Small town

"Well I was born in a small town,
And I can breathe in a small town.
Gonna die in this small town,
And that's prob'ly where they'll bury me."  (Small Town, John Mellencamp)

I absolutely love my town.  I love this time of year here.  I would say that fair week and homecoming are the best weeks of the year for the active locals.  Tomorrow will kick off homecoming week, "Out with the Old, In with the New."  Things have changed a little here in the 'Ville, as Jay's cousin calls it.  This year we will begin homecoming with an alumni volleyball tournament, alumni football game, bonfire and coronation tomorrow.  The Student Council is having a lunch at noon; our church youth group is having a breakfast at the Fire House in the morning.  Things are gonna be busy.

Next week the high school girls volleyball team will be in the conference tournament so the traditional coronation and pep rally and bonfire were moved up a little.  I think they still have the school pep rally on Thursday at 2:00.  (Wish I could go to that...I hear some characters from the past are making an appearance!)  Friday there is no school, which I think is the pits, it kills part of the excitement, but the parade will be at 3:00 like it has been ever since I can remember.  The dedication of our beautiful new school building will begin at 5:30 in the new gym and there will be a Booster Club sponsored tailgate immediately following that ceremony in what I call the teacher's parking lot.  Kickoff for the Bluestreaks Homecoming Football game is 7:00 p.m. on Friday night. 

I am proud to say that I am from Martinsville.  I am equally proud to say that I am a Bluestreak.  I am so thankful that Jay and I are able to raise our children here and provide for them with fairly local jobs.  I know that is not always possible and you have to be practical about things like that.  My plan, which I guess I should realize by now really isn't my own, is to live and die as a resident of Martinsville.  I want what's best for my children and their families in the future, but unless they move to some really beautiful place I like to visit regularly, I would be tickled if they stayed here too.

I have no regrets, no shame in what or who I've become, or that I'm still here in this little 'ole town.  It is my home here on earth and there's no place I'd rather be.   I love that I'm looking forward to tomorrow and next week and the excitement it brings to town.  I already cannot wait for next year's fair.  That has to be the highlight of the summer.  As it is with many places and their traditions, people plan their vacations around the Martinsville Ag Fair. 

I know there are lots of towns just like mine all over, and I'm thankful  that ours has remained a small, rural community.  I know that I would support whatever school my kids were in and whatever the name of it might be.  I suppose I would even wear purple if I had to.  But I can't say I'm terribly upset that the flood ruined our old and unique high school.  It truly saved our school, our small town and the tradition that will continue with the one and only Bluestreaks.

See You at the Pole

"For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them.”  Matthew 18:20 (NKJV)

Yesterday was "See You at the Pole" and I decided late the night before that I wanted to go.  I don't think I've ever been, can't remember if we had it when I was in high school or not.  Amazingly enough, I got the kids ready and loaded up in time to catch it. 

Honestly, I was a little hesitant, would anyone else be there, would they wonder why I was coming, would I make a fool of myself?  The answer is, yes, others were there; maybe, they wondered why I was; and fortunately, I didn't make a fool of myself.  My kids didn't want to get out of the car and I decided not to force them, but right before we started the prayer, Madolyn jumped out and ran over.  I was tickled.

There were approximately 20-22 people there if I counted right in my head.  I think there were ten teachers plus myself and the rest were students.  I'm sure that several teachers or students forgot, were running late or maybe were a little hesitant as I was.  I'm glad I went.  It was lead by a senior from the high school.  He is one of those kids that is likeable, a good athelete, good student and a Christian.  What more could you want?!  He told about the history of See You at the Pole, that it began in 1990 and it has continued to grow.  We gathered hands, he started the prayer and we went around the circle.  Donuts were offered to the students...it was over.  (A big thank you to the teachers who came out...I hope your day went well.  You are making a difference!!)

Madolyn and I got in the car.  I told her I was glad she had decided to get out.  She said she was too, that she couldn't make up her mind and finally just went for it.  Good deal, girl.  We talked that next year we would try to recruit others and double the crowd.  I'm trying very hard to follow through with things I say I'll do...will you remind me a year from now, preferably sooner than the night before, that I want to recruit kids to pray at the pole?  Seriously, anyone?  You come too.  Even though it was dreary out, I couldn't think of a better way to start the day!

My toothless knocked-up friend...

Madolyn and her friend were digging around in my mountain of pictures and found a picture of my friend I call "Beth" and a picture from New Year's Eve 2008/2009.  It is one of those pictures that just captures a moment, you know.

A bunch of us get together every New Year's Eve with our kiddos and hit Monical's in Robinson for pizza and then go back home and play games.  That particular New Year's Eve my friend "Beth" was pregnant, about 8 months pregnant so it was pretty obvious.  She had been having issues with her front fake tooth and had been visiting the dentist trying to get it resolved and get something in there permanent.  Whatever she'd had in there since grade school was not holding, but the dentist had a plan and she had a tooth in place until the permanent could be installed.

We ate our salad, got our pizza and started chowing down.  "Beth" and her husband were sitting right across from Jay and I, but there were a bunch of us there surrounding her.  Monical's was packed with other customers.  Suddenly, "Beth" got that look on her face like 'uh-oh' and I saw it...her temporary tooth had not only come loose, it was gone.  Now, I am telling you, I know that she's my good friend and I should be her best supporter, but it was one of the funniest things I had ever seen...Her big smile with that humongous black void was just hysterical.  Jay and I started laughing and simply could not stop.  The others were cracking up too...we were mean, I know, but it was absolutely priceless. 

She was a fifth grade teacher and they would be going back to school in a couple of days.  What was she supposed to do until then?!  I can only imagine the kind of grief she would receive from a bunch of ten-year-olds.  "Beth" then made her husband call her dentist at home on New Year's Eve, he was hosting his own NYE bash...I can only imagine what was going through his mind!  Basically, he told her too bad, I'll see you in the office next business day (which was a few days away).  Just make do the rest of the weekend.

Jay and I were not very good examples that night in front of our kids.  It was so dern funny...I took that picture of her when we got back to her house.  Poor "Beth" every time she would open her mouth, someone would bust up.  My face hurt from laughing so hard that evening.  I'm glad she's the kind that can take it because we sure dished it out at her expense.  It was a memorable New Year's Eve and now that picture is in my car for some reason, which makes me laugh daily.  My toothless knocked-up friend...Good times...

Oops

When Madolyn was maybe two or three years old, Jay got a new truck.  He was so excited about this 'new' truck because he had had the same little truck for years and really wanted a bigger and little newer style.  He searched around, found what he thought was a good deal and brought it home.

It was nice, leather, had a topper, was an extended-cab with the back seat.  Everything he had always wanted.  I was excited for him.  I remember being outside, all three of us, admiring the new truck and looking at every feature.  Jay had a smile a mile-wide on his face.  It was getting late and time to head in the house for the night.  I offered to pull it in the garage, I was just dying to drive it.  He said okay, but please be careful.  Yes, Jay, I know, geesh.

So I crawl up in the driver's seat, Madolyn is standing behind me in the back seat and I start to pull in the garage.  Our garage is a two-car garage with one big door.  Until a couple weeks ago, it was crammed full of all kinds of stuff too...so it was a very tight fit.  But there was no way his new truck was going to stay out in the weather all night.  So we go...

Jay is standing in the front of the garage where I will be pulling in giving me the hand signals and directions.  I'm kinda blowing him off because, duh, I've been driving for years, I can pull a vehicle into a garage, even if it is a tight squeeze.  As I pull in, he orders me to back out and straighten up a little before coming in much further.  So I put it in reverse and back out...without thinking about that side mirror on the passenger side and the possible contact it could make with the far side of the garage...

I heard the awful, terrible sound of the metal hitting metal and then I hear the even worse sound of Jay screaming bloody murder at me...which then causes Madolyn to start crying and she yells, "You've killed my daddy, haven't you?"  Yes, it was that bad.  Jay was completely distraught.  Within two hours of bringing home his dream truck, I had ripped the side mirror right off the passenger door...Eventually I think he forgave me, and it could've been worse, I really could have run over him...

The Great Debate

By faith we understand that the entire universe was formed at God’s command, that what we now see did not come from anything that can be seen.  Heb.11:3 (NLT)

Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.  Ecc. 11:5 (NLT)

I have had this little speech prepared in my head for sometime now.  I keep waiting for the opportunity to try it out and haven't had one.  You guys are my guinea pigs.  You'll have to point out my flaws and make suggestions on The Great Debate.  This is my argument to a non-believer.

So what if I'm wrong about all of this God/Jesus/Heaven/Hell stuff?  Let's see, what have I given up? I suppose I have wasted years on treating others as I would want to be treated, honoring my mother and father and loving my spouse, my children and others, trying to live my life in an honorable way with integrity and deciding to follow the laws that our government has enacted and of those mentioned in the bible to the best of my ability.  Although I am not perfect, these are the things I do strive for.  I hope that I'm raising my children to have good moral values, to treat others well, to obey the laws of the land as well as those in the bible (because they make sense and only bring about good).

You say I've wasted all this time at church functions.  I say, yeah, maybe so.  And what did that cost me?  I have an extended family of people that I love, people that I can count on for support, comfort, encouragement.  I have spent this 'wasted' time surrounded by others I enjoy being with, having a fun time at various functions, eating good meals, laughing, crying, sharing.  My kids have made friendships with kids at church and church camp that they will have for a lifetime.  Memories created at these church functions will last a lifetime.  I have to do something with my time.  Why not spend it with people that I love and care for and have a good time with?

