"Serving Our Lord One Hotdog at a Time" is announced on the tee shirts of the volunteers handing out free lunch at the Christian Church of North Kansas City. The program was originally started to help the poor and homeless in this mostly industrial town but it wasn't long before the students at the local high school heard about free lunch on Wednesdays. Nothing brings kids running like free food.

Did the church chase them away telling them they were not the intended recipients of these free meals? No way! They took it all on. Their first week, in 2004, they served about 40 people. Now it they have more than 900 students each week ... and anyone else who walks in. With an active membership of about 250 they took on the cost of the annual $19,000 to cover it.

They have over 20 dedicated volunteers, mostly retired folk, who show up each week to dole out the hotdogs and a dose of love requiring only a bit of manners; the removal of their hats in the church and a thank you.

I graduated from NKC High over 30 years ago. The buildings were ancient even then and landlocked. I had gone to a modern high school the year before and found the old stone buildings beautiful and filled with character. The cafeteria just couldn't accomodate the number of students so, out of neccessity, we were given some freedom. We could leave the building at lunch time, on our own, and go wherever we wanted to go... so long as we didn't go in a car and we were back for our next class. We were heady with this freedom. There were no fast food places within walking distance and you really cut it close if you tried to eat at one of the few restaurants, so kids mostly just wandered, went to the park or the convenience store. There was nothing to do, no place to eat but we could leave... so we did.

I try to think back and imagine how wonderful it would have been to have a safe place to hang out for awhile and to feel welcomed and loved on top of that! I work in a Middle School now and I know for sure that most of the kids that are walking on the edge could be pulled back if they just had anyone who cared, someone who made them feel valued.

I heap my blessings on this church and its ministry of love. They started a program and it went in God's direction instead of the way they thought it would go. And they let it; they let God. They trusted and were servants and it grew. They took a chance. So many of us don't.

What is it Mother Teresa said? ~Something about preaching without preaching...

The line to vote was long but the church was warm and the line was moving quickly. I was finally near the front and I visited with the friendly lady checking our names at the table. She commented on what at sweet little boy my toddler was. Suddenly it was my turn and as I looked to the polling booth my mind quickly assessed what to do with my son while I was in there. Was it even legal to take him in with me? (I was young and stupid) The lady must have read my mind as she said “Go on. I’ll watch him.”

So, I guess that’s how it happens. You are young and hopeful and new to motherhood or tired in motherhood and you are weak or weary or confused and, for just a moment, you trust. You trust someone, or you trust society or you trust fate. For just a moment. That’s how kids get snatched or squashed or baked or broken or abused.

I hear those stories in the news of those children and those mothers and I hear the blaming tones of we who hear them, the accusing chants of neglect. “How could she let that happen?” …throwing the first stone.

It ended well for us. When I came out of the booth three minutes later CJ was gone. Gone. The nice lady was talking to someone else totally oblivious to the fact that CJ was gone. Gone. The word strikes fear into my heart still.

The line of voters was orderly and lined up against the wall. The room was empty of one very small blond boy. Where could he be? I called him and got nothing but dumb looks from the folks in line. I began searching but there wasn’t much to search so I headed down the line toward the door. He couldn’t have opened that big heavy door, couldn’t have even reached the handle. But where else? My heart pounded and I was panicky but not yet ready to let all these strangers know how stupid I was, so I willed myself calm. I opened the door and there he was. My adventurous child just standing there waiting for me patiently. He had wandered past 30 people and outside without anyone stopping him. It would have been impossible to have not noticed him and someone had held the door open for him! These people were not busy they were just standing there waiting in line!

I still get angry when I think about it all. I was angry at the “nice” lady, angry at those strangers who must have known a 2 year old walking down a long corridor and heading outside to the parking lot alone was not right. Mostly though, I was angry at myself. How could I have been so stupid? So careless with the most precious thing in my life? I was able to chalk it up to another very valuable and well-learned life lesson.

But I know that it could have ended differently so when the news hits of another child left in a car or a bathtub for just a second or not taken to the Dr. soon enough or wandering out of a home in his PJs in the middle of a frigid night or taken at the mall or the park … well, you know the list goes on. It happens and we know, if we are honest, it could have been us. My heart goes out.

“You can’t be too careful”. I have heard that said often but I think you can be too careful. We should be diligently cautious for sure. But, as in all things, balance is the key. We trust. Sometimes we must. Without trust there is no hope. Without hope there is no life. Balance.

I work in a school and I see the parents that are too careful. They do not love their children more than others do but they think they do. Their kids are sheltered and often weak and, well, helpless and will remain so. Or they’ll be embarrassed, frustrated or angry and hateful to those same parents who love them so much. They don’t understand their need to try (and possibly fail) in order to succeed and build their self-confidence. You can be too careful.

