The end of a matter is better than its beginning,
and patience is better than pride.
--Ecclesiastes 7:8
and patience is better than pride.
--Ecclesiastes 7:8
I just realized that I have hit the 46th post mark. As much as I want to sheepishly say, "how in the world am I able to say that much?", my conscious can believe it. And now that I think about the fact that there are only three more posts away from hitting the big 5-0, I'm going to have to come up with something pretty darn amazing. Oh, and I'm sorry if that text is a little unreadable; I got a little carried away with the pastels.
Last night, I cooked for six girls, including myself. In honor of the beginning of Autumn, I made homemade lasagna, which I wish I would have taken a picture of because it was deliciously gorgeous, and homemade, from scratch, pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese icing, crowned with a candy-corn design. I also wish I would have taken a picture when they were in their "pretty stage", but apparently the icing I made likes to melt really easily, and now there is a cream/orange/yellow concoction of a mixture on top of the cupcakes. Good news is that they are still yummy and I will enjoy them regardless. This is what I was shooting for whenever I made them:
During the l-o-n-g process of making these delectable little darlings, I was trying to just make half a recipe's worth because the original one yielded 32. I did not want to contribute or be blamed for my friend's potential obesity issues. So here I am following the recipe to a T, when I started to be come quite impatient. Long story short, I ended up accidentally pouring the entire 15 oz. can of pumpkin into the mixture instead of half of the can. Oops. I baked them anyway since I was about halfway into the 30 minute baking process whenever I realized this. Next thing I knew, there was soggy, dark pumpkin-y flavored mush inside 12 cupcake liners. I really wasn't in the mood to go back to Walmart for the third time (the second trip was for the first pumpkin can), but then I found Ecclesiastes 7:8. Patience is definitely better than pride, and the end result of the most amazingly delicious goodness I called my own was definitely worth it in the end. The same situation was for my lasagna recipe. The recipe requires that the red sauce concoction simmer for at least 45 minutes, which seemed like forever. But, I remembered that once the last sprinkle of cheese was placed on top and thirty minutes at 375 degrees was completed, that my apartment would smell like home again.
Today was a reprise of my lesson patience. I arrived to the clinic two hours before my therapy session started so I would have plenty of time to look over the articulation test I was going to administer to my client. This effort resulted in the realization that the test I needed was checked out, and the backups owned by two separate professors were also checked out. Thankfully, there was a first edition that sufficed, but it was still a frustrating process trying to decipher my supervisor's contracting directions. I really think she does not mean to do this ... at least I hope not. First, she told me that the artic test that I essentially used would work, then she said I needed to do another test. Okie dokie. I can do this. I can administer a test I have never heard of and never seen in my life until now thirty minutes before therapy starts. Well, I couldn't find that test either, so I clicked-and-clacked my way back to her office (heels are so noisy on laminate floors) and told her that I couldn't find it. She followed me into the testing materials room and while we were walking down the hollow floor, she told me that she wanted me to administer the first edition artic test, and that the 2nd one was only there to interpret the first test. Bah humbug!
Once my client came, I started administering the test, knowing ahead of time that it would be quite difficult to understand and transcribe him. This poor little kid has a repaired cleft palate (aka hole in roof of mouth), and therefore his speech is very hard to understand. The best way I can describe it is trying to talk with your throat, or the sound you make when you're coughing up phlegm. Gross. I'm not exactly sure how she wants me to grade this thing, because it's going to be an interesting interpretation of the sounds he made.
Oh, and another little story. I'm just full of them today! :)
Because Thursday is the start of the annual OSHA (Oklahoma Speech Path Association) conference, I needed to cancel my therapy session for Thursday. I accidentally forgot to put the client's parent's number in my phone and ended up going home to call them. I couldn't tell who answered, so I started off with my general greeting and told them who I was and who I was calling for. I couldn't tell who I was talking to, but all I know is that they had their mouth as close to the microphone of their cell phone as possible. Not only that, but the other participant in this conversation either stutters or doesn't speak clearly over the phone or in person. I feel bad for those people who have to constantly hear "huh?" coming from the other side of the telephone conversation. Again, hello patience. Their voice reminded me of whenever we try to talk to people underwater. It's entertaining, but quite difficult to understand.
Last night, I cooked for six girls, including myself. In honor of the beginning of Autumn, I made homemade lasagna, which I wish I would have taken a picture of because it was deliciously gorgeous, and homemade, from scratch, pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese icing, crowned with a candy-corn design. I also wish I would have taken a picture when they were in their "pretty stage", but apparently the icing I made likes to melt really easily, and now there is a cream/orange/yellow concoction of a mixture on top of the cupcakes. Good news is that they are still yummy and I will enjoy them regardless. This is what I was shooting for whenever I made them:
During the l-o-n-g process of making these delectable little darlings, I was trying to just make half a recipe's worth because the original one yielded 32. I did not want to contribute or be blamed for my friend's potential obesity issues. So here I am following the recipe to a T, when I started to be come quite impatient. Long story short, I ended up accidentally pouring the entire 15 oz. can of pumpkin into the mixture instead of half of the can. Oops. I baked them anyway since I was about halfway into the 30 minute baking process whenever I realized this. Next thing I knew, there was soggy, dark pumpkin-y flavored mush inside 12 cupcake liners. I really wasn't in the mood to go back to Walmart for the third time (the second trip was for the first pumpkin can), but then I found Ecclesiastes 7:8. Patience is definitely better than pride, and the end result of the most amazingly delicious goodness I called my own was definitely worth it in the end. The same situation was for my lasagna recipe. The recipe requires that the red sauce concoction simmer for at least 45 minutes, which seemed like forever. But, I remembered that once the last sprinkle of cheese was placed on top and thirty minutes at 375 degrees was completed, that my apartment would smell like home again.Today was a reprise of my lesson patience. I arrived to the clinic two hours before my therapy session started so I would have plenty of time to look over the articulation test I was going to administer to my client. This effort resulted in the realization that the test I needed was checked out, and the backups owned by two separate professors were also checked out. Thankfully, there was a first edition that sufficed, but it was still a frustrating process trying to decipher my supervisor's contracting directions. I really think she does not mean to do this ... at least I hope not. First, she told me that the artic test that I essentially used would work, then she said I needed to do another test. Okie dokie. I can do this. I can administer a test I have never heard of and never seen in my life until now thirty minutes before therapy starts. Well, I couldn't find that test either, so I clicked-and-clacked my way back to her office (heels are so noisy on laminate floors) and told her that I couldn't find it. She followed me into the testing materials room and while we were walking down the hollow floor, she told me that she wanted me to administer the first edition artic test, and that the 2nd one was only there to interpret the first test. Bah humbug!
Once my client came, I started administering the test, knowing ahead of time that it would be quite difficult to understand and transcribe him. This poor little kid has a repaired cleft palate (aka hole in roof of mouth), and therefore his speech is very hard to understand. The best way I can describe it is trying to talk with your throat, or the sound you make when you're coughing up phlegm. Gross. I'm not exactly sure how she wants me to grade this thing, because it's going to be an interesting interpretation of the sounds he made.
Oh, and another little story. I'm just full of them today! :)
Because Thursday is the start of the annual OSHA (Oklahoma Speech Path Association) conference, I needed to cancel my therapy session for Thursday. I accidentally forgot to put the client's parent's number in my phone and ended up going home to call them. I couldn't tell who answered, so I started off with my general greeting and told them who I was and who I was calling for. I couldn't tell who I was talking to, but all I know is that they had their mouth as close to the microphone of their cell phone as possible. Not only that, but the other participant in this conversation either stutters or doesn't speak clearly over the phone or in person. I feel bad for those people who have to constantly hear "huh?" coming from the other side of the telephone conversation. Again, hello patience. Their voice reminded me of whenever we try to talk to people underwater. It's entertaining, but quite difficult to understand.
Lessons learned:
double check your shopping list,
buy an extra can of pumpkin,
and have patience with supervisors and clients.
double check your shopping list,
buy an extra can of pumpkin,
and have patience with supervisors and clients.
Good part of today: I received a letter from a lifelong friend today, and I finally had an excuse to use the new stationary I bought! :)
Point of this post, Kelsea?
Be patient. God was patient with us since the beginning. Whenever we were little bitty peas in a pod or burritos (I get this from when babies are swaddled in blankets so tight that all you can see is their face), God was patient with us. Thank the Lord (literally) that He is patient. I would have been through with this world a few thousand years ago.
Patience is a virtue, never let it go. Be patient to one another, we all make mistakes. Patience is always better than pride.
Much love,
klc
Point of this post, Kelsea?
Be patient. God was patient with us since the beginning. Whenever we were little bitty peas in a pod or burritos (I get this from when babies are swaddled in blankets so tight that all you can see is their face), God was patient with us. Thank the Lord (literally) that He is patient. I would have been through with this world a few thousand years ago.
Patience is a virtue, never let it go. Be patient to one another, we all make mistakes. Patience is always better than pride.
Much love,
klc
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