All the money you've given to your church, wouldn't you love to have that back?  Nope, I get it back, two-fold.  Basically I'm giving to my church and my church family for the whole package.  I enjoy going to that building and socializing with those people.  I'm glad that there is a place we can go every week without fail, they are always open, they are always serving and they are always welcoming us.  It is our home away from home.  It is our entertainment.  And if you want to get straight to the point of someone only thinking of money, it is a tax write-off...so there.

I believe there are two different kinds of non-Christians.  One is by choice and the other is from good ole plain ignorance.  The group that is by choice is what I would refer to as an Atheist, someone who makes the conscious effort to proclaim they do not believe in God.  The other group is one that I have more leniency for, although I don't know that I should, but I do.  Maybe they just haven't been exposed to the right situations and witnesses that others have.  Maybe they live in a country where it is illegal to talk about Christianity and Jesus Christ and truthfully have never been told about Jesus.  My intolerance is more with the first group, the one that makes the point of not believing.  I do not understand this.  I do not understand how you explain creation, plain and simple.

My daughter told me last night that their youth group lesson was on creation.  She said that there are a group of people out there who claim we derive from fish.  If this were so, we would have more characteristics of a fish, wouldn't we?   Like breathing under water, as pointed out in their discussion.  Yes, that does not make sense.  The Big Bang, what a Big Bunch of Bolgona.  Again, how does that add up?  It just does not.  And hey, I'm not a monkey either.  Although I may be a little hairy, I do not have a tail and never did.

It is beyond my understanding that someone who has experienced the birth of a child, whether it is from a parent's standpoint or otherwise, does not believe in our Almighty God.  Tell me how all of that comes about, how a child is created inside a human and all the parts come together and work like they're supposed to (most of the time) if our creator is not a part of it.  If you stop and think about it, there are just so many different pieces of the puzzle that have to come together, it is mind-boggling it ever does work.  I remember my doctor telling me there are more miscarriages than people even realize because they happen so early on in the process and everything has to line up just right for it to take.  Some people never even realize they've had one.

One of Louie Giglio's videos from the Passion series has an excerpt in it where he talks about the fact that a baby's eyes are just a solid piece of skin inside the womb until one point during the pregnancy, at just the right moment, a perfect slit is cut across where the eye is and the eye lids are created.  Is that not one of the most amazing and incredible things you have ever heard?  I remember watching that, rewinding it and watching it again.  I had never heard that before.  Awesome.  Powerful.  Unexplainable unless you believe in God.  If you're curious, google it, I think it is from his Indescribable video in the Passion series.  That whole group of videos is amazing and Louie will have you so fired up, you'll be wanting to shout from a mountain top.  He has a bunch of different examples of creation and our master creator.

I guess because I grew up in a Christian family, I just don't get it.  I don't know anything different.  God was and is and always will be.  There is no other explanation that I need to hear.  I take it for granted that it's that simple because I just cannot imagine anything different.  Maybe I wouldn't be the right person to have this conversation with.  Maybe these conversations are best left for someone who became a believer later in life.  Maybe it's just better for someone with more knowledge of the Bible because I don't have a lot of that.  Hhmm, now that I think about it maybe this is why I haven't had the Great Debate yet...

Precious

That is the word we keep using when we refer to our Hank the Tank II, 10-week-old Lab puppy.  He is just that, precious, but a few other words have been coming to mind too.  Ornery, mischievous, incorrigible, pestering, lazy, adorable, I could go on and on.

To date he has chewed through my laptop computer cord, Jay's i-Pod cord and a shoe.  He has made a hole in one pair of Madolyn's good jeans, the bathroom rug and his very plush crate pad...which then leads to lots and lots of stuffing all over the floor.  He has discovered that corners are nice to gnaw on as well as door stops.  He is relentless when it comes to repeating a pattern of behavior.  He chews on something, I take it away, he finds it, drags it back out and the process is repeated.

This morning as he was trying to drag his crate pad out, I was yelling at him from the kitchen a very stern NO and he would stop, look at me for a moment and begin again.  Finally, I gave up.  We pretty much have to take the crate pad out and put it on top of the crate or it will be in the middle of the living room floor and again there will be stuffing everywhere.

I also noticed this morning that somehow, while I was in the shower or bathroom and everyone else was still asleep, he grabbed Lane's school library book off the chair and ate the binding off of it.  So goes a note to school with a check to pay for it.  I must say the book was terrible.  Very difficult to read and/or understand.  I'm kinda hoping they toss it...and that Lane doesn't take an AR test on it.  I told Jay that maybe Hank II did the kids of MES a favor.

Here is a funny from last week.  Jay had to run to St. Louis to pick up a horse so he took Hank the Tank II with him.  They get down there and Jay rolls down the window of his truck, leaves Hank in there and goes to the barn.  He is only going to grab a horse, load it up and head back.  A man comes in the barn and asks who owns the blue Ford...because there is a small puppy sitting on the hood barking at all the horses that go by.  HYSTERICAL...I bet that was absolutely...precious.  On the way home is when the little mishap with the i-Pod cord occurred...I wasn't happy but felt like we were even...I lost my computer cord, he lost his i-Pod cord.  Thank you, Hank, for keeping us on a level playing field.

Last Saturday night, I had just set up our little spot in the end zone for the football field and I got back in the car for a second and left Hank out unleashed with Madolyn's friend who is on crutches.  I hear her yell for me and look...there is the precious Hank the Tank II on the 15 yard line with the boys from the opposing team doing their stretches.  Wonderful.  I ran out to get him, they were petting him and the coach was cracking up.  I told them we were trying to psych them out.  (It didn't work.)

He has learned that if he sits all cute and pretty when he comes in from a bathroom trek, he will get a "cookie" aka dog treat which his predecessor, Hank the Tank I, picked up on fairly quickly as well.  Fortunately for us, as ornery as he is, he is still a very well-behaved fat puppy.  He makes me want to pull my hair out every now and then, but I still love the little fella.  He is just so precious...

The Spanish Trip

The other day I discovered my trip diary from our Spanish Trip in High School, April of 1992.  Holy Cow.  Reading it has been cracking me up....mostly because I can't believe I ever acted that way and as I am reading it, I am hearing my daughter, Madolyn's voice.  Oh My Gosh, I WAS HER and SHE is ME.  My poor mother.

We were/are lucky enough that our High School believes in the Language Trip.  Every other year the Language classes take a trip to either Spain or France.  The year I went it was to Spain.  We hit Morocco, Madrid, Seville, Toledo and maybe other places I can't recall.  Seville was hosting the World's Fair that year.  I don't believe it had opened up, but they were building and setting up everything.  We didn't visit the site, but we could see it.  It was huge...nothing compared to our local fairs.  We went over Easter break and there was quite the hoopla in Madrid.  I remember there was a parade where men wore black hoods and robes and marched the streets with a cross celebrating the resurrection.  I know it was supposed to be very spiritual, but honestly it was spooky.  I have written that it reminded me of the KKK in black.  Ugh.

I think the most memorable visit was to Africa.  We rode a ferry over the Gibraltar Strait.  I got seasick and slept.  When we got over there, we had our pictures taken with a large Boa or Cobra snake around our necks and we rode the camels.  People were trying to sell us stuff from every angle, grabbing at our arms.  We bartered with them and got "good deals" or so we assumed.  I have written down that Kim bought a bracelet for $1 through the bus window.  It was a fun day.  I can just picture the crystal clear bright blue water over there.  It was the most beautiful water I have ever seen.

It is so strange that a lot of the things I have written down, I have no recollection of.  The things I do recall aren't written down.  Funny to see what I thought worthy of writing about 20 years ago versus now.  It's hilarious to read.  "We got kicked out of BK (Burger King) for playing cards."  "Brandi passed out in cathedral." "Kim threw my shirt out the window." "We found a McDonalds and KFC but I wasn't hungry, darn."  "The bus driver is crazy, he tried to pass on this curve."  "I took a bunch of pictures, but I have no idea what they're of."  Oh too funny, I had forgotten about that little camera.  It used real rolls of film and the flash was that cube thing you stuck on top!!  It was my mom's old camera, the Kodak Electrolite.  Everyone made fun of it, but it held strong.  When all the others broke or got jammed with sand, the Electrolite clicked on.  I remember holding it up in the air and snapping photos left and right.  I bet they were dandy's too.

On our flight home, one of the four engines went out.  I will never forget that pilot's announcement: "Folks, if you haven't noticed, the sun is on the wrong side of the plane..."  He lost me.  No, I hadn't noticed the sun.  But the gist of it was we had to return to Madrid.  We had already been in the air five hours. That was pretty memorable.  Several passengers started crying...I was furious.  I was ready to get home.  I was terribly homesick.  The airport put us up in a hotel, fed us a steak dinner and flew us out the next morning.

It was the trip of a lifetime.  I'm so thankful to my parents for allowing and making it possible for me to go.  It was not cheap and I know they had to sacrifice to send me there.   My diary says that I had $3.25 on what should've been our last day...I recall actually coming home with about a quarter in my pocket.  As I flip through this little book, I see that I have written every purchase and the amount...does that sound like my Grandpa Lynch or what?!  Oh My Goodness.  No surprise here, I ran out of room writing in the trip diary, ha, I have squeezed in writing wherever there was a blank area.  It is jumbled and kinda hard to read, sorta reminds me of someone I know...