I learned that from a very small blond pig-headed boy who was fearless from day one. Sometimes I was careless for a moment, or he was… or fate was. He was in the hands of God and an arrogant surgeon at the age of 6 months. With a skull split open from hairline to the middle of the back of his head he learned to crawl in the hospital bed… with a big grim on his face. At age one he walked over to the slide and climbed to the top while I was picking beans. I looked up just in time to see him standing there, looking down, deciding if he could go without me to catch him at the bottom. Ha. He barely hesitated, slid down and landed on his very padded rump. Looked over at me to see if I had seen him and was proud. When he was two, he survived wandering down the middle of the road looking for his Daddy mowing out there while I napped. The list goes on right into the teen years (but I didn’t hear about those adventures until much later.)

I guess you’ve got to know your kid. Figure out how much rope they need. By age 10 he was dying to be left home alone now and then. He was ready. He was so ready to be on his own to college and I’m sure didn’t have one minute of homesickness. He was ready. We learned. He was fearless. He fell a lot. He got back up. The UnderToad tried to snatch him away from me more times than I’ll ever know and yet he is still with us today. And now, he’s gonna be a daddy himself in a few months.

So I’d say to him - Be cautious. Be watchful. Be aware. Be prepared. Be careful… but not too careful. Trust… but not too much. Balance. Let him live! Let him feel the joy of accomplishment that comes from effort and sometimes even pain. Trust God. Pray often and love always!

No, we did not forget to pay our phone bill.

Living out in the country has many benefits but the availability of access to high-speed internet is not among them. We could get it with satellite but our satellite service is none to dependable either so we've trudged along... soooo slooow! It has been a great source of frustration.

We recently went to mobile broadband for our internet service and it's working out great. The boys can use it for their laptops or we can plug it in to our dinosaur-of-a-computer for wireless internet service. It's quicker, too, but then... what isn't quicker than dial-up?! The cost is about what we were paying for our internet server before we switched, so by giving up our land line we will actually save money, too.

So... we think we have outgrown our land line and have had it disconnected. We were paying extra for the Kansas City line and also fees for long distance even though we never, ever used our land line for long distance calling. We really didn't use it much for anything except the internet... so now it's GONE. Feels weird not having a "real" phone but I'm told that is the trend and you know we are so very trendy. Now we just all have our own cell phones; five of them!

I admit I am "stupid about cell phones" as Beau says. I hardly ever use it and it is not usually charged because it goes dead between uses. I mostly forget I even have it except when Angus calls to ask where I am or Beau calls to tell me he'll be out late. Quite unlike the boys... who sleep with theirs cells on their pillows! Anyway, I'll try to change my casual habits and become just as cell phone-dependent as the rest of the gang.

One more change ~ When we first switched I sent everyone our new email address at Yahoo but CJ pointed out to us that if we use our Gmail account, they have a "pop server" available for free and we can just keep using Microsoft Outlook Express with it. Huh? We didn't have to transfer any addresses or anything; use the same address book, same set up. Just a different pop server!

Okay, I don't understand it either but it works. We don't have to go to the website and log in to get mail. It does it automatically whenever we are connected.

I am learning so much! I've been kicked right into the tech~generation!

It was one of those perfect Autumn days. The was day sunny and warm but there was a crispness in the air and a cool breeze. The sun had already dropped below the horizon but the sky was filled with soft colors as we stood for the national anthem at Beau's soccer game. The American flag waved gently against the peach sky as the soccer announcer began to sing. "Oh, say can you see, by the dawn's early light?.." His strong, heavenly voice melted into the beautiful scene before us.

I was taking it all in, feeling grateful we are fortunate enough to have such a beautiful voice lead us. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of children laughing. Perhaps it was coming from the playground of the school across the road and behind us. It grew louder and I realized it was the sound of honking geese... and then they flew into view. They flew in their V-formation, singing along with us, across the sky and toward the flag, through the pastel sky, above the silhouetted trees. It was an image that will stay with me forever.... a perfectly God-painted moment.

The soccer boys later made jokes about how the Chiefs get Blue Angel fly-bys at their games and we Canada Geese.

Ours was better. ☺

I have not left the face of the planet, at least not bodily. Lots of everyday craziness... jumping back into my job after loafing all summer, Beau's senior year soccer season, an opportunity to change positions at work and training my replacement while trying to get everything done that I normally do. Anyway, I never thought I would say this but, as we head into the Christmas season, things are winding DOWN for me and I am looking forward to Christmas just like when the boys were little!

Oh, yeah, and got the news that I am going to become a granny in May!!!

