Memorial Day Adventures Part II

I bet you were wondering all night if we ever made it to the Little Grand Canyon, didn't you?  You were just hanging on by the seat of your pants...ha.  If you are reading this and didn't catch Part I, you may want to go back a day and read it first.  You know I get a little wordy sometimes, so I decided to make two posts out of our fun-filled Memorial Day Adventures.

We had just finished a little pit stop on a bench and headed onward.  Lane and I decided to take the lead and figured out it was much easier to run down the hilly trail then walk and hold yourself back...so we did.  Jay and Madolyn walked.  They are the weak ones...haha...actually they both have ankle issues and Madolyn needed to be careful with her ankle.  We had just topped a little hill on the trail when I could see what looked like a humongous mountain of rock, but it was hard to see it from this angle...Lane and I moved ahead to a look-out and that was it.  There was a nice railing and a small bench and a ledge that was very wooded obstructing view from almost any angle.  I had a better view of that rock up the hill a bit.  We were so disappointed.  How could THIS be what we came to see?  It was pitiful.  And I felt really bad for the lady in the super cute flip-flops!  The trail continued to the right and downward and we thought, why not? 

Jay kept telling me he had seen a picture online and this was not it.  There had to be more, but what a disappointment to the folks wanting to taking the 'easy' trail and see something beautiful.  So there's a tip for you...if you want a leisurely walk through the woods on a nicely maintained path, there you go (and you may want to come at a different season of the year).  If you want to see what they call the Little Grand Canyon, you better get some good shoes on and continue on into the great unknown...which is what we did.  I was suddenly thankful I had brought along the water bottle.

 As the trail progressed, it was evident why this was the moderate or difficult part of the trail.  Wow.  I'm glad I'm young (yes, hush) because I was having plenty of trouble, I can only imagine how it would feel if I was out of shape (oh, who am I kidding, I was dying.)  The kids were great.  They complained a few times, but their comments were very similar to ones floating through my mind so I didn't get after them.  We just forged ahead...and finally, we came to something that looked like something neat...and started crawling around on rocks.  I must say it was beautiful.

It was at about this point that somehow, although I was standing completely still (basically) I slipped and fell flat on my butt.  I was so scared for a split second.   I thought my right wrist was going to snap in two, which I threw down to break my fall.  Ugh.  Thankfully, it didn't break.  That would not go over so well with work, you know.  But it did scare me into being much more careful and watching my kids like a hawk!  The rock had some moisture on it which made it pretty slippery.  I know the pictures just don't capture the enormity of the rocks at all, but I did my best.

The picture to the right is of a waterfall (only minus the water) and I bet it is absolutely beautiful when the water is flowing freely.  I hear this place is beautiful in the spring as long as there isn't a bunch of water.  If there had been a lot of water, it would have been tricky to maneuver around safely.

I'm telling you by the time we started back towards home base, we were pooped.  I was feeling pretty good until we started the uphill climb.  It was exhausting.  There wasn't anything difficult about it except it was all uphill.  The light at the end of the tunnel was knowing we were nearing the finish line! 

On our way up, we met an older couple taking a break on their way down.  They were smoking.  Honestly, I can't understand how anyone enjoys smoking, but besides that, how on earth could they make that trek with smoker lungs?!  They asked us how much further it was, etc, we (as kind as possible) encouraged them to turn around.  They were making comments about how they had hills like this where they lived and it was nothing...Well, that may be true from what they had seen so far, but they hadn't had a glimpse of the real beauty hidden at the bottom...and their number one concern, rattlesnakes...which, up to that point, I hadn't given a bit of thought.  Nice.

Signs like the one to the left would have been helpful as we drove around aimlessly.  This one was posted towards the end of the trail (at least the end to us).  The little white diamond with "LGC" on it, which is underneath the sign, were the markers for the trail.  Thankfully, they were scattered throughout the journey, although it was marked pretty well.

When we finally reached the finish line and had a break, we got in the car and headed back out.  It was pretty similar to trying to get there in the first place, a bunch of driving on hilly, winding roads, circling back and around in every direction.  We were supposed to meet my parents at Lambert's in 90 minutes, and we did finally get to the main route, but boy, did it take some persistence.  The kids were silent the whole drive.  We were pooped out and ready for a hearty meal.  Good thing we exerted all that energy and burnt so many calories...have you ever eaten at a Lambert's?!  Mmmm.