The Beauty of the Earth

 Then God said, “Let the waters beneath the sky flow together into one place, so dry ground may appear.” And that is what happened.  God called the dry ground “land” and the waters “seas.” And God saw that it was good.  Then God said, “Let the land sprout with vegetation—every sort of seed-bearing plant, and trees that grow seed-bearing fruit. These seeds will then produce the kinds of plants and trees from which they came.” And that is what happened. The land produced vegetation—all sorts of seed-bearing plants, and trees with seed-bearing fruit. Their seeds produced plants and trees of the same kind. And God saw that it was good.  Genesis 1:9-12 (NLT)
I hope that title has you humming a hymnal in your head.  It does me anyway, For the Beauty of the Earth...one of the classics.

I love early morning walks.  I am always so excited when Spring hits and the time changes.  One main reason:  I can wake up at the crack of dawn and get a good walk in before getting ready for work.  It is so peaceful (minus the dogs that join me, sometimes four or five, depending on who's living at the time) and I can get my exercise in for the day and have a good long talk with God.  I have just a few months where I can take my walk before work, which really fits into my day better, so I try to take advantage of it.

As I walk down the road and back, because in the country that's what you have to do, up, down, back, forth...I see the same landscape over and over.  I have lived on this road all but about five years of my life so it's a very familiar scene. But that isn't necessarily a bad thing.  It always causes me to stop and praise God for where I live and for the beauty of the earth, the one that He created. 

I love smelling the fresh earth after the farmers have tended the fields preparing for their planting season.  I delight when I see the first sprouts of growth coming from the carefully planted rows.  And when the combine comes barreling through in the fall and the corn dust is driving everyone nuts, I am thankful.  Yeah, it can get a little messy and it does tend to cause some allergy troubles, but it is a reminder of how God has a hand in everything.  I'm amazed, to this day, that a seed can go in the ground, be covered with dirt, soak up some water (sometimes, sometimes not) grow AND produce it's 'fruit'.  I'm amazed that year after year, farmers continue to make that leap of faith.  They put their trust and everything they've got into their land, their seeds, their toil, knowing that only God can control the outcome.  I've never understood how a farmer can be an unbeliever.  I don't follow how he could possibly believe that there's not a little extra power involved in the growth process from a simple seedling in the ground.
We are now switching from Summer to Fall.  With that our plants are withering up, the grass is dying and the trees will soon change color until their leaves are gone.  It is a beautiful time of year.  Probably my favorite season, which is kinda weird, everything is dying and I love it.  Hhmm.  I love harvest time, cook-outs, hayrides, tee-peeing, the change in temperature, the kids go back to school (ha), shorter days and that the holidays are fast approaching.  For some reason it just seems like a good transition after the hustle and bustle of Summer. 

God knows what he is doing.  He gives us long days in the summer to enjoy and then replenishes us with the shorter days in the Winter.  We get our opportunity to rest and the ground gets a chance to prepare for the Spring planting.  I'm thankful for the four seasons in the Midwest.  I am thankful for the beauty of the earth and I am thankful that I know full well where it comes from.

Just horsin' around...

My husband told me a couple years ago that he had a dream...to own thoroughbred horses and race them.  Interesting.  I have known him nearly all of my life, I did not know this about him.  You have to know him though...I have dubbed him, among other things, the Hobby Hopper.  He gets something in his head and goes at it 110% and then decides to switch to something else full throttle.  I always tease him that I cannot believe he has stuck with me for this long.  Maybe I should be thankful that he changes his mind on that kind of stuff and not me:)  Although I often make fun of him, I support his hobbies because he could be doing worse things, lots worse...

So about 18 months ago, we bought our first thoroughbred, Divinity Doll.  I was hesitant, but Jay and I talked it over.  I voiced my opinions and he listened, or pretended to, and he bought her anyway...ha!  It hasn't been so bad.  We have bought a couple more and have gotten rid of a few.  I have learned I must not get too attached to any of them because as Jay says "Everything I've got is for sale" and when it comes to these horses, it is definitely true.  I have made him hold on to Doll the longest because she's such a sweetie, which apparently is the problem...I'm told thoroughbreds need to be nuts to run fast.

There have been a couple of perks along the way with this latest phase...First, Jay and I grew up with our trainer, (that sounds so official or something) I'll call "Chad" but we had drifted apart somewhat although we still lived in the same area.  It has been fun to see those two together and spend more time with him and his family.  They are almost like extended family these days, whether they like it or not!  And when they start telling stories of the past...it can get pretty funny.

The second thing that keeps my mouth shut is that this is something we can do as a family.  At times we will all go up and work at the barn.  Most of the time it's just Jay and one or both of the kids up there helping out, but sometimes I'll go along and work or just sit around and visit.  Every now and then the kids and I will be in charge of feeding for a night if the fellas are away at a race.  Lane, our little boy, works like a madman up there cleaning stalls.  His little face will get beet red and sweat will be pouring off his face, but he just keeps scooping the poo!  Occasionally, we get to go to the races, or at least one of us will get to tag along.  Often the drive to a race is several hours and isn't something I can manage with our schedules, but when we can go, it is such a good time, win or lose.   

It has been a very long process, but finally, in August, Doll won her first race for us.  And the really amazing thing was that we were all there and got a great WIN picture.  I think that is probably only the third race we've all been to and we actually won!  Funny thing, haha, is I basically missed it.  Here is how it went down:  I had my camera and was getting ready for the finish shot, Doll had been lagging behind (as she likes to do) and Jay was moaning and groaning about how worthless she was, when all of a sudden in the third turn, she burst forward with speed that can only be compared to me, I mean, Secretariat...and started passing horses left and right.  It was neck and neck to the wire.  We were all yelling and screaming.

I had my camera ready, waiting to click...when Jay stood up in front of me and I took a picture of his back...I missed it.  Everyone around me was semi-excited, yet sort of groaning.  It was a photo finish.  I thought, shoot, we lost, but we had to be second or third because we were so tight with that one horse.  So I quickly texted my family that I thought we had got second or maybe third.  Jay, Chad, the kids, they all go down to the track.  I stay up in the stands with my aunt and uncle, who lived close by, and chatted about the race.  I see Jay waving his hands at me like a madman.  "What?"  "Get down here, we won."  "WHAT?"  What a ding-dong.  I had totally missed it.  The moment I had been waiting for.  The one race I had begged Jay to let her run she wins and I missed it.  Ahhh.  I quickly got over it, grabbed my aunt and uncle and forced them down for the picture.  This doesn't happen very often, I tell them, they better take advantage of it while they can.

In the end, I got a great picture of Doll, breathing hard and sweaty, in the winner's circle.  It is just a headshot, but it's a good one.  No one was in front of me:)  I wished I had a peppermint to sneak her, she loves those things.  (See, that's one of the reasons I think she's part of our family...my grandpa loved peppermints and so does she.  It has to be fate.)  She hasn't done much since then.  That may have been her last best shot...but I don't care.  If we were in this for the money, we would've been out long ago.  It was such a fun day...might have been better if I had actually gotten that adrenaline rush from seeing her win, but it was still good.  We have our Win picture.  It's in a frame.  We have the memories of that weekend.  Not necessarily going to start picking out a hat anytime soon, but I betcha we keep horsin' around for a while...

Possible Campaign 2012 Announcement?

I must announce that members of my family may be hitting the campaign trail...at least that is my impression from comments that I have heard...and some repeatedly over the past few months.  So watch out.  Here are a few future candidates and their campaign promises:

The Quackdaddy tells me that when he becomes President, he is going to do away with texting.  "When I'm president, I'm outlawing texting."  If I have heard it once, I've heard that 100 times.  Seriously, he goes on and on about how he hates phones and despises texting.  The funny thing...he is on that cell phone ALL THE TIME.  It never stops ringing and he gets so mad because it never stops...but he always answers.  I tell him to turn it off, but he just can't do it.  I will call him, he will answer and then immediately tell me to hold on because he's making a turn in the field and cannot maneuver the tractor and the phone...okay, so do not answer the phone.  If it's an emergency, I will call back over and over and over until you answer. 

He constantly teases me about always being on the phone...not true, except for the one or two phone calls I get from HIM daily.  No one is on the phone more than the Quackdaddy...and my Grandma (well, before she went to the nursing home) and our friend I'll call "Chad."  (Honestly, now that I think about it, no one is on the phone more than Chad.  That boy needs a blue tooth.) 

Another funny on the Quack, he refuses to get a new phone because he refuses to sign a new contract.  If you saw his phone, you would probably get the sudden urge to go wash your hands or wipe your nose or something.  The last time he took it into Cell One, they told him they had never seen one look like that before.  His screen is so smashed that this yellow goo has oozed out over the top.  It is disgusting.  I would be so embarrassed to use it, but it doesn't seem to phase the Quack. 

The other presidential promise the Quackdaddy throws in there is his threat to do away with Diet Pepsi, which he knows will be the death of me...one way or another;)  So in turn, I keep telling my father that when I'm president, I will outlaw coffee.  He cannot function without his coffee, I cannot function without my 32 oz. Styrofoam cup fountain Diet Pepsi.  It could get nasty, this next presidential election, if dad and I can't work out our differences there.  And can't you just picture it?  Quackdaddy for President.  (There is a children's book, Duck for President!)

