowls, towels, ice packs and Ace bandages, and suddenly the teenager athletic is taking care of their own injuries.

Except I now have animals instead.

Who can't communicate what hurts, where it hurts and/or how much it hurts.

But can still whimper, moan and cry because of the pain.

So you can't kiss it, you can't treat it, and they can't do much of anything on their own except lie on the ground and look miserable.

DID SOMEONE NOTICE?

A couple of things have really cheered me up.

The other evening I came across a Pinterest board concerning mental illnesses, and since I deal with depression a LOT (my husband seriously depressed, even when on meds - my second daughter depressed, even when on SERIOUS meds - my son depressed, and not taking ANY meds for it), I started my own board about depression, and began pinnning various things about it, suicide, assistance, NAMI, etc.

And my other daughter texted me right away - "I just looked at your Pinterest... are you doing okay?? I want to give you a huge hug!"

And yesterday at church, one of our sweet young women, passing me in the hall, said, "Wow, Sister Wiltfong, the color of that sweater is just perfect for you!"

Over the years, I have gotten pretty good at patting myself on the back for things I accomplish, because I don't normally get it from anyone else -- so it IS extra nice when someone DOES notice.