So after eating we headed back to Illinois, drove around Giant City State Park, which we've explored a little in the past, and headed home.  All in all it was a great day.  Our kids were very good and real troopers.  I'm so glad they enjoy doing stuff like that with their weird parents.  We hope that is just a preview for our vacation to Colorado which is nearing!  I realize last night that I should've been doing stuff like this earlier to prepare my legs for the hiking we hope to do.

If you're looking for some good family fun, without spending a lot of money, drive a couple hours south and enjoy the beauty of Southern Illinois and the Shawnee Forest.  It is worth it...(and we found gas for $3.33 a gallon!)

Memorial Day Adventures Part I

Jay worked the weekend so we were saving up our holiday fun for Monday, Memorial Day.  Last year we 'discovered' how cool southern Illinois was on an impromptu day trip and were going to head that way again.  But after Jay did some research, we headed to the other side of southern Illinois and explored a bit over there.  Our original intention was to eat the BEST FISH catfish EVER at the floating River Restaurant in Elizabethtown, Illinois, but we're trying to see new things and opted to go south and a little west...which has perks.

My grandparent's grave stones.

My grandparents (on my mom's side) are buried in a tiny little town just off of Interstate 57 in Ullin, Illinois.  By traveling that direction instead of just going straight south, I was able to stop and visit the grave sites of my grandparents.  Good deal.  My parents were heading down there to visit some cemeteries, and because it's soo far south, and Lambert's Resturaunt, 'Home of the Throwed Rolls' is just across the state line in Sikeston, Missouri, well, you know we had to drive a little further and meet up with them for a late lunch.  Y-U-M-M-Y.

But onto the in-between stuff...you know I have to mention the food first :)  We drove down and over to Carbondale and then went a little south.  That is the northern tip of the Shawnee National Forest.  Jay had found two places online that he wanted to find.  The Ponoma Natural Bridge and the Little Grand Canyon.  I had not heard of either.  The Ponoma Natural Bridge was on the map, which was helpful.  The Little Grand Canyon (LGC for short) was not, and I don't really understand that, but anyway...



We are standing on the natural bridge.



There is one thing you need to know about southern Illinois before heading out in search of things...the roads are insane.  They go up and down and turn and twist and you don't go the same direction for more than a quarter mile before turning again.  There is no STRAIGHT shot to anyplace fun to see.  It's crazy.  We find a sign for the Ponoma Natural Bridge which is pointing right (north) and it says 3 miles.  We go.  We drive a gravel road that twists and turns and there are no signs...even if there is a fork in the road...you just follow the most cared for road, I guess...and finally after what seemed like forever, there it was:  a picnic table and trash bin with a parking area.  Apparently, we had found the Natural Bridge site.  We followed the trail, which was short and sweet, and found the natural bridge.  It is a bridge that is basically made from large rocks, and it is natural, of course.  It is hard to make out in the pictures because of all the growth, but it was neat.  I love seeing green, but it may be easier to see when there isn't as much growth.  If you can tell, we are standing on top of the bridge.  It is hard to make out, but it is clear underneath there and there's plenty of room for passing under the bridge.  Jay is standing up above us (obviously) looking down.  We were trying to get a picture that showed the whole bridge.  It was tough.

Cool.  We had seen site number one and it only took about 40 minutes.  We headed back out to follow the signs to the Little Grand Canyon.  At the T-road where we had seen the sign indicating that the natural bridge was 3 miles to the right (north), there was also a sign that said LGC was 10 miles to the left (south).  Got it.  We go back and follow that sign...which takes us south about a quarter mile and then west and then north and then back east, and on and on and on.  I must mention this is serious wine and vineyard country.  We kind of figured out at the end of all this endless driving in circles, that the intent of the locals is for you to pass through and see every single vineyard and winery.  Got it.  Only thing...they were all closed. 

After driving nearly 25 minutes, and I am not joking, from the sign that said it was ten miles...we finally come to another T-road indicating that there is yet another winery to the right.  There is no sign telling us to turn left for the LGC but that is what we decided to do on a hunch...and lo and behold, there was a parking area with a picnic table, trash can and an added bonus, the bathrooms!!  We studied the map outlining the hike to the Little Grand Canyon and decided to take the easy and moderate trails highlighted in blue.  It mentioned 30-45 minutes to the site.  Okay, gotcha.  I took a water bottle with me that was about half full and my camera and off we went down the 'blue' trail.