This morning I nearly fell over when I heard Jay tell our son, while studying spelling words, "When I'm President, I'm outlawing the letter C."  (Did he just quote the Quack?  Vice President candidate maybe?)  Jay thinks the letter C serves no purpose.  His statement in support of that is that we already have a K and an S, what good is the C?  Great, Jay, Lane is learning to read and spell, let's not confuse the boy.  I wanted to whisper in Lane's ear to tell his dad that if Lane becomes President, he would promise to do away with iced tea and horse racing!  That would've got him.  I certainly can't picture Jay running for president...it might really shake up thoughts on education and reading though, wouldn't it?  We would have to revise the alphabet song...

Fortunately for everyone, I cannot campaign nor run for any elected position because of my very important job with the State...haha...I'm cracking up on that.  I mean, God forbid, I would want to run for Library Board or School Board or Park Board...because it could possibly compromise my ability to type verbatim the words spoken in court???  I must remain impartial!   I mean what would happen if we had a defendant that had overdue books, way overdue, as in, I don't know, let's say telling the Librarian they don't have the books, they never had the books, and then, let's say, finding the books underneath the seat of your Grandma Great's truck nearly a year later...how could I possibly remain impartial and produce an accurate transcription with that kind of crud going on?  (Of course, that is entirely hypothetical about the overdue book scenario.)  Okay, whatever...it actually comes in a little handy at election time and I don't have to promise to put signs in my yard or pick sides publicly.  Yeah for me!

Town Hall Meetings and debates, the Quack dressed in camouflage, Jay sporting his horse racing silks, oh, this could be fun.  Stay tuned for more upcoming announcements concerning the Presidential Campaign 2012...your future could depend on it, especially if you like texting...or diet pepsi...or the letter C...

The more the merrier, right?!

 Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.  (1 Peter 4:9 NIV)

I had a pretty good weekend.  Jay had to work,  but I felt productive, not super rushed and the weather was beautiful.  My kids had kids over the whole weekend from Friday night to Sunday night...some people think, ugh, how do you do that and why?  Let me tell you why...

We live way out in the country.  I remember wishing so much that I lived in town so I could run around and go to so and so's house and just 'hang out' doing whatever with all my friends.  I always felt like I missed out a little because I would hear about them running around town freely.  Now that I'm a parent, I see the great advantages to living in the country, out in the middle of nowhere.  I have almost total control over who is at my house and who my kids are hanging out with.  That is not to say that I think all kids in town are unsupervised, trouble or mischievous.  I KNOW that my kids will mess up, get in trouble and are certainly mischievous on their own...they need no encouragement from others:)

As a consequence to this, I feel like I must encourage kids over to our house.  And honestly, I don't really mind.  Yes, there are all sorts of messes to clean up, extra laundry to do (yesterday...kids+pond=muddy mess), extra food to buy (where did all that cereal go that I just bought?), lots and lots of snacks, patience, etc.  Jay and I both feel it is important to try our best to make our home a safe place (shush it, I know what you're thinking but we do okay in the human department) and an open and welcoming environment for our kids and their friends.  And the important thing here is, I know where my children are and what they're doing for the most part.

It is not that I do not trust the parents of our kids' friends or feel like their supervision or environment isn't good enough, I appreciate the fact that some people just don't have it in them to open their home to constant kids.  I also realize that there are some kids out there that do not have a safe or "normal" home environment.  Some kids may need a glimpse of what life can be like if their home life isn't so great, something to shoot for when they grow up.  I don't want it to come across like we have this wonderful home life and everything is perfect, la-ti-da, but I feel like we have a fairly normal, stable and nurturing environment.  (We certainly have the whole cycle of life thing down with our animals mishaps.  We really should come up with some new life lesson topics, huh?)

Do I want to be their best friend?  Absolutely not.  Do I want to be their parents?  No way, I've got my own two I'm struggling to guide.  But when extra kids are at our house, I will get after them just like my own, I will expect them to do the things I expect my kids to do, I will try to keep them safe, offer them a decent meal or snack, transport them where they need to be when, make them go to church with us, answer their questions when they have them, etc.  I try to love on them like I would my own if the opportunity arises.  There are times when I am guessing the kids think I've lost my ever-loving mind or I'm mean or grouchy...and sometimes that is true.

I know that there will come a time that I won't know where they're at or who they're with unless they are honest with me.  But while I've still got the upper hand, I need to use it.  I am thankful that we live in a small community and have lots of lots of good friends and family to help raise our children.  Our home needs to be welcoming and a safe haven for our kids and their friends.  I certainly don't want my kids to be homebodies never wanting to leave our house or their mama, I do need my space...but right now, I'll just take a deep breath and soak it in, it won't last forever...

Bad idea...

About 21 years ago, a couple of my friends and I were out cruising in Marshall.  My friend had a bright red Dodge Daytona, which was a really cool car 21 years ago, and my cousin/friend I call "Danielle" was with us.  I was driving, which wasn't unusual really.  If you do the math, I wasn't 16 and didn't actually have my driver's license yet, or at least one legal by the laws in Illinois.  I had been driving for a couple of years.  When you live on a farm that happens.  You take your dad to a field, you pick him up and go somewhere else.  You learn to drive tractors, which aren't a whole lot different than cars, etc.  I was comfortable driving and I guess my friends were too.

We usually cruised in Casey, but this particular night we were in Marshall.  I don't know why, maybe we were hot on the trail of some Marshall Lions...So we're going up and down the street and people start flashing us.  We're thinking, Oh, wow, all these people are flashing us.  Do they know it is us?  Do they like us?  Wonder if they want us to pull over and talk?  We would soon find out...

Oh yeah, someone wanted to pull us over and talk (because we didn't have our headlights on apparently, oops).  Unfortunately, it wasn't a cute fella in a Lions uniform, it was a couple grumpy old men in uniform...the bad kind of uniform.  Well, as soon as I saw the red and blues come on, I was in panic mode.  I did what any 15-yr-old driving without a license would do...I took off.  I immediately turned onto a side street and then immediately turned onto another side street, and threw the car in Park.  I then screamed for my friend to switch me places.  Good plan.

Except that this was a little sports car with the seats low and the big console and gear shifter in the middle.  Two girls trying to swap seats in a flurry equals two girls tangled up with parts in both seats.  Bad idea.  But it gets worse.  So the cops, who are parked right behind us with their lights on, all 300 of them, yell for us to get out and put our hands on the hood of the car.  Of course, they have no idea what they're dealing with so I can't blame them for that.  We did as they commanded.

Some of the details are a little fuzzy, probably in part due to the fact that I was scared to death, but the mean older-looking one asked me what my name was...and I did what any scared-that-I'll-never-get-my-license teenager would do...I lied.  I blurted out my friend's name...you know, the one that I constantly get confused for anyway.  Yes, Officer, I am 16 and my name is "Susan ...."  Of course, this sent my friend and cousin/friend "Danielle" into a frenzy.  I heard my friend whisper "Sarah!" 

Mr. older-looking police officer and I walked back to his squad car and I grabbed my purse because, of course, he wanted to see my license...which I didn't have.  I came clean.  I told him the truth and added that I did have my white slip or blue slip or whatever color it is.  So he asks to see it.  I dig and dig...oh, yes, here it is.  He says "Is this your social security number?"  Without hesitation I said, "Yes."  He says, "Oh it is?"  Well, I remembered at this point that our teacher had advised us to put 888-88-8888 on our cards, it was standard or something, and that is what mine said.  I'm not sure if he knew that and was just playing with me or if he really was curious.  I felt like this guy doesn't believe a thing I'm saying...and honestly, why would he?!

Little did I know that the younger-looking officer was standing outside with my two friends telling them that everything would be all right, he was just going to scare the dickens out of me, I wouldn't go to jail...but I didn't know that.  The officer asks me about my address and my parents, etc.  The funny thing was, ha, ha, my parents were out of town and my brother was in charge.  Ha, ha.  He didn't think that was too funny though.  When all was said and done, he gave me a slip of paper with a phone number and told me I was to have my dad call him as soon as they got home tomorrow.  Good trick.  First of all, I was clueless as to what was actually going to happen to me legally, and second, I for sure had to tell my parents now...this guy knew what he was doing!

I remember going to McDonald's after this and seeing some other kids from our high school there.  I was totally freaked out.  "Danielle," that stinker, couldn't quit laughing.  I think she was a tad shook up, but like almost everyone in our family, we use humor as a disguise sometimes, and she may have also just been cracked up because I thought I could get away with using someone else's name.  It's not like we live in a secluded far-off land without technology or people that don't know who people are or anything.  Dumb.

Funny thing, I can still remember that Cher's "If I Could Turn Back Time" was playing when I got home that night.  I remember walking in thinking, great, my brother's going to kill me.  The next day when I told my parents, I was thinking, great, my parents are going to kill me.  I was grounded, of course, but I remember my dad saying he was grounding me for lying, not necessarily for the driving although it was illegal...because he had allowed me to drive so much.  And when I eavesdropped on the conversation my dad had with the older-looking officer, I realized something, they knew each other, huh, and the officer wanted to know if my dad would be breeding any more Lab puppies.  I was so mad...and relieved.