I am so fortunate to start my work day with a drive through three miles of desolate country roads. I am constantly being surprised by the simple beauty in this common everyday world. I think most people just see dust and weeds and trees that have grown too far over the road.

There's the isolated corner were people sometimes come to dump their old sofas and trash they don't want to pay to have hauled off. I guess that's pretty much what I notice on my way home, too. In fact a lot of times I'll even take the longer route going home just to avoid the gravel.

I am not sure why I am still surprised by the what I find around the curves and over the hills every morning. The landscape itself doesn't change; fields and woods, a creek crossing, a pond, an old abandoned house... and gravel. But the look of it is constantly changing.

In Autumn leaves change color gradually, deepening and finally dropping and leaving their lovely litter to pile and blow across the gravel. It is a new experience daily.

Winter days are often dull but the mornings are always frosted. That which I hate on my windshield is beautiful on branches, grass stems, seed pods and vines. There is nothing as lovely as ice on the fences and snow changes everything with its soft pure blanket covering the dust. Often the rising sun shines through the morning sky making the frost, ice or snow sparkle.

Spring is washed afresh with the rains and the gray turns green with bud and leaves. Piles of fluffy white wild flowers grow and reach out as I drive by changing to Black-eyed Susans and blue Chicory as Spring grows into summer.

There is often fog at any time of year and it is always magical as passing through a soft dream.

I see deer regularly but am always fascinated. Turkeys are also regular visitors, sometimes singly but usually in flocks. One time I startled a turkey who was starting to wander across the road as I came over a hill. He lifted his hulking body into the air and flew over the hood of my car and up into a tree on the other side of the road. I wondered if his heart stopped for that moment as mine did!

I have only touched the surface of the beauty I get to enjoy every day. I try to use my drive time to reflect on the blessings around me. I try to use it to put me in a place where I can pass that joy and contentment on later in the day. I usually forget it though... until the next day when I am once again reminded of God's gifts that surround us and we don't recognize them.

I am so thankful that he gives me another chance, every single day, no matter how badly I messed up the day before, no matter how much I disappointed him, he gives me a new start every morning. I think God has faith in me. Sometimes that's what keeps me going.

He has faith in you, too.

This is kind of a long story that I have needed to tell for awhile but just couldn't. Thank you to Shelly at Can I Borrow Your Life for nudging me.

In August of 2003 I lost my dear friend, Sandy, in a car crash. It was my first experience with a close, unexpected death. I took it hard. I dropped about 10 pounds in two weeks because I forgot to eat and wasn't hungry. My thoughts were consumed with Sandy and what she was and what the world, my world, would be like without her in it? Had I appreciated her enough? (no) Did she know I loved her? (yes) What would her kids do? (she had 4) What would her parents do? (she was their only) My mind just would not stop.

She worked right beside me every day. One evening her family came in and cleaned out her area without our knowing. I walked into our small office the following morning and it was such a shock to look over there and see nothing of her! I burst into sobbing and just turned around and went home without saying a word.

I really started thinking about the value of life and how we live it and how we should be living it. I thought about Sandy and how she was one of those people that wasn't very involved in her church and didn't go to church all the time and I really didn't know how deep her faith was. But she lived the way we ought to.

She was kind to everyone without exception, even those who didn't have her best interest at heart (like her Ex). She knew the name of every salesman or repairman that walked in, if not when he arrived then by the time he left. ...And how many kids he had and probably their names, too!

People she barely knew would stop by just to say hello to her and she was never too busy for them no matter how much she had on her plate. We joked about "Here comes your new best friend" when we saw some of them walking up to the door, but that's the thing... She treated everyone, and I mean it, everyone, as if they were her family.

Why couldn't I do that? Me, who professed to be a Christian (with far more involvement and spirituality than she). I knew she had it right by the Great Commandment and I was still struggling with it all.

Three weeks after Sandy's death Vince and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. We took a weekend getaway to Lawrence, Kansas. With all the thoughts of life and death and such I had also been reevaluating my marriage.

Vince and I are incredibly different in temperament and personality and even the way we think. We usually get to the same place but it often takes some negotiating. I decided it was worth it. It's kind of like that "Jerry McGuire" movie where he says "You complete me." I've heard people make wisecracks about that statement but it is why we are still hanging in there. When we do work together it can be amazing and wonderful. I wanted that to happen more.

While we were in the little college town that weekend, I got my tattoo. It was a plan, not spontaneous. I wanted a dragonfly rising from the water. I had designed the line of water with a "V" and an "S" gently curved into it. Whenever I looked at it I would be reminded that I love Vince and also to carry on Sandy's example for living.