It was a very well-maintained path.  Nice and wide.  As I mentioned earlier, this time of year there is quite a bit of green growth everywhere.  It was no different at the LGC locale.  Unfortunately for the rest of my family, a lot of that growth included poison ivy.  Jay kept hollering back "DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING GREEN" to all of us...and I know he meant well and it was a really good idea, in theory, but it was IMPOSSIBLE.  It was everywhere.  I would expect at least one person in our family will need a shot by the end of the week...and I'm not kidding.  When Jay and Madolyn get poison, they get it everywhere.  It won't be pretty.  I usually don't get poison, but won't be a bit surprised if I don't end up with it. 

We came to the first bench and sat down.  We'd only been on the trail about 10-15 minutes.  It is mid-morning and already pretty warm.  We decide to sit and rest a few minutes.  A lady wearing a cute outfit with matching adorable flip-flops had come up behind us and we thought we'd let her have a chance to pass us if she wanted to.  She stopped to chat with us instead.  She was curious about how far it was to the look-out.  We thought another 15 minutes or so.  I commented on her really cute flip-flops...she mentioned they may not be the right shoes for this trek, I thoroughly agreed, but she was here and wanted to see this beauty of nature.  So did we.  Off we went.



I think I'm going to have to make this a two-parter...number one, so you don't get bored with my post; and number two, I want to keep you in suspense...ha! So stay tuned for the rest of the story...

Appointment with the repo man.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.  As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away.  That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man.  Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left.  Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left.  

“Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.  But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into.  So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him."   Matthew 24:36-44 (NIV)

I just finished reading a really good Christian thriller on my Nook called "Scream" by Mike Dellosso.  The thought of a horror or thriller-type book that is Christian makes me kinda chuckle, but it was really good and I couldn't wait to finish it.  It had a very strong message concerning our salvation and knowing whether you will end up in heaven or hell.  How living like a Christian doesn't mean you are one and that you will go to heaven.  So as I was thinking of something to write, I couldn't quit thinking about this book...and how we never know what day will be our last.  We absolutely have to be ready at any given moment for our "appointment with the repo man," as Dellosso puts it. 

A while back I had a youth ask me what they should tell a friend who had questioned Christianity and salvation and about how they kinda wanted to live a certain way and then LATER make that salvation decision.  Although it may work out for some people like that, it's not practical to believe that you can put off accepting Christ until you're good and ready. 

First of all, accepting Christ has to be REAL.  God knows whether your heart is in the process.  You can say the words to accept Christ fifty times, but if they sincerely aren't heartfelt, He knows this.  You cannot fake accepting Christ.  You can't do it.  We cannot fool God.  We can't hide our true feelings from him.  Sometimes it is sort of planned, say if you decided, okay, I want to get saved at church today in front of my church family; as long as your heart is in it, cool.  But a lot of times, it is a spontaneous moment.  Maybe something that's been gnawing at your heart, and you've been pushing it aside until you hear that one thing that breaks you down and you give in.  Awesome.  (Those are some of the best moments to share with someone!)

I've never read anywhere in the bible that your life plan should follow something like this:   Okay, I will live like I want through high school and college (fast and furious), find someone to marry, continuing to live life my way, and eventually, when I've decided it's time to settle down and be serious, THEN I'll accept the Lord into my heart, start attending and serving a church, and live like a Christian.  Sounds peachy, but tell that perfect little life plan to someone who has lost a loved-one suddenly, without warning, without a moment to do that one thing they were waiting until later to do.

The second thing is that if setting a date for our salvation was the way it was supposed to be, can you imagine how people would be living?  Haha, maybe like most of the world already, I guess.  But just thinking in my small community, if everyone was living wildly, without any morals, rules or compassion for others, smothered in deceit and corruption, boy, wouldn't that be a wonderful community to raise a family in?!  I know I'm naive and my little world is not perfect, but I would like to think that it could certainly be a LOT worse if most people truly didn't care at all.  We aren't supposed to know when our time is up because if we did, a lot of us would choose to live a very careless/carefree and selfish lifestyle.

God has given us the free will to make the choice for ourselves.  Salvation is free.  It doesn't cost us a single penny.  Jesus already paid the debt for us...for ALL of us.  We just have to make the choice.  Don't be afraid to make that choice.  Don't worry about things that you will have to 'give up' to accept Jesus.  You will be gaining so much more than you will ever lose.  We don't know, and we're not supposed to know, when our time here is done.  We just have to be prepared.   Read that scripture again, I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the one standing in the field alone.