Update

I want you to imagine that the Unsolved Mysteries theme is on and their "Update" tag has splashed across the screen.  Ha.  I used to love that show.  My friend I call Susan loved it too.  Every now and then it will be on the Dish.  I really can't tell if they're remakes of the old stories or new stories.  It has a new host, but some of the stories look very dated.  Regardless, if it's on, I watch or record it :)

I thought I would update my followers (ha, that still cracks me up) on a few things.  If you've been faithful and totally wasting five minutes of your life daily reading my stories, you will remember these very important things.

#1, the tree that Madolyn plowed over with the 4wheeler and blamed on my mom's dog, Zip...it is still alive.  Incredible.  Jay went out there like a week later and took black electrical tape and wrapped it around the base.  He said that he has done that in the past and it works.  Okay.  I didn't give it much of a shot, but would you believe, the tree is still green?  Even without any rain, and I mean any, it is still green.  There were a few branches at the very bottom that yellowed and died, but the rest of it remains.  He ended up staking it up straight once he saw that it might make it.  We shall see...but I'm thinking I want to be a pine tree when I grow up!

#2, the mattress is gone!  And I have you to thank.  If I hadn't posted about the mattress, I'm not sure we would have actually picked it up.  Finally, after about a week or so of driving by and getting that sick feeling in my stomach called guilt, we loaded up the fam on Sunday and went to do a little Community Service (that's what I told the kids).  Jay did all the work, but we all had to go.  We put it in a dumpster and it is gone.  Thank you for holding me accountable...I must behave now when I share my secrets...

#3, Meepie, our sole survivor, is still alive.  Writing about him didn't jinx him after all.  He's 13.5 years old and going strong.  He hates the new puppy as much as he did the one before that and the one before that and the...well, you know where that's going.

#4, I'm still either very hot or very cold, love to eat and eat right now, enjoy my 32 oz Diet Pepsi every morning...and although the scrapbook for the 4H fair was completed, we still have approximately 6000 pictures sitting downstairs next to my small warehouse of scrapbooking supplies.  I'm not giving up.  I just need to get organized and start slow...yeah!

#5, sundaes and Sundays, well, I still really enjoy both.  I can't quite give in to the whole do nothing on Sunday concept.  I realize it's supposed to be a do-nothing-Sunday because of giving just one day to the Lord, but I cannot let go, not yet anyway.  I would love to do nothing, but I need to be doing nothing for the right reasons...maybe someday.

#6, I am not writing a book.  I love to read them, but I cannot put my thoughts together for such a task.  Refer back to my very first post on this blog.  It's not in me.  I'm kinda like that SNL feature, was it random thoughts or whatever by Jack Handley...is that right?  My mind...anyway, I go little by little.  Big scares me...see post #4 about the mountain of pictures in my basement.

Thanks to those of you who follow this and encourage me.  It really has been a fun way to share my memories and store them for my kids.  And I get to voice my opinion without getting into an argument or having someone correct me.  I can just delete your little correction or rash comment if I choose...haha.  No, really, I wouldn't do that...well, at least not yet.   Signing off...get that Unsolved Mysteries closing theme in your head...oh yeah...

Shrinking...

But godliness with contentment is great gain.  For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it.  (Timothy 6:6-7 TNIV)

Life around our little farm/ranch is shrinking.  This past weekend, we shipped the goats off to the auction.  We brought home two hermit crabs from Florida a month ago...one just bit the dust.  That's no big surprise.  As soon as we brought Hank the Tank II home, they got shoved to the side. 

My scenic backyard, or the one I had visions of dancing in my head, is shrinking.  It is now full of stuff: a beautiful barn, lots of gravel, a pool, a huge round pen with a little shed.  I can no longer look out my backdoor and see the pond and that spot I wanted a gazebo...for us to relax in and hang out.  Oh, wait, we don't do that.  We have small children and race horses and church commitments and work and fun to seek. We do have less yard to mow however...

The big pond behind our house is shrinking.  With no good steady rainfall this summer, it just keeps getting smaller and smaller. In fact, the cows get out by walking around the fence where it's real shallow or completely dry.  My plants (the ones that survived) are starting to die, shrivel up, fall apart. Boo-hoo.  My closets are shrinking.  They have to be.  There is no place to put stuff.  The drawers on our dressers and in my kitchen seem to be getting smaller too.  And what about the couch?  I can remember when both kids and I could lay on it together and snuggle up while watching a movie.  We no longer fit...it has to be the couch, right?!

The free time we have is shrinking.  I know that is just part of life, and I'm not sure it's a bad thing.  As my kids get older, they are becoming more involved with activities.  As I get older, I become more involved in activities.  It's not that I don't have as much time, it's that I am using it differently than before.  Lots of things are shrinking before my eyes...my life span, my attention span, my waistline (at least this week, yeah!).  I could go on and on... Soon my height will go and then the number of hairs on my head.

Although we often times believe it is true, bigger isn't always better.  A bigger deluxe half-pound cheeseburger may taste yummy and delicious, but it will wear off quickly and then you will not feel so good...Ugh.  A bigger house means a larger mortgage, lots of furnishings, higher utilities, more space to clean.  A larger vehicle for me would mean more room for the the kids to store their stuff and the more I could carry around 'just in case.'  A big promotion brings a lot of responsibilities and headaches.  You get the picture.

Everywhere you go people want something more, something bigger, the newest version of this or that.  My daughter thinks she needs the I-pod Generation-whatever-number-they're-up-to-now.  She already has the I-pod Generation-whatever-number-they-were-on-two-years-ago; is it really necessary?  I would like a newer vehicle...there's nothing major wrong with the one I have, but the newer stuff is so fancy-looking, oh, how I would love to have one myself. We, myself included, Christians included, let ourselves get so out of control with wanting more.  We have to let it go.  I have to let it go.  As noted above in 1 Timothy, we can't take it with us when we go.

In a world where we're told that bigger is better, I think I am okay with the shrinking going on around me...(except for the pond and rain problem, of course).  I'm still hopeful to some day have that big, beautiful, scenic backyard with a gazebo overlooking the pond, but it may not be here on earth...and that's okay.

Serving Royalty

My family, on both sides, comes from a long-line of basketball fans and a few coaches.  My grandma's nephew, Steve, was head coach for the Bluestreaks for many years and then had the opportunity to become assistant coach with the Evansville Aces, which was a pretty big deal for the family. 

I'm not sure how all of this came about except that Steve loved, loved, loved his Aunt Madolyn's cookin' and apparently she invited him and some friends over for lunch one summer day.  I was so excited.  Grandma wanted me to come over and help her get the lunch ready and serve it.  I was giddy with delight.  It was like serving royalty.  He was bringing Aces player Marty Simmons and another player by the name of Scott Hanson, maybe (although that may not be right, I was totally zeroed in on Marty).  I think there was maybe another coach with them too.  We would be having the usual gourmet dinner on the farm: beef and noodles, mashed potatoes, green beans, corn, cottage cheese.

Unfortunately for me, I had just gotten my first perm.  You've got the visual, I know.  A fresh perm on fresh young hair.  Hair that really, really takes a perm too.  I was mortified.  I looked like the guy from Hall & Oats (please tell me you're old enough to know who Hall & Oats are).  I can't remember which one he is, but if you look it up, you'll know who I'm talking about.  There wasn't much I could do about my hair so I just carried on.  I remember sorta hiding at times.  Ducking in and out.  Grandma would have me go out with something and I would lay it on the table and dart back to the kitchen without being seen. 

It was such a big deal to me and one of my fondest memories.  Of course, I realize now that it was probably etched in my mind forever in part due to the hair-fro I was sporting and how embarrased I was. Looking back on it now, I'm guessing they didn't even notice little Miss Hall & Oats and her fresh perm because they were too busy soaking up those delicious homemade noodles...aaaahhh...

The Figure 8

I love the Lord because he hears my voice and my prayer for mercy.  (Psalm 116:1 NLT)

Oh boy, talk about flashbacks.  Our family had one last Wednesday.  So I must tell you about the Russian Figure 8.  I cannot remember what year it was, but I'm going to approximate that my brother was maybe 13 and I was 10.  It was wintertime.  Very cold.  Perfect weather for ice skating.

A local farmer/family friend had a large pond right next to their house and they had invited just about everyone over to skate or play on their pond.  So we got all bundled up, dad told us get in the old truck, he threw in his old ice skates and off we went.  I cannot tell you if my brother had skates or not, I'm pretty confident I did not.  I just used my boots as most of us kids did.  Since ice skating it not a huge deal around here, there were few that had actual ice skates.  The Quackdaddy was one of them.

And the Quackdaddy had enjoyed a few years on some intramural hockey team or something.  I can't recall the exact details, but he had moves....one of which was the Russian Figure 8 (I think that was the name of it) and so he was showing us kids and his peers how it was done out on the ice.  He was having a good time, going this way and that way when he stumbled and went crashing down onto the hard ice.  It was not pretty.  Everyone ran to him and gathered around.  He was moaning and groaning and hollering out the usual (not really) words you might associate with extreme pain, "oh golly, oh gee, oh goodness."  Over and over again.  It was obvious that his leg/ankle was not okay.  I don't remember if an ambulance came or if his buddies loaded him up in a truck, but Mark & I went home alone.  My brother was just telling me last week that he still remembers driving the truck home that day.