A butterfly is too pretty and gentle for me. A dragonfly is born in the water and changes into a predatory flying insect. It is in the "good bug" category since it consumes huge numbers of nasty mosquitos. It is an amazing insect to me, to be so bold and tough and so full of life as it darts around the ponds ands fields. I am so not-prissy or gentle or beautiful (Is that why God gave me 4 sons?). I thought the dragonfly was a much better representation of who I am. No, I'm not a predator but I'll fight for what I believe in.

So, now you know the secret of my tattoo. Many people have asked why the tat and why the dragonfly but I never fill in the details. Now you know. (Shhhh~don't tell anyone.)

~~~~~~~~~

Okay, did any of you notice that my tattoo is not really a dragonfly? Most people think it is though and I wish it was so ... They told me it was a dragonfly and I was so excited and scared at the time that I didn't notice the antennae, which dragonflies do not have, and the wings are shaped wrong, too. Haha. A dragonfly that's not right. The jokes on me! I'm just pretending to know what's going on but in reality I am just skimming the surface. How just.

The tattoo is perfect for me.
~~~~~~~~~~

~P.S. Vince and I just hit #29 and still rollin'

I've been trying to "Let go and let God" because I didn't know what else to do! Yesterday I had a breakthrough (FINALLY!) and things will start getting back to normal. I'd love to tell you all about it but can't think of a way to do it without sounding whiny and self-pityish )OH, poor me) SO... suffice it to say that yesterday I was full, full, full to brimmin' with thanks to God all the way home from work. "Thank you God, Thank you God, Thank you God" The deadline had been fast approaching but I could not see a way to resolve anything. Don't know if he actually helped me through it all in any way except keeping me calm and sane and Ithat is what I most needed. For that I am so grateful!

More good news. When I got home I checked my email and had sold another book on Amazon! YEAH! If only I had realized how easy it is to buy and sell college text books at Amazon Marketplace I'd have done it years ago! I started last year and sold several at so much more than the pittance at which the schools will buy them back.

This year has been even better since Kevin decided to sell most of his Business books and they have been snapped right up.

Anyway, don't be afraid to try it. Contact me if you want to, and I'll help you out getting started but it really is easy and helps out with those ridiculous book expenses. Kev hardly cracks a book so they are mostly in great shape (now that's putting a positive spin on things, isn't it?) but even Zeke's books with highlighting have sold well.

Anyway, life is good and God is good, all the time.

Have you ever been so busy that your mind wakes up an hour before the 6 a.m. alarm every day and you hit the ground running, barely taking the time to breathe and definitely not smelling many roses?

What do you do?

I woke and the alarm clock glowed 5:22.... too early to get up. I almost rolled over and went back to sleep when I remembered the Perseid Meteor Shower. It was supposed to peak at 4:30 a.m. I thought maybe if I got up I could still catch a bit of it.

The debate in my mind, whether it was worth getting up for, actually awakened me so I did get up. I grabbed a blanket to lay on and stepped outside. It was still so humid but surprisingly cool so I grabbed another blanket to cover up with.

I laid down and gazed up at the darkened sky. There were some streaks of clouds and the sky had already lightened enough that not a lot of stars were visible, but I was comfy and it is always amazing to stare into the night sky so I stayed.

I stared into the sky and thought about all the zillions of stars up there. I knew there were also meteors out there whizzing past the earth, too. But I couldn’t see them. As many as 80 per hour at peak the newsperson had said. Even at half that I should be seeing some… and then I did.

It was so quick but it was there and I saw it. I thought what a beautiful miracle it was. I remembered the time Angus and I were young and had been driving home late one night from the city. We caught a meteor shower through the windshield and we hadn’t known it was going on so it caught us by surprise. Some were quick and short but others were bright and had long trails across the black sky. We delighted and pointed, “Oh! Look at that one! Did you see that one?“ It just kept on and on, one after the other. We were so amazed and grateful… but after awhile we just stopped paying attention, even as they continued to streak through the sky.

Isn’t that how it is with God’s wonderful miracles? Like the stars, they are out there all the time. Constantly surrounding us but not always visible. Most of the time we don’t even notice because we see them so often we don’t even think of them as miracles any more.

The mosquitoes were buzzing me by then. The first high-pitched singer started buzzing me soon after I’d laid down, so I had covered myself neck to toe with the blanket and waved it away if it came in too close. After I saw my “shooting star” I quit watching. I rolled over and covered my head, too.

I had seen a meteor and I thought I would just lay there and listen to the world awaken. The crickets made beautiful background music for my soprano mosquito. Soon an alto joined her and then another. I honestly did not know that mosquitoes sound different but these three definitely all had their own individual songs. I didn’t enjoy it though and I jumped up, grabbed the blankets (flinging my glasses somewhere beyond onto the lawn) and ran back into the house.