Soak it up.

If you're like me, there are certain things that I just have to experience for myself.  Someone can say to me, oh, don't waste your time going there, but if I have my heart set on going there, no one is going to tell me different.  I go, it stinks.  Shoot.  I should've taken their advice. 

When you have kids all you ever hear is, Don't wish your life away, Some day you'll wish your kids were young again, etc.  But at the time you're hearing all of this great advice, you're thinking, Ha, I just want them to sleep through the night, be able to walk or stop crying, it'll be so much easier when they're five or ten or 16, and on and on.  Each new age or phase brings about a new stage that we beg for.  Vicious cycle!

School is out, summer has begun.  Both kids are in summer league ball, which means we have ball games a few nights a week.  Madolyn is involved in a few other things.  Lane's not super busy yet, but we're already constantly on the go.  (I can only imagine what it's like with more than two kids!)  And I don't necessarily mind it because I like to be on the go.  Sometimes staying at home makes me crazy.  Sometimes I can't wait for one night, one night where I don't have to leave the house after work, and then I'm 'bored' and I have to force myself not to go somewhere.  Every now and then I wish that I had some alone time; only when I get the alone time, I don't like it...at all. 

I know this is the phase of my life that I am in with busy, active kids and I don't necessarily mind it.  I look forward to the different seasons of volleyball, football, basketball, baseball/softball, fairs, church camp, etc., we will go through.  (Maybe it will help keep young!)

As I was visiting over my lunch hour with my grandma the other day, she said something that I just can't quit thinking about, and it's nothing mind-blowing, it's nothing I haven't heard before from several people, it's nothing that took scientific research.  I was telling her about the four ball games this week, the cheerleading clinics and all the running, her response, without hesitation, was, "Soak it up, Sarah.  Soak it up.  Let everything else go."  For some reason hearing those words from my almost-94-yr-old grandma clicked with me.  She went on to tell me not to worry about the house and all, just to run and do for the kids.  The house will wait.  I know that she's right.

I have heard this advice from others, I've read devotions about it, I have read tips on how to live through these busy seasons, but hearing it from a lady that always had a neat and tidy house and seemed to have everything in order meant something.  She has almost 94 years to base that bit of advice on.  I'm quite certain that my mom and my mother-in-law (and many other mothers and grandmothers out there) probably would have the same bit of advice.  I'm thinking I may actually try to follow it...instead of waiting until this phase is over and realizing they were right.  (And it's just what I needed to hear, an excuse not to do so much housework:)  Soak it up, my friends.

Morning walks

In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly.  Psalm 5:3 (NIV)


I think I've mentioned before how I absolutely love early-morning walks.  Each year, after the long cold, dark and dreary winter, I count the days until the time change and more daylight so I can get up early and go for a walk before work.  Early-morning walks fit my schedule perfect too.  It doesn't interfere with anything else I need to do (except extra shut-eye), and if I go ahead and get that exercise in, I can't find excuses later in the day for doing it.  Something always comes up that needs my attention and exercise takes a backseat.

During the winter season and shorter days, I'm very thankful that a local church with a large gym/fellowship hall is open during the day for walking.  At lunchtime, I will grab my Nook, put my tennis shoes on and head to their gym for a quick 30 minute walk.  I love it because I can read my Nook while walking.  Makes the time pass too.  And yes, I can read my Nook and walk without bumping into walls or tripping over myself.  I often look forward to that 30 minutes of uninterrupted reading...and the added bonus is the exercise.

So back to my point...early-morning walks and why I love them.  I love the peacefulness I feel when I'm out and about on a "deserted country road" (as a Facebook friend posted), it's just me and God...and two, three, four or five dogs.  (Not kidding, I call it my dog parade.)  I use that time to say my daily prayer and just talk to God a bit...(when I'm not yelling at a dog.)  I love the sun just beginning to shine and the cool air, even when it's blazing hot already in July.  I love to see the crops sprout out of the ground and start growing. 

I never regret getting up earlier than I need to and going on my early-morning walk.  Never.  It is a great time of reflection and prayer.  It helps me start my day on the right foot.  I would encourage you to give an early-morning walk a try.  If you find yourself needing just 30 minutes to start your day, soaking up God's creation and breathing fresh morning air, get up a little earlier than normal and lace up those tennis shoes.  Not only will you get some exercise out of the way, you'll feel better about the day ahead of you.  I bet you will love it too.