The end result was that my dad broke his ankle and his leg.  He had to have pins put in his ankle to hold it together.  This was not good.  My dad was self-employed and my mom worked part-time at the library in town.  There was no insurance, no surplus of money, no sick or vacation days.  No work = no pay.  I can remember that there was this cloud of gloom and doom that just kinda lingered in our house for a while.  It was scary for me as a young child, I cannot imagine what it felt like for my parents.

We made it.  Our family forged ahead.  I'm not sure what all went on to get us through, but it worked.  I have no doubt there were hundreds of prayers uttered in that house that year and many pleas for help.  God delivered us.  Those memories are not necessarily funny, but remembering my dad lying there yelling "oh golly, oh gee, oh goodness" gets me every time.  He would not cuss in front of us kids.  I'm proud of him for that.  I hope that if something similar happens to me, I will be able to bite my tongue.  Rest assured, I will not being doing any Russian Figure 8's for my kids ever and thankfully my dad won't either...

Hey there, Mr. Edward Jones

There was a period of time when our horse, Woody, and the goats would literally roam our yard.  We live off the road down a long lane and they pretty well stayed back at our house so we let them go.  There was plenty for them to graze on as I used to enjoy landscaping.  I say I used to because it is almost not worth the effort anymore.  Nothing was sacred; they ate, pooped and peed on everything.

One day I was working on transcripts in my bedroom and the kids were out in the living room.  If our house is shut up, you can't hear outside noises very well.  A car that the kids didn't recognize pulled up...so they came running, "Mom, some guy is here and he's wearing a suit."  Of course, I'm jumping into panic mode because a) I haven't showered or put on real clothes; b) our house, as usual, resembles the aftermath of a natural disaster; and c) what does he want?

And then I made it to the front door and everything went from bad to worse because I hadn't thought about  option d) Woody, the horse, all the goats, Bifficus the idiot Bloodhound and Abby were swarming around this poor gentleman in the suit as he's trying to make his way up the front walk and onto the porch.  I can only imagine what thoughts were going through his mind as I opened up the door.  I know what was going through mine, I was mortified.  There is NO way I'm inviting this man into my house, I have no idea who he is.  He looks decent enough and he's dressed up, but it's not really safe.  I'm also wondering if he is thinking that he's just stepped into the twilight zone.  He introduces himself and tells me he's opened an Edward Jones office in Marshall and was hoping to talk to us about our investments.

Remember how I told you Bifficus was an idiot, that he used to chase and bark and just stir up trouble at every opportunity?  Well, apparently he felt the call of the wild kick in and decided it was time to strut his stuff because all of a sudden these goats that he lounges with and cohabitates with are now bothering him and he has an audience...so he starts growling at them...which causes them to gather together and do what goats do best...poop and pee...on the porch...right there at the front door...within feet of Mr. Edward Jones. 

I'm apologizing all over myself for the complete madness surrounding this poor guy, and he is, of course, telling me it's no big deal, it's fine, it doesn't bother him.  Yeah, right, pal, I'm not a total idiot.  You came here trying to gain an investment account and here's what I have to offer: a horse poking his head over the porch railing, a bloodhound that will not shut up and a herd of goats pooping and peeing at your feet, sure, it's all good.  How much should I send to open up our account?

Needless to say, he probably did his condensed sales pitch, you know the I-don't-know-who-these-people-are-or-what-is-going-on-here-but-get-me-the-heck-outta-here version, passed a card through the melee and headed to his car.  I'm guessing somewhere down the road, probably several miles just to be safe, he pulled over and had to clean off his shoes and gather his senses.  Oh, and my kids, they thought it was great.  They just weaved in and out of the ruckus, smashed the poop and traipsed through the pee puddle, all the while introducing Mr. EJ to the goats and dogs and horse by name.  Frankly, I wouldn't have been surprised if DCFS or some other agency showed up for a home visit later that day. 

Funny thing, I now work directly across from his office.  Some day I'm going to drop in and remind him of his encounter at the Wilhoit Ranch and see what he says.  I'm sure it will be a good laugh...now that he's recovered, he's safe and we're not standing on my front porch...

The gift that keeps on giving...

"Give, and it will be given to you: a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be poured into your lap. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you.” (Luke 6:38 TNIV)

And, no, I don't mean the jelly-of-the-month club.  (I know, I know, I just couldn't resist myself.)  Some of the best one-liners are from Clark Griswold and family! 

One of my top ten favorite things to do is to pay it forward.  If you haven't seen the movie Pay it Forward, go rent it right now.  It is awesome!  So I must tell this story because it so neat and maybe it will lead to some of you sharing other cool stories along the same line.  This is in NO WAY an invitation for me to receive praises or a pat on the back or so someone can say, look what they're doing.  This is just a reminder of how things work out when we try to follow God's will.

A while back, Jay texts me mid-day and says he thinks someone we know has a need and we should try to help them out.  I don't hesitate.  Absolutely is my reply.  We don't discuss the amount or where it will come from.  It was just a quick yes and we agreed that we'd do it anonymously.  End of discussion.

Approximately thirty minutes later, Jay texts me again and asks me if I was expecting a check for $250 because one came in the mail, it looks kinda hinky and he doesn't recognize the name on the check.  I think about it a minute and decide it must be for the Booster Club or something, I'll look at it later.  Then Jay replies with a thought, maybe it's our vacation condo deposit.  Oh, yeah, that's right, that name does ring a bell.  Cool, now we had this extra $250 that we weren't really counting on...and that settles it, we'll send  $250 as our gift.  Awesome. 

No joke, another thirty minutes later, Jay texts me again and tells me that someone in our family just gave us an anniversary gift of $200.  Weird.  We weren't expecting that.  We never get money like that as a gift.  It was quite a surprise.  Okay.  I'm getting giddy at this point.  This is crazy.  I'm telling you I am not making this up...the next day Jay opens up another anniversary card and it has a crisp fifty-dollar bill in it.  How amazing is that?  Within 24 hours of our decision to help someone out, without hesitation, without having any idea of a dollar figure and where we would pull it from, we were gifted the $250 we had sent to someone else.  Now, I don't know about you, but if that doesn't give you goosebumps, nothing will. 

This is the power of the Lord.  It's not a coincidence.  There are no coincidences in God's kingdom.  This is how it works.  God blesses us when we bless others.   That's not to say that the rich get rich because they give back...and it's certainly not to say that some don't.  And financially poor people aren't poor because they don't give to others.  Blessings aren't always monetary.  Blessings can include many things: an overflowing heart, having someone give you a hug or encouragement, seeing food on the table, a healthy family, a steady job.  Even something as simple as another noticing you're in a hurry at the grocery store and letting you in front of them is a blessing in my book.  God showers us with blessings! 

The other really neat aspect of giving and paying it forward is that it is often contagious.  You know, someone does something special for you, so next time you're in line at the drive-thru and see the mother behind you looking a little stressed out (probably b/c the kids in the backseat can't decide if they want nuggets or a hamburger and will not give the poor mom a definitive answer) and you have a little extra in your wallet, pay for her order, say a prayer for them and take off.  It can be so exciting!  Maybe you won't start a movement that changes the world and maybe the person receiving your little blessing is clueless or is so mad at life and lost without Jesus that they don't get it, it doesn't matter.  You did what you did for the right reasons and our good Lord knows that!!

Again, I do not share this story to boost my ego.  I share it to boost your faith.  If you want your heart to burst with joy, do something totally anonymous for someone.  Give God the praise for the opportunity.  Share your excitement with Him.  Don't give expecting anything in return.  Give out of faith, love and compassion.  You won't regret it.

Number Nine

Here goes...I'm so nervous and afraid to even tell you about number nine.  Remember how I left off on my story about Hank the Tank #8...One Sunday afternoon (July 10, I won't forget:), Lane & I were at home.  I opened up my email and there was a message from the guy we got Hank the Tank #8 from...he had woke up that morning to find 7 new puppies in his garage.  My first thought was, didn't he know she was having puppies?  Duh, of course, he did, but he just had failed to mention this to me! 

I cannot even begin to tell you how ecstatic I was, immediately I told Lane, then called Jay and Madolyn.  We were giddy.  Lane & I started going through a list of names.  Our dog guy said he had a couple chocolate males and that we could have whichever one we wanted.  Yee-Haw.  It is silly how excited we were.  A smile was plastered across my face for the remainder of the day.  I don't think the dog guy really understood how badly we wanted another puppy.

Once Jay & Mad got home, the discussion continued.  Everyone but me thought it was okay to name the new puppy Hank the Tank II and so we did.  The countdown was on.  Six long weeks we would have to wait to pick up our precious boy. It was like waiting for Christmas and I don't mean for the kids.  I was crazy-excited about getting a new dog...which is insane because if you've had a puppy of any kind, you know it's very similar to having a newborn baby!  In fact, Jay and I think it should be a prerequisite for having children, you must live through a puppy first. 

After harassing our dog guy for weeks, he finally caved and let us come pick out Hank the Tank II.  It was pretty hard because the two chocolate males were identical.  Jay surprised us on Aug 25 and brought the puppy home on his way home from working all night.  Hank the Tank II has totally lived up to the reputation of his namesake.  His mannerisms are very much the same and we are delighted.  We have been taking him everywhere we can to keep him super busy because...he is like a newborn baby.