While I was crawling around in the grass feeling for my glasses, I thought about how distracted we get from all that God has to offer us… all of his plans for us, too. Or we just flat out ignore them because it is hot under the blanket and we don’t like what’s going on around us any way. So we split. Take the easy way and miss the opportunities. We wander around blindly until daylight comes and we see a glint in the grass and we can see again but only because we searched!

...Okay, I’ll quit. I just get like this sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not there yet...

Sometimes I think God gave us husbands so we will keep perspective in our lives.

This morning I read Swampwitch's post about being the mother of the bride and some of her personal horrors as she prepares for the wedding. This excerpt made me laugh out loud. This is she talking to her really empathetic husband:

"Can you see my zit?"
"Not if you put your hand over your nose or if I shut my eyes."

I love it.

Her drama with getting sick before the wedding and everything else that was not going right brought back my son's wedding to me. It was three yeats ago.

I needed a just-right dress. I thought it would be easy but I was oh-so-wrong! It was about a week before the wedding and I still didn't have it. Everything I could find was either spaghetti-strap prom, matronly or beaded/glittery. I am none of the above. Oh, yeah, and it had to be a color that at least didn't clash with the bridesmaids and the mother of the bride. AND it had to fit my weird skinny-limbs-broad-shoulders-big-butt figure. Where were other women finding those gorgeous dresses? I hate shopping for clothes anyway and I found myself shopping for hours on end.

That's bad... because when I shop and don't find what I want, well, I settle. I start seeing possibilities in things. I found a dress that I thought would do. It was a blue similar to the mother of the bride's dress, which she was making herself, by the way. It was big but it wasn't shiny or fancy, which neither am I. ...it had possibilities.

It was way too big, even for my backside, although fit pretty well at the shoulders. It just hung on me. Guess what? I bought it anyway. I decided my mom could alter it for me and she agreed to do it.

Kevin's girlfriend convinced me to go to her salon for my hair cut. She was also a "Colorist". I should have run. I have never colored my hair before other than highlights which I do myself. She said we needed to get rid of the gray (hey, it's in the back, I can't see it!) and "even it out a bit." (she didn't like my highlights!) She gave me a nice "caramel" color, a lighter shade than my natural color and add some lighter streaks. "Okay, you're the expert." ...famous last words. It came out blah, blah, blah, plain.

After a couple of hours of that, and it all cost more than my dress, I just wanted to get out of there! Shoe shopping time. I found a nice pair of pointy sling-backs and bought them. In the process I lost my credit card (or was it stolen?) which, being that I use it so seldom, I didn't notice 'til I got ready to pay for the kids' honeymoon suite several days later and it was gone. But someone had "found" it and had been on a little buying spree. The guy at the credit card company was gentle when he told me this but I just burst into tears anyway. He must be accustomed to this response because he comforted me and told me to take some deep breaths and that it would all be okay. (It was)

Two days before the wedding I woke up feeling kinda nauseous... the day my mom was going to take in and hem up my dress. When I got out of bed I literally could not walk, the room was spinning. I was sure I had some disease and was going to miss my firstborn's wedding. If I lay perfectly still I was fine but any movement left me nauseated and dizzy. The doctor squeezed me in and decided I had some kind of virus that messed with my inner ear. He got me some medicine and life was good again. But the day was wasted and my dress did not get altered.

Anyway, I had to keep it all in perspective, after all the wedding wasn't all about me. Angus said I looked "fine" which is guy-speak for "get over yourself". I doubted anyone would even notice me and I was so flippin' busy I didn't really give it much thought. Until the photos came back.

Here is a snapshot of boring me taken an hour before the wedding with the mother of the bride. Still in my flip-flops and see how my lipstick makes my lips disappear? I am a hopeless cause, I think.

The good news is - the bride was beautiful. My son was wonderful. The wedding was spiritual. The reception was fun and I fell in love with my husband all over again. Who cares that I was wearing a blue potato sack?

+++++

Phillipians 4:11 ~ Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.

The walking tunnel into







Cuyahoga Valley National Park:

It was hot and humid and the sky darkened while we walked, as if the skies would open up at any moment and drench us. It was then we came upon Icebox Cave.

No kidding.

I sat down by the seawall watching the sun rise. Angus and I had been at The Lake of the Ozarks for two days. Our hosts, my brother and sister-in-law had headed back home the evening before and we had the large lake house to ourselves for a few days.
I was content and happysitting in the quiet morning light, trying not to notice the hulking frame of concrete and steel rising off to the Southeast. We are on Ship’s Point. The point just to the East of this one… the one that this house faces, has always left us with a beautiful view of a lovely, grassy point with small trees… no house, no people, not even a dock.

