The Bible promises that, for those born again, the Holy Spirit will reside in our hearts and begin to yield His fruit through us.  It's not always clear to me that His nurturing and pruning are, in fact, bearing fruit through my life.  So, I love those times when I'm tested and can look back on the episode with the peace and comfort of knowing that yes, He is indeed at work even in a wretch like me.

For instance, this morning one of the moms on a homeschool curriculum group I visit needed urgent help solving a math problem for her middle-school child.  Her question was, "What fraction is one-half of 1/4?"  She added that she has searched high and low and all of Google for the answer, but can't find confirmation that she is correct.

Well.  The old me would have posted a knee-jerk reply something like:  "OMG!   You need to put the pencil down and step away from the text books.  Run immediately to your ISD and enroll your kids while they still have a %#$@ @#$# chance of making it to adulthood with a couple of brain cells intact!" 

That was the old me. 

The new me deleted the temptation from my inbox and allowed one with greater grace and tact answer her question.

Of course, I'm still a work in progress.  I couldn't resist blogging about it.

I'm standing with a fresh, steamy cup of coffee, chatting with a new acquaintance.  "Can I get you some coffee?"

"No," she says, I don't drink caffiene.

"No coffee?  It's the nectar of God!  How do you get through the morning without coffee?"

"I'm Mormon," she smiles.

The good news is that I shut up before asking when she's due.  I'm not that dumb.

I have this quirk.  Okay, I have many quirks, but this one is my uncanny ability to bust our household budget by implementing money-saving ideas.  For example, there's that time I decided to make my own baby wipes and ended up spending more money on premium weight paper towels, baby wash and baby soap - and produced a batch of baby fresh pulp.  Then, there's the time I bought the $5 hair clippers so that I could cut our family's hair for "free," but wound up spending more money to have their hair fixed by a professional.  Oh, and the laundry soap.  Yep, homemade laundry soap that seemed to work great until I noticed our freshly laundered clothes were beginning to smell like my boys' gym socks.

But you know, as Thomas Edison put it, after many failed attempts at the light bulb, I haven't failed 1000 times, I've succeeded in finding 1000 ways it doesn't work.

Last summer I saw a program on the Planet Green network about how to save on your electric bill.  Many of the ideas required spending money on energy saving equipment, but one idea spoke to me:  wash the laundry in cold water, rather than warm or hot.

So, I decided to conduct an experiment and for a whole month washed everything in cold water.  I couldn't wait for the next month's electric bill and looked forward to it like a payday.

Only, there was no change.  So much for that idea.

A few months later my husband announced that we all need to take more care to turn lights out behind us.  I looked at him and said, "Oh, yeah, don't expect much."  Then, I explained my scientific study, relaying the data before and after as proof that little changes don't add up when it comes to electricity bills.

He smiled that smile of his.  "You're so cute."

"What?"  Of course, when he tells me I'm cute, I know I've done something stupid.  

"Cindy, we have a gas water heater."

Yep, I'm a frugal Savant, all right.  And that's Savant with a capital "I."

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I do encourage you women to stop procrastinating and schedule that mammogram.  So will I.  A few years back my cousin, Kelly, lost her several year battle with breast cancer.  She left behind a then 9 year-old son and a big hole in our hearts and lives.  Kelly was a born-again Christian, though, and I look forward to laughing with her in Heaven.

Even with such a serious concern as breast cancer, I can't help but get a giggle over some of the October events on the schedule in Austin.  One of which is a "Mammogram Mixer." 

Now, tell me that doesn't sound like a wild girls' night out!  What woman wouldn't look forward to spending a couple of hours sharing drinks, a buffet laden with antioxidants and the chance to have your "girls" squashed between two cold steel plates?  

At the risk of dating myself, do you remember that old SNL skit, back in the days of Jane Curtain and Gilda Radner, where alien women had evolved to having eyeballs instead of nipples?  That's the image in my mind when I think of a Mammogram Mixer.  "Hey, girls, allow me to introduce my girls." 

I'd better go register.  It's BYOB, that is, Bring Your Own Boobs; bras optional.