For two weeks this sweet Hank the Tank II has slept on our bed.  He roots around and gets comfy for about an hour, hour-and-a-half and then whines.  We take him out, he pees, we come back in.  And the cycle continues.  I realize their bladder is the size of a teaspoon, but come on.  We started keeping water from him right before bed and making him eat earlier in the evening, but that didn't seem to help.  Finally after two weeks of me being sick and a little incident with my father ending up in the hospital and Jay's lack of good sleep, last night Hank the Tank II stayed in his crate in the laundry room.  We put him in there at 10:00, he whined once in the middle of the night and Jay took him out and brought him back in and he was great until 6:00, which is perfect.  He did it.  He had not whined and cried all night.  He didn't have any messes in his crate. 

Here's a cute trick he's picked up.  He learned quickly where and what the air conditioning vents were and he crashes right in front or on them.  When it's not on, he just goes from one vent to another, crashes, waits, gets up and goes to the next one.  It is hilarious that they figure that stuff out so quickly.  But he was just sooo hot and was desperate for some relief...ha!

Hank the Tank II visited our friendly vet office this week, got his medicine which he immediately threw up on my mother-in-law's floor...oops...so I'll be getting another dose of medicine tomorrow for him to take.  Little stinker.  He's adorable, precious and we are becoming quite attached to the little guy, who we plan to guard with our lives.  We are so nervous about getting attached to him.  Jay now has him on high-quality, high-dollar puppy food, we are watching him like a hawk, you will be tired of seeing him everywhere.  I know it may seem a little overboard, but you haven't been a dog at our house...

Desperado

When I thinking of something to write and this memory came into view, I just cracked up.  I know it won't be nearly as funny for you to read, but it was one of the funniest moments ever.  I know if my two friends, "Beth" and "Susan," happen to look at this, they'll giggle as soon as they see the title because they'll know immediately what this one is about.  I am giggling right now.

A few years back a bunch of us girls had a girls weekend getaway.  It was in Kansas City, MO.  We have a friend who has connections to the Harrah's Casino and Hotel and we got a penthouse suite.  Let me tell you, this was the most awesome hotel suite I have ever seen.  It was just like in the movies.  There was a humongous bedroom with a king-sized bed, a beautiful bathroom with a really cool shower, a large bar area that was top of the line, dining room, living area with a fireplace, I think.  It was amazing.  I think there were about 8-10 of us girls staying there.

The title of the weekend was "Little Black Dress" and we got all spiffed up in our little black dresses to go out for supper and then our plan was to hit the Casino (we were given $100 each to spend there!) and then go dancing.  Right before we left, there was a knock on the door...oh wait...it was our friend's birthday, maybe her 30th, I can't recall, but anyway, she kept talking about a "surprise" that was coming later.  Oh, how I was hoping it was some luscious chocolate cake or maybe some ice cream...

We were all dolled up, had our heels and dresses on.  We had these ridiculous pink and black leopard stripped floppy hats too that we had to wear to supper (fun, I still have mine) and there was a knock on the door.  The next few moments were all a blur, but I remember the door opening, seeing a man with a cowboy hat, jeans and boots carrying a boombox...UH-OH...Now, I have no experience in this realm, but I'm not a total idiot either.  My antenna went straight up and I darted to the left into this small bathroom right off the entrance to the suite and slammed the door.  A few seconds later, I heard a quiet tap-tap on the door and my dynamic duo "Beth" & "Susan" joined me in the small room.

And that's when we heard the music start playing.  Whoa, wait a minute, is that DESPERADO?  The Eagles, seriously?  We had no actual idea of what was going on outside the bathroom door, but we had a pretty good idea...and we started giggling...and then the music kept playing and we could hear oooh's and aaah's and lots of laughter from the others.  But what we couldn't get over is that out of all songs in the world that one could pick for a striptease, this was the one he had chosen.  I don't know about you, but hearing Desperado doesn't bring about any warm mushy feelings...In fact, the only thing it brings into my mind is the Seinfeld episode where Desperado is Elaine's boyfriend's favorite song and he won't let her talk during it...ha...Anyway, we absolutely could not quit laughing...and we are girls...who have had children...

Thankfully, there was a toilet...and you would think one would use it if they needed to, especially if it was in the 4x5 foot room with you...One in our trio, who shall remain nameless, didn't make it and had a little accident, which made us giggle even more.  Fortunately, there was a camera to capture all of this silliness.   (I've got a few scrapbook pages about it-minus the accident!)  We had our own little dance party on top of the vanity and the toilet.  Again, more giggling.  We are women now, with children and husbands, in our thirties for heaven's sake and we were hiding in the bathroom.  It was hilarious.

I have no idea what the other girls thought of us.  It didn't really matter.  We didn't think less of them for staying out and enjoying the show.  We just didn't want any part of it.  We had our own little party and it created quite a memory for all three of us.  Ever since that weekend, when I hear Desperado, I can't help but drift back to that tiny little bathroom in that luxurious penthouse suite...

Priceless

If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9 NIV)

I know I've used this verse before in a post a while back, but it's a good one.  And I must share this cute little story.  This past Sunday, as it was the first Sunday of the month, it was time for communion.  Usually, my little guy is in Children's Church, but he is now a big-time second grader and doesn't get to go back with the younger kids.  So he sat down beside Jay and I after the children's sermon.

The congregation said our Affirmation of Faith in unison and our preacher started the communion process.  He always invites anyone who has Jesus in their hearts to partake in the communion.  As soon as he said this, my sweet boy raised his hand and smiled.  I thought I would burst.  Jay saw it too.  It was adorable.   He has taken communion before but he has never been out in the sanctuary for the whole process so this was all new to him.  Our elders deliver the sacraments back to the nursery so that the leader and any children back there who have accepted Christ can partake.  I knew he had had communion in children's church but I had never thought about him missing the service part of it. 

It was absolutely priceless.  One of those moments where you just want to high-five your child and say, YES!  He gets it.  He was super excited about Jesus being in his heart.  He raised his hand with a smile.  He was not embarrased.  We were in the second pew.  He didn't worry about what the people behind us thought.  I wanted to stand up and say, hey, we should all be raising our hands with a beaming smile, shouldn't we?  Instead I'm guessing if you look out over the crowd, you would see faces with very serious looks, a few tears and maybe even heads bowed.  I'm not saying it's not a very serious ceremony that should become some sort of dance party or something, but maybe just once we should raise our hands and exclaim our excitement.  What do you say?  Are you with me?  :)

Stupid chickens, I hate chickens.

All my life my grandma has told me stories of how she hated chickens.  Her family raised them and she has carried with her a hatred of chickens and their feathers ever since.  Jay decided we needed to raise chickens.  So Jay took the kids and they bought 25 chickens at Rural King.  We had one of the bloodhounds at the time and Abby.  For the first week or so, they stayed in the basement in the utility room...far, far away from me.  They were pretty simple then.  They were tiny and didn't really require much care...for a while.

Then they started stinkin' and I booted them outside.  Once they were relocated outside, in probably one week's time, we had lost a handful of chickens.  Their heads were tweaked right off their bodies through the cage.  We are guessing it was a combination of dogs and turkey buzzards although I still say dogs, plain and simple.  It came to pass that we had one hen, three roosters and a duck, with one deformed wing, (from the scramble at the fair) remaining out of the 25.  You can imagine the horror the hen suffered at the mercy of three very competitive roosters. 

These animals just roamed our yard.  We would come home and they would be in the garage on the top step that goes into the house.  And "they" would be the hen, three roosters, the duck, a bloodhound and a lab.  Seriously, it was party central.  Or we'd come home and they would be on top of the deep freeze, I suppose because of it's warmth on the outside.  In fact, the hen started laying her eggs on top of the deep freeze in the garage!!!  There was one instance when there was chicken poo on the trunk of my little gray car in the garage.  It was outrageous.

One afternoon in particular I remember going out to feed them and on my way back to the house, it was just like a scene from a thriller movie.  I would take a few steps and hear something, so I would stop, the noise stopped.  I would start again, hear the noise and stop.  The noise would stop again.  I would turn around and that stupid mean rooster (one was far meaner than the others) was following me, ready to attack.  It got so bad that I would only go out there with a broom to defend myself.

Finally, we had had enough.  The kids hated the taste of the eggs (I realize they're supposed to taste better), and I hate eggs in general unless they're mixed in a cake, brownie or cookie batter so there was really not point to these creatures except their poop was everywhere and the one rooster was mean.  We gave them away, a couple of them to Madolyn's friend and a couple to my brother.  I think my brother even decided the mean rooster had to go.  He was so vicious.

That is the story of the stupid chickens.  I try to never say never, but I sure hope that we never, ever, ever have chickens again, period.

The future: Our Youth

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”  (Matthew 19:14 NIV)

Isn't it funny how goals change as you get older?  I can remember that I used to think that if I had this or that, then I would be happy.  If I accomplish this one thing, then I'd be successful.  The goal I have been focusing on for the past few years is this:  If I can change just one person's life, then my life was successful and I accomplished His purpose for me. 