The original house had burnt down over 40 years ago, leaving only the brick chimney standing, and nothing had ever been rebuilt. “Chimney Point”. Years ago the “For Sale” sign went up but the asking price was high so it remained the same year after year. Several years ago it finally sold. The rumor was condos. And sure enough we began to notice changes when we went down. A sea wall was built. Trees were bulldozed and the grasses scraped away. Construction began a building was erected. Now, this year, the condo is taking shape.

In only a few more minutes I knew that the clanking, groaning and grinding of the heavy equipment would break the silence. The banging and shouting of the workers would begin and last ‘til 4 pm when the construction crew would leave the giant steel skeleton behind as they crawl into their pickups weary from their hard work in the July heat.

I was drinking my coffee, watching the sun appear above the mist and later disappear into the clouds. Enjoying the peace and the solitude. Not wanting to think about the changes to this peaceful point once the condo is finished.

It occurred to me that it was Thursday and that Jetty Betty would be writing her “Thursday Thanksgivings” and finding wonderful things to be thankful for even in the midst of whatever turmoil and disappointment is in her life. She’d be looking at the good side of things. I started thinking about all the good in my life. I starting thinking about all the good times we’ve had down here over the last 29 years with friends and family.

Angus and I took long weekends in the incredible peace and solitude of the lake house in winter. Reading and watching the view and the rare speedboat pass by the picture windows. We cooked elaborate meals, ate slowly and did the dishes side by side. We were undisturbed by the temptations of TV and computers and telephones. The decisions were whether to put on Eric Clapton or Jimmie Spheeris as we sat by the fire in the evenings dreamily watching the flames and sipping a glass of wine.

We’d go to bed early and sleep late. And because it was The Lake House it was especially romantic… like a fancy secluded resort, yet as familiar as home.

When the kids were little we spent a Fourth of July watching the fireworks put on at the Four Seasons Resort across the Lake. We had a perfect view from our lawn chairs by the water and we didn’t even have to be a part of the flotilla of boats out there watching, too. The kids giggled as they drew golden circles in the black night with their sparklers and after the fireworks they watched to boats pull away one by one.

One year Angus’ family decided to have Thanksgiving at The Lake. We all sat together at the long Ponderosa-style table laughing and enjoying one another. No late arrivals or fast escapes... just acceptance.

The Lake is where I first really got to know Angus’ family. What’s to do but talk as you sunbathe and watch the kids, cooking and eating together? It’s where I first learned of the Mc’s “10 O’clock Rule“. The men would get up early to fish and do any yard work before the summer heat set in. They’d keep an eye on the time for at 10:00 a.m. it is okay to have your first beer of the day. I don’t know who made the rule; it preceded my entry into the family.

The boys floated in life jackets in the waves from the passing boats pretending they were in the ocean while we mamas laid in the sun on the rocking dock. They picked wild flowers along the gravel road. In later years they jumped off the roof of the dock into the deep water. They jet skied in the cove ‘til their legs ached. They’ve blown leaves with the powerful backpack leaf blowers onto a tarp to be pulled to the water’s edge and dumped, jumping into the ice cold water to cool off and to prove they were men.

They caught lightening bugs with their cousins who are grown now. They caught fish with their grandfather who is gone now.

Everything changes.

I contemplated the sunrise and my memories, feeling both happiness for the beautiful past and regret for what never will be again. The looming mass of condo reminded me that change is always coming and a lot of times it is out of our control, it‘s not what we want... But life goes on.

It made me value the “right now” a little bit more, appreciate the past a lot more and look forward to whatever happens next with hope. The unpredictability of life is what makes it both scary and fascinating. It makes us work harder, dream bigger and love better. It pops us out of our ruts and into the sunshine or into the mud.

This day, I’m in the sunshine and will take advantage of today. I know the mud is there waiting to pull me down so I’ll look up… trust God to get me through it when the time comes.

Life is good… and I believe that with all my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Life will bring you pain all by itself. Your responsibility is to create joy.”
~Milton Erickson, M.D.

It's so good to be back. While Angus was on vacation we took several days at The Lake ( around here that means Ozarks) and then traveled to my Family Reunion in Michigan, taking a slow journey. The drive home was straight through, 12 hours, arriving home around midnight. I wish all of you could have the sweet kind of homecoming that I had.

I was so weary from sitting in the car. I am a fidgety person and I have Restless Leg Syndrome, too. (I am not sure if the two are related.) It is impossible for me to sit still for very long. When I was a kid in church my grandmother was constantly reaching over to gently lay her hand on my knees... the signal to stop swinging my feet. I tried.

In the car I sit most often with my feet up on the dash board or crosslegged in the seat, sometimes stretching my short legs out straight on the floor, changing positions after a few minutes. My husband is used to this and can even tell when it is time for me to stop and take a walk.

