The Zombie Apocalypse

So I was just browsing through the Word of God the other day and stumbled upon Isaiah 26.

Isaiah 26:19-21
¹⁹ Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in dust: for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out the dead.
²⁰ Come, my people, enter thou into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee: hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast.
²¹ For, behold, the Lord cometh out of his place to punish the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity: the earth also shall disclose her blood, and shall no more cover her slain.

That sure sounds like zombies to me. Of course I'm not a Bible scholar and maybe there is something I'm missing about that exact passage. Maybe context would clear things up. Nevertheless, I do believe that men give themselves too much credit for coming up with ideas that really come from the Bible. Dragons, aliens, heavenly creatures, angels.... all of that stuff comes from the Bible. Like a friend of mine said in reference to the book of Ecclesiastes, "there's nothing new under the sun!"

My brother Channing made  a joke that those of us who are raptured and in heaven will have the controllers... just like X-box or Play Station. I don't think that's quite how it works, but it's an amusing concept. My brother Daniel was saying that he thinks that the news stations will try to cover up the rapture by calling it an alien invasion. But seriously.... where did people get the idea of aliens from anyways? Or the image you get of a aliens in their space ship in the clouds catching people up into the sky???  Hmmm... sounds like a take off of 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17. 

Anyways, that's my random thought for the day. I'm definitely going to read the whole book of Isaiah now!!

Puddle Recipe

Puddle
 
ingredients:
1 package of brownie mix
1/2 cup of vegetable oil
2 eggs
3 packages of chocolate instant pudding
6 cups of milk
1/2 tsp almond extract
1 12 oz cool whip
1 Hersey bar
 
directions:
1) make brownies according to package directions - let cool completely
2) make pudding according to package directions - set aside
3) fold almond extract into cool whip - set aside & keep cold
4) put chocolate bar in freezer
5) break brownies into pieces so in becomes crumbly
6) spread all brownies across bottom on serving dish
(you can use all brownies & pudding & cool whip on one layer and only have 3 thicker layers, like i did, or you may save half of each and have multiple thinner layers....)
7) spread all the pudding over the brownies
spread all the cool whip over the pudding
9) take chocolate bar out of the freezer and chop up with a knife
10) sprinkle chocolate over cool whip
11) keep cold!

Carrot Cake

Carrot Cake Recipe 

1 1/2 cups sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
3 eggs
2 cups all-purpose flour*
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3 cups shredded carrots (about 5 medium)
Heat oven to 350 degrees
Grease and flour rectangular pan. 13x9x2 in.
Mix Sugar, oil, and eggs in large bowl until blended;beat 1 minute
Stir in remaining ingredients except carrots; beat 1 minute
Stir in carrots
Pour into pan
Bake 35-45 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool on wire rack. Frost with cream cheese frosting.
*If using self-rising flour, omit baking soda and salt
Cream Cheese Frosting:
1 package (8oz) cream cheese,softened
1 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 cups powdered sugar
Beat cream cheese, milk and vanilla in medium bowl on low speed until smooth. Gradually beat in powdered sugar, 1 cup at a time, until smooth and of spreading consistency.

Blogaphobia

Here is a list of all of my favorite rarely updated blogs.
I'm posting them here so that I don't have to have a long list on the side. So this is a pretty boring post. Just sayin.... ;)

Josiah Jost
Mrs. Emmons
Christine
Norah
Isaac
Dan
Jim
Emily
Sandy
Kacey
Hannah
Stephan
Jennifer
Berean Girls
Mary Grace
Kevin
Eric
Charlene

Hello Blog!

You'll never believe it.... 
but I deleted my facebook account. After 6, almost 7 years I figured it was high time I had a change of scenery. It feels so good to not spend hours reading about what people ate for breakfast, look at "duck-face" pictures and be inundated by everybody-and-their-brother's view on life.
Refreshing.
One thing facebook subtracted from was my time for writing and blogging. Now that I have some free time I might do more writing on here. No promises of course, but we'll see what we can pull out of the hat. :)

Anyways, that's all for now.

"The Milk House: A manifesto on fire"

An article by Ryan Dennis

Thursday, 21 February 2013 15:45

"Several years ago, my friend brought me to her house in the suburbs. I can’t recall the rows of houses we passed to reach hers, only that it seemed indefinite because I couldn’t tell them apart. Her car navigated the streets like a mole through rows of corn, and even from the passenger seat I had a sense of the rectilinear arrangement around us. We pulled into her driveway and her family greeted me with handshakes and questions, leading me in a procession behind the house. My initial impression was that these are some great people. I looked around me, at the grass at my feet, and expanded my reaction: These are great people with a nice lawn. It was dark and unburdened by dandelions or tree debris. It was groomed, tidy and closely cut. Here, at my friend’s house, I imagined a suburban father loosening his tie after work in the office and circling the lawn with a Cub Cadet – worse, a John Deere lawn tractor – and making a point of calling it a lawn tractor. There comes a point when I’m not sure what I imagined, what my friend told me and what I remembered from prior conversations with other city people. Somewhere I heard that the quality of a lawn is a state of grace, that cutting grass on the weekend, even if it has barely grown, makes for relaxation. That the smell of cut grass gives them severe pleasure. I concede that the smell of grass is nice. But why does it bother me when it means so much to others? They brought me around the corner of the house where they told me there was a campfire. Without seeing it, campfire seemed like the wrong word for what was going to be a small, calculated pit in the corner of a manicured lawn. It is natural to compare every macaroni salad to the ones you grew up with. The curved, inlaid bricks around the fire were more stylized than the tractor rim at my family’s pond. They used fire-lighters and lit them under carefully teepeed blocks of wood they bought at a gas station. They stacked small twigs and called it kindling. They poked at it with concern. This is what I measured it against: broken-up slab wood, old two-by-fours and splits of locust we chunked up after milking and threw in a pile. “I am a master of the fire,” someone at the party told me. “I am too,” I didn’t say. “I dump diesel on it and drop a match.” It is my understanding that man was quite elated when he discovered fire. It changed his world. Yet, what he has done to it since, with his grooved bricks, seems terrible. It’s a condemnation on himself. It’s a violation of an old metaphor. Even fire, it seems, has been urbanized. My friends are good people, with a nice lawn, and they treated me well. I make the distinction between farmers and city people and talk about the latter in tones of judgment. I can’t find a better term for them than “city people.” I have no doubt that such prejudices originate in fear. The pressure of the urban lifestyle encroaching on agriculture is felt in many ways, but it is certainly felt. Residents of Buffalo and Rochester buy lots around our fields and slowly build cabins and garages. Hills that were quiet with narrow dirt roads now have steady traffic climb them. Every time another field gets a house or another farm disappears, even though I am already born and my childhood is in the past, it feels like one more chance that I might not have been born on a farm, and that I might have driven a lawn tractor instead of a real one. I might have talked about wholesome ways of living and not known the irony.  PD Dennis is the son of a dairy farmer from western New York and a literary writer. The Dennis family still dairies and maintains a 100-plus cow herd of Holsteins and Shorthorns." copied from Progressive Dairyman