Tomorrow night we will have a cookout/potluck to just kick off the new year for youth at our church.  Our youth program has been growing and we are overjoyed and amazed constantly that the kids keep coming back.  We even purchased an older church van earlier this year to help with the transportation.  Our church is way out in the middle of nowhere, near Moonshine, which is a tad further out in the middle of nowhere.  We have three or four school districts that feed into our church or youth.  I love it.  It is something I look forward to now, which amazes me.

About five years ago when my friend I'll call Beth and two others in our church decided it was time to start up a youth group again, I was hesitant.  We had tried one a few years earlier for the younger kids and it just didn't work.  My attitude about it was TERRIBLE.  It didn't work out.  I had had one at my house about ten years ago for a couple years and it was pretty good...until those kids graduated.  So I started praying about whether I should become involved with this new youth group.  I prayed for guidance, acceptance and a change of attitude.  I knew that God may tell me to do this and I better have an attitude adjustment or I will be miserable.  Of course, he answered.

We forged ahead.  The plan was to have church members sign up to provide a meal before our youth meeting because we knew so many kids came straight from some sort of practice.  It worked.  I think we did this high school youth group two years when the church decided to expand the program and include all ages.  It has been a success.  We still serve a meal each Wednesday evening and have a whole committee devoted to that.  A list is put up monthly and people sign up to bring certain items and the kitchen committee throws it all together.   After supper, we divide up into our age groups.

It never ceases to amaze me what these kids come up with each week, the lessons they teach me, the shocking stuff they tell us, the very different lives they lead.  Several of them don't come on Sundays, their families do not participate in church activities anywhere and some have never ever been to church before.  Again, it just floors me.  Some of these kids have never been to a church service!  How can that be?

We know that some of these youth make terrible choices, even after we've covered that very topic; we know they continue to struggle with bad habits, destructive relationships, terrible attitudes, etc.  We are well aware of the fact that sometimes they go out and screw up terribly.  I think our common goal, or at least mine is, to continue to love them unconditionally, to accept them without question, and to continue to pound into their heads what the Word says, how to make better decisions, how to break free from their chains, etc.  We know these kids aren't coming to us and leaving perfect human beings, but we love them anyway. 

I don't know of a single church body that could claim that kind of turnaround either...we are all sinners.  Our churches would be empty if it weren't for us sinners.  I think sometimes adults put way too much pressure on our young adults to lead perfect lives and to go out and put on a good image for the church.  Sometimes I want to just scream at a youth when I find out something they did, something we've talked about over and over, but I know that I do the very same things even as an adult.  I pray for forgiveness about something and then find myself right back there doing it over again.  The facts may be different, but I am no different.  Thankfully, God loves us anyway.

The youth are our future.  If we, as Christians, want Christianity to prosper, we have to move.  We cannot sit back and hope that someone else will take action.  Maybe teaching a high school youth group is not your thing, maybe you would be better suited in the younger groups, or maybe you feel like driving the church bus or van is all you can offer, so be it.  There are many, many ways we can be involved and active in our futures.   I get so tired of hearing others complain about how Christians are becoming the minority, I want to stand up and say, "Well, then what are YOU doing about it?"  Get out there and move.  If you're not comfortable with children, there are adults that need Jesus too!!

And like I said at the beginning, my goals are different now.  I just want to change one person's life for the better.  I want them to have Jesus in their heart and know they will experience Heaven.  It's not a notch in my belt, I'm not keeping a tally or anything, but it's what we're all supposed to be doing anyway, right?  The bummer is I may never even know...and maybe that's how it's supposed to be so we don't stop working on people. 

But, you know, if I happen to change your life, preferably for the better, can you let me know...so then I could ease up on myself little:)

Little Black Sambo

I kinda skipped over our Little Black Sambo story.   Remember the book?  I'm not sure if it's even out on the shelves these days.  It's probably not politically correct...but Grandma Great still owns my dad's childhood copy, which she read to us grandkids and now to my kids.  My kids know it nearly by heart. 

A couple years ago in May, we were at Jay's parents house and the neighbor guy, we called him crazy Mark, handed my kids two kittens, literally.  He gave them each a kitten and told them to take them home.  Who does that to a mother?   Crazy Mark, that's who... So off we went with a solid black kitten and a yellow/white tiger-stripped kitten.  Fortunately, we pawned the yellow kitten off on our friends.  We kept the black kitten and my kids named him Little Black Sambo. 

Sambo was so tiny and estimated to be only about five weeks old.  We thought this annoying suckling sound and his pawing would subside, but they never did, ever.  It was very strange.  You would be sitting there and he would start sucking on your pant leg.  Weird, very weird. My mom kept him one time while we were away for a week...she said never again, that cat is weird.  I know, he fit right in with our zoo.

Meepie, our older cat, hated Little Black Sambo with all his might, and of course, Little Black Sambo was intrigued by the mighty Meepie.  He followed him everywhere and tried to play with him.  Meepie wanted none of it.  They co-existed but it was not peaceful.

We started noticing that stuffed animals would be in the living room randomly but we didn't know how or why.  The kids denied it, but that wasn't anything unusual...they deny everything.  One night when Jay was working and I was up watching TV in the living room, out of the corner of my eye I saw this stuffed animal move across the carpet...it was crazy.  Behind this huge stuffed bear was Little Black Sambo, you couldn't even see him he was so small.  Hilarious.  He was the one carrying those stuffed animals around every night.  Too cute.  Sambo would sometimes talk to you, which was adorable, and he could catch flies.  He was a great cat.  He was absolutely humongous by the time he hit the two year mark in April of 2010. 

In late October of last year, I thought I heard the strangest sound during the night, Jay did too.  Turns out it was Sambo.  He was sick and in pain.  He had developed a urinary tract infection, which apparently is common in large male cats.  He spent a week at the vet on a catheter and they sent him home.  He was home about 36 hours when I took him back and told them he was not well and that they needed to put him to sleep.  I felt horrible about dropping him off, but it would not get better.  It was so sad.  I could not have a cat that couldn't hold his urine and/or was in severe pain.

Crazy thing, Meepie came out of his depression.  He was a new man.  We didn't realize how much he hated Little Black Sambo...but we sure do miss him anyway:)

I can remember...

I can remember that in Fifth Grade, our teacher, Mr. Liggett, brought a TV in and we watched the broadcast of the space shuttle, Challenger, as it lifted off.  We saw it all...the explosion.  I can remember sitting there in disbelief.  Now I wonder what Mr. Liggett felt, that certainly wasn't what Mr. Liggett had planned for us that day.  I can't really remember much more about it than that and I'm not sure if I really soaked it all in.  But I do remember that event.

I can still remember where I was when one of my best friends told me her parents were getting a divorce.  I think we were in Junior High School.  We were standing on Main Street walking back to the high school.  I can picture the very spot on the sidewalk.  Up until that point, none of my friends' parents had divorced.  It was unheard of.  Even going on through high school, I can't recall anyone else's parents getting divorced.  That is not to say it didn't happen, it just wasn't happening to anyone real close to me...But I remember everything about her telling me.

I can remember the day my grandpa K. died.  My grandpa had been in the hospital and was very bad.  Arrangements had been made for him to come home with a hospital bed and probably Hospice (although I don't recall that, they probably didn't tell me).  I stopped in at my Grandma's house and the phone rang.  She was getting ready to go over to the hospital and was in the bathroom putting on her bright red lipstick.  I answered the phone.  They told me Grandpa had died.  I remember how I did not handle the situation very well.  I walked into the doorway of the bathroom and told my Grandma he had died and turned around and walked away.  How awful I was.  I didn't know how to handle it.  I regret terribly that moment. 

I can remember where I was when my mother called me on Sept 11, 2001.  I had just dropped my 1 yr old daughter off with her to babysit for the day while I went to work.  I had a 45 minute drive.  I was halfway there.  I was surprised to see her calling already.  She told me something crazy was happening and she was watching it on TV, had I heard it on the radio?  No.  It was hard for me to follow what she was telling me.  I didn't get it...until I got to work and turned on my computer.

I can remember when the call came that my cousin, Lee Ann, had been killed in a car accident the night before.  Hit head-on by a drunk driver in the rain.  She died instantly.  She was married and left behind two small sons.  I was standing in my daughter's bedroom.  No one was home.  I sat down on her bed and cried, then called my cousin I call Danielle.  It was devastating.  I wasn't super close to Lee Ann, but I had great memories with her at the fair each summer.  She left behind a husband and two boys that adored her.  My heart broke for them.

I can remember just a few years ago being away at a murder trial for a couple days and being handed a note during court.  It told me to call my dad.  Then I got another note to call home.  I knew it was serious.  My friend's dad had died suddenly of a massive heart attack.  He was barely 51 (I think).  It was devastating.  I remember sitting in our bailiff's car in the Pizza Hut parking lot during lunch crying on the phone with my friend.  I remember how we were both just sobbing hysterically.  I remember making the decision to stay and work the trial one more day instead of going home to be with her.  Almost immediately, I regretted that decision.

Isn't it funny how our minds will go back to a particular event and recall the exact circumstances of that moment.  I could go on and on describing moments like these.  I'm sure you can too.  It's amazing how our mind stores those images and feelings forever.  I suppose they are moments we're not supposed to forget.  For me, some of them come with life lessons.  I know that in the future given the same situation of being told someone has died and telling their most beloved the heartbreaking news, I will not just walk away.  I know that in the future I will drop what I'm doing if I can and go be at my friend's side during a heartbreaking ordeal.  We live and learn...