Anyway, for me, it's all about the destination and when the destination is "home" I can't be there soon enough. Finally, we made it. The lights of the house were on and there were three college-girl friends of ours watching a movie while waiting for us. They jumped up and welcomed us with long hugs. The house smelled of baking and cinnamon and was shiny clean!

Last Thursday, five of the girls had come over and did a load of laundry, picked up after Kevin who had just left for The Lake, vacuumed, scrubbed the kitchen floor, and cleaned the oven (I don't think I'd ever done that). The day we arrived home they baked while they waited for us to return... Choco-chip Cookies, Dump Cake and Cinnamon Bread ( still warm).

Oh, to be loved like that! It felt so good!

Around here we have a pretty-much have an "Open House" policy all the time. Anyone is welcome anytime... as long as they can stand not being treated like company. The teens and young adults stop by often even though we live way out in the country. It's a place they can get away to. We don't have a huge house and many times I go up to my room early so I won't have to watch/listen to whatever inane movie they have on.

I don't know why they come other than that they can. On Sunday, around midnight, I was so glad they had.
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Thank you Jessica, Brook, Courtney, Danielle, and Sara! I love you.

The thirty year mustache came off this week! When I met Angus in college he had a full beard. Every autumn he and his 3 brothers grew their beards, every spring they shaved them off. He continued that tradition until he started working for UPS. Their drivers aren’t allowed to have beards. But the mustache always stayed.

Last week he shaved it off. I have no idea why he did. Funny though that I didn’t even notice it when he first came downstairs afterwards. I was busy in the kitchen and we talked a minute and I wasn’t really noticing him. A few minutes later we sat down together and I DID notice. I took a huge inhaled breath, totally shocked, and he just grinned.

The boys flomped into the house Saturday, after a week of counseling at church camp and they were full of fun and stories. I listened with joy as they unpacked and talked, then I suggested they go find their Dad and let him know they were home.

A few minutes later I heard hysterical laughing coming from upstairs. I wondered what was so funny. Down the stairs they tumbled, barely able to speak for their red-faced laughter. “Hey, Mom. Uncle Mike is upstairs!” I’d gotten somewhat used to seeing Angus without the ‘stache and had forgotten that the boys hadn’t seen it yet. They took one look at him and burst into laughter. He does look more like his brother Mike, now, than himself.

I’m a bunny killer. Last week when I was weeding in the asparagus I startled a baby bunny. I thought how bold that wascally wabbit mama was to nest right smack in my garden but I just kept pulling the tall grass and didn’t give them another thought. My garden is big enough that I can share. The deer are also frequent unwanted visitors volunteering to prune the tops of my tomato plants and beans.

A few days later when I was mowing in the paths between my raised beds it happened. I heard a big thud and knew I’d run over something, a dirt clod maybe? Until I saw the chunks of …well, I’ll spare the details. I instantly stopped the mower and went in the house. I went to the sink and got a drink of water and told Zeke what had happened.

Here’s the bad part. I made him go out and clean it up. He didn’t want to and we argued. I said it would gross me out and he said it would gross him out, too. I told him I just couldn’t do it and he said neither could he. I told him I knew he could and then, well, I basically guilted him into it. I didn’t say it, but I implied that this kind of task is one of those things that men must do for women. He said he was going to throw up… but he did it anyway. …I’m so ashamed.

Today when I was mowing again, I replayed this horrible scene in my mind again. I don’t think it was the hunks of bunny remains that I couldn’t deal with but the guilt of having done it that made me feel that I just could not go back out in my garden that day.

I let my stupid guilt over the killing, even this purely accidental thing, rule my behavior in the way I treated my son. It’s not that it hurt him to clean up the mess (nor would it have hurt me). I was selfish and threw away my values there for a minute. That scares me. I teach my sons about equality and that guys must carry their household load, too, and that women work in the world now and can do man-stuff, too. Then I revert to the weaker sex when it is easier to do so. It was one of those hypocritical, do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do kind of things.

Guilt.

I hate it and I‘m not one that has much use for guilt generally. I let things go pretty easily …forgive myself and others, too, because I know God does. We are who we are. But now I’m thinking guilt can be a useful tool for change, can’t it? I learned a lesson here and it won’t happen again. Sometimes I think that is what life is about. The lessons.

We know a guy who took his own pins out. Zeke told me this as he was waiting for the surgery to have his taken out. The surgery took about a half an hour, although the waiting before hand was closer to an hour. He still has to wear the brace but is supposed to try to start moving his fingers and turning his wrist a bit.

He was at church camp all week, disappointed that he still couldn’t play the guitar but happy to in the process of winding this all up. The pix is Zeke pretending he was dead while being extremely bored waiting for the surgery. His way of keeping things light.

He and Beau returned yesterday giddy with the good experiences they’d had at Camp. It was wonderful to see them laughing and joking together. I had missed them …and also enjoyed them gone and glad to have them both back. Beau had only been home an hour from the Sonshine Fest before he had to leave for Camp Galilee so I hadn’t seen him for awhile.

One of the girls at Sonshine had dyed his hair red. Lordy! Photo is Beau before the hair went red. He and his buddies bought Spiderman suits at the local WalMart up there. Of course, they are child sizes so they were scrunched into them. They wore them to one of the concerts and as they were walking up to the venue a big guy spotted them and lifted Beau above his head, “Hey, Spiderman is here! Send him to the front!” then the crowd bodysurfed him right to the very front! They did the same to his buddy. He said it was AWESOME.

Zeke turned 21 today. He also got his cast off. It was a real gift but not as good a one as he'd hoped. They took the cast off and x-rayed the hand and the put a brace back on. He still can't move the dang thing... still no guitar playing. The brace limits as much as the cast did! (see the smiley face drawn on his fingers? he's been bored.)

He's handling the disappointment well. He has definitely learned patience and an appreciation for things taken for granted before. He'll have surgery tomorrow to get the pins out... thanks to a nurse who finagled an appointment at he Surgery Center because Zeke will be out of town next week and she didn't want him to have to wait another week.

We took him out to lunch on the way home. Not much of a birthday celebration. Most of his friends and his brother, Beau, are at the Sonshine Festival in Minnesota. He didn't go because of his appointment with the surgeon.

A couple of friends did stop by to wish him Happy Birthday this evening... just in time for birthday cheesecake!

Zeke stepped out of the house and called me out of the garden, holding the phone towards me. I stood up and asked “Does Beau need to go to the Emergency Room?“ I was joking... but Zeke paused and said ”…maybe.”

Working the Fireworks tent is like hosting a 3 week party. Beau and Zeke both worked it this year. Zeke stayed nights and days the first few days after the fireworks were delivered since both Beau and Ex were at church camp that week.

Beau was hired for days this summer. His friend, Ex, had the night gig but his mom put the big NIX on that. She didn’t want him staying there alone all night. I'd had similar concerns last year when Beau had the night shift but had let him do it. (Turned out he was seldom there alone anyway.) So Beau ended up staying, too, and they split the cash.

When there were no customers there was plenty of video games, movies, and the wireless internet from Carol’s house reached the tent so they could do that, too. Friends stopped by at all hours, often bringing them pizza or cookies. It became the local hang out. The kids are allowed to shoot off fireworks to see what they look like so they can tell the customers and if a customer asks about something they don’t know, they can just walk out back and give one a try for the customer to witness! A boy’s dream job… friends, games, food and explosives.

Fireworks are lucrative, as well. Carol’s only job is running the tent on the corner of their property and she makes enough for spending money for the whole year! There were no storms this year but in year’s past the tent’s blown down and all the fireworks got wet. The truck comes the next day, hauls off all fireworks and delivers dry stuff. They still make an incredible profit. Carol also gives the kids lots of free fireworks so they put on a lovely display here at our house every year.

They have a dirt bike, too. When there are no customers the kids take turns with it. Beau watched Hayden give it a go then took his turn. He had never been on a dirt bike before but, hey, looked like a blast. He rode off on the same route as his friend had but thought he was headed into the neighbor’s property so changed direction... but there was a tree ahead so he for sure did not want to hit that so veered to go between the tree and the privacy fence that separated their yard from the rest of the property. Only he didn’t quite make the turn. Somehow he slid right through the wooden fence! Luckily he wasn’t seriously injured and he had worn a helmet. He had a huge strawberry on his shoulder, a bruise on his thigh, but his pinkie finger was bleeding like crazy.

There were no adults around at the time so it was teen decision making time. They got the bleeding to stop but then did it need stitches? Hmmm? He called a friend’s mom who is studying to be a nurse (an LPN) but she wasn’t home. He called his friend, Brook, who kinda might want to be a doctor some day and she said, sure, come on over and I’ll look at it. He drove over there, she looked at it but didn’t know so they called the ER doctor that lives next to her. He looked at it and said , “Sheesh, YES, it needs stitches!” (a cellphone photo I saw later confirmed it.) He put in 6 and let Brook put in the last one. Seven stitches and they were oh-so-proud!

I got the phone call between Doc telling them he’d need stitches and then putting them in. As a mother of sons I’m always prepared for that phone call that may come saying he did something really stupid and the fear is always a bit deeper in July when fireworks abound in this rural community. Things get blown up… deer carcasses, sparkler bombs, stuffed animals, snapper bombs, bicycles, toma