Just in the nick of time

Last weekend one of Jay's cousins got married in St. Louis.  This was Jay's weekend to work, so he stayed home, the kids left on Friday and went down with my in-laws and then after working at the multi-family yard sale we had committed to, I drove down on Saturday.  The wedding was to start at 2:00.  I got ready and left at 10:50 which, in my mind, was plenty of time.  And if you know me, I have a little trouble with allowing myself enough time for things.

So I decide to treat myself to a gas station Diet Pepsi and hit the highway for the big city.  I wasn't doing too bad until just on the other side of Vandalia, I think it was...my eyes got very heavy and I was having major problems keeping them open.  (I had gotten up early, was by myself, the sun was warm, etc.)  I figured I had plenty of time to pull over and take a little catnap instead of crashing into someone or something.  (I used to do this on the way to court reporting school, little naps along a country road.)  I pulled into a Long John Silver's parking lot and find a spot in the shade.  I leaned my seat back, kept my car running because it was so warm and closed my eyes.  About 20 minutes later, Lane called and woke me up...sort of.  I was basically waking up anyway, but I was glad for that extra jolt.  I felt much better and headed back out on the interstate. 

I'm not super comfortable driving in the city.  I had directions and an address I could punch into the GPS if necessary.  All the festivities were at one hotel so once I got there, I didn't have to leave.  I wasn't anticipating trouble, but you never know.  Just as I was about to cross the river, the cars stopped.  Apparently up ahead a lane was shutdown and everyone was merging together.  Ugh.  Thankfully there wasn't a Cardinal's game because I know it would've been worse.

I called my in-laws.  They thought it would take me about 30 minutes from the river.  Joy, it was already 1:35.  There was no way I was going to make it by 2:00.  I told them to go on down to the wedding (thankfully, it was at the hotel) and I would just get changed and come straight in.  I pressed on.

I make it to my exit and turn off.  I pull up to the light to make a left which will take me straight to the hotel, and I hear sirens.  Now, I had been clipping along pretty good, but I had not been driving like a mad woman...the sirens freaked me out for a second.  I look and see it's only a firetruck...with its lights and sirens on.  Oh, well, I go ahead and make my turn because there was plenty of time for me to go in front of the truck, and there is NO way it's going the same place I am, right?  I kinda chuckled to myself, that would make a great story, wouldn't it?  Firetrucks at your wedding!  haha.

At 2:05 I pull on into the hotel parking lot and see two police cars, then realize that that firetruck with the lights and sirens really is coming to the same place I am.  Good grief.  I park quickly, kick off my shoes, jump in the backseat, take my clothes off (yes, right there in the parking lot), throw a dress over my head, slip into my heels, grab my keys, lock the car and dart for the door.  The firetruck and police cars are blocking the main entrance so I go to a side door, walk in, ask where the "Pavilion" is and the confused-looking guy tells me he has no idea.  I go back outside and run past the police cars into the main entrance, tell the front desk lady that I'm late for a wedding in the Pavilion, she points me down a hallway and tells me to turn right into a really long tunnel/hallway thing that will take me to it.  Cool.

At this point I had decided, I've been to a zillion weddings, they're all pretty much the same and it's okay if I miss a little bit...but I run down this really long tunnel/hallway thing anyway and turn the corner where a few guys in tuxedos are standing.  They tell me to go on in, the wedding hasn't started.  Oh, wow, I can't believe my luck!  I go on up to the doorway and take a step...wow, again, I'm standing at the front next to the piano facing everyone.  I duck back inside and tell the fellas I'm not going in that door...they tell me it's fine, I evaluate my options (which are zero), slip on inside and grab a chair on the bride's side.  Technically, I'm with the groom, but I didn't figure anyone would make me move.  My kids were waving at me and trying to get me to come sit with them, but there was no way I was crossing the runner!

I take a deep breath and watch the wedding unfold.  I was delighted to find that Jay's crazy Uncle Doug was officiating the ceremony.  I didn't realize that he was, and it was a nice surprise.  He kept it very light and funny.  The bride was beautiful and all was well.  I was just so relieved to be there...ahhh.

After the ceremony everyone is standing around talking, I'm telling them they would not believe it, but there were firetrucks and police outside and how I nearly missed the wedