A huge dilemma. A lottery ticket worth several hundred million dollars is waiting for redemption. The dilemma? It was purchased at a porn shop. Personally, since it's not my ticket, I chuckle at the dilemma for the ticket holder. What to do?

I often, too often for those of my readers who have access to a DMS IV or later, think about how I would distribute several million dollars won in the lottery. Granted, one must first play the lottery to win the lottery but that aside, I can imagine what it might be like.

First, I would pay my taxes. It is the cost I owe to live in this country and although I am not always or often pleased with the way my taxes are used I pay them with some gratefulness for the freedom experienced in the good old USofA.

Then, I would replace the roof on the house. Oh it's not leaking or anything, just old. It's only a matter of time before it will need replacement so I would get a head start and get it done before tornado season.

I would pay for some college educations for some of my favorite people, including myself and then take them all on a trip, perhaps to Egypt or Indianapolis to see the Colts play. I would give a lot of it away, after all how much does one really need to live the 'good life?'

Or maybe, now that I think about it, I would simply put it in zip-lock baggies and stick it under the mattress, freeze it in ice trays or bury it in the backyard. You can't be too careful with money. Easy come, easy go.

Maybe I would charter a ship and sail the Mediterranean. No, too many pirates.

I would buy a lot of books but then I wouldn't have the time to read them. I would buy a pair of cool boots (I've always wanted a nice pair) and a diamond stud earrings (no, not those, too easily stolen).

Having money presents quite a few hazards. I would need a security system, several banks to hold the funds until I could spend them, body guards (what if someone tried to hold me for ransom?) and a car equipped with a bullet-proof body.

Geez! I think I have just talked myself out of even dreaming of winning the lottery. Good thing I don't play the lottery. And that's what I think about it.

He asked his girlfriend to marry him.

She said, "No!"

He attempted to run her down with his car, hitting two pedestrians, blowing out two tires and tearing up local landscaping.

He sits in the county jail charged with attempted murder, assault, destruction of public property, and really bad reaction to rejection (I made that last one up myself.)

And that's what I think about it.

A friend and I drove to Louisville Friday to see a performance of Madame Butterfly. Puccini set his creation in 1092 in the city of Nagasaki, Japan. The story is of an American lieutenant who marries a former geisha purchasing a home for her to live in while he is out on ship.

Madame Butterfly is 15 years old and very much in love. She renounces the religion of her ancestors to embrace the God of her husband. As a result she is rejected by her family. She is willing to give them up for the love of her life.

A clever law in Japan at the time gave husbands the prerogative monthly to either renew or let lapse the marriage bond. Madame Butterfly is blissfully unaware of this law. Her husband is very much aware.

After he sails, with the promise to return when the robins build their nests, Madame Butterfly waits for him to return. She does not wait passively. She waits with great passion...for three years.

Three years later he returns with his American wife to take his son. Madame Butterfly presents his three-year old son to him and with great anguish over his betrayal commits suicide.

This tragic story was beautifully complimented by a minimal stage set and full orchestra.

I can't say that I'm an opera lover or an opera appreciator...yet. But I can say that this performance was thrilling. Many years ago at my first opera...and there have been mighty few since...the audience followed the, in this case, Italian libretto (words) by reading them in the program. Besides a stiff neck from looking up at the stage and down at the program, one missed so much of the action happening on stage. Not so anymore. Conveniently located over the stage curtain, high above the action, is a screen showing the English translation. One does not have to take eyes from the action to follow the plot in one's native language.

The beautiful people of Louisville were in attendance. Glitz and glamor sat side by side with polyester and pants. Strapless gowns and wool suits; tuxes and sweaters. The beautiful people were sipping wine and 'being seen.' For sure they were being seen by me. I felt like an child being allowed to stay up late and come to the party.

And that's what I think about it.

Another ordinary day. A Saturday of football and soccer, art show and nail fill. Reading by the TV during commercials, keeping up with friends on Facebook and planning the rest of my life.

The plan begins with Madame Butterfly and a trip to Louisville to see this opera next weekend with a friend.

The plan continues with Thanksgiving Day dinner, counting chairs, configuring tables, visualizing serving dishes.

Anticipating a fun early December weekend at Winterfair in Columbus, OH with friends and former colleagues.

My mind jumps to Christmas with a shelf in the closet beginning to fill with gifts while other presents have been ordered to arrive in time for the holiday to addresses a distance away.

In between the big holidays are placed a six-week course I'm teaching titled "Me, Myself and Lies," a Monday night study, a Wednesday morning study.

Overarching all of this is the plan for the second week of January, ten textbooks for the course and papers to be generated from each. This part of the plan is always front and center of my mind.

I really love my life. And that's what I think about it.

There is no such thing as a free cat. These have been my husband's exact words more than once in our married life. The latest feline, Kat Karson, came to us from the local shelter. A big, social cat who liked to be near but not on people. He has lived with us for a year or more.

Two weeks ago we found him, unusual for him, starring fixedly at the bottom of the stove. Day after day he would lay and stare, unblinking and alert. Once a break in routine found him in the front hallway, fixedly staring at the closet door.

We assumed, but what did we know, that he had heard (cat's hearing is legendary) a mouse.

Sometimes he was so transfixed on the oven door that he wouldn't come when called for treats. That's when I knew he was on to something big.

Today the Great Cat Hunter captured a rodent.

The noise of both the mouse and the feline brought my husband out of his den to see what the ruckus was all about. In the hallway he discovered Kat Karson starring down and mewing at a mouse who was laying on his back scratching and pawing the air...I'll save you the description of his injuries. Kat Karson seemed to be waiting for the rodent to right himself from his Topsy-turvy position and continue the game they had started which apparently involved teeth, claws and internal injuries.

My husband took in the scene and sprang into action, picking up the injured animal (this is not an endangered species so no need to call animal control), taking him outside and tossing him over the back fence into the neighbor's wooded empty lot.

The family is very proud of Kat Karson. We are a cat family, but I do not remember an incident of any other cat having performed this feat. For Kat Karson's part, he is still wandering about the house, wondering what happened to his little playmate.

I, for one, am glad that I do not have to obsess, anymore, over the possibility of the rodent getting baked into Thanksgiving Dinner or my entering the kitchen to find tiny little foot prints through the icing on a cake or the corner chewed out of the oatmeal box in the cupboard.

No such thing as a free cat? They can be worth their Meow Mix in dead or disabled rodents.

And that's what I think about it.

This is a blog about fear.

The syllabus was received today for the class I will be taking in January. Ten texts (all ordered thanks to my husband), eight papers due the first day of class, one page of questions that I will develop for my classmates from the required reading and the preparation of an oral argument for or against whichever topic I am given by the professor. My stomach is in knots.

And that's all before I show up for the first day of class. Don't even get me started on what all is required after the week of face-to-face at the seminary. And only a month to finish the post-course work (I had one course where the students were given almost three months to get final papers in).

This course isn't even in my main area of interest although it probably should be since it is listed in the core curriculum.

It is also the hardest course in the curriculum and the one I have put off until most other courses have been checked off as completed. In my deepest thoughts I was hoping Jesus would return before I had to take this course. He didn't...return yet that is, although there are still two months to go until I drive up to the seminary for the week. It could happen.

Any day. Any minute. Any second. In the twinkling of an eye.

And that's what I think about it.

I've been thinking about the number of decisions we each make everyday.

To get up or not, to floss or not, to watch the news of the happenings in the world while we slept or not, greet the people and animals with whom we live or not, oatmeal or eggs....and on and on, and this is just in the first few seconds of the day.

All day, it never ends. Decisions, decisions. And the next day it all begins again.

Each decision infused with the power to change or direct lives, ours and others'.

Multiplied out, let's say six decisions in the first minute of the day, 60 minutes times 24 hours times 365 days...

Well that's just mind boggling, even with my limited math skills that is a mighty lot of decisions.
Somewhere over thirty one hundred thousand decisions a year

No wonder I get tired. You too? The only escape from decision-making is sleeping...after making the decision to nap.

And that's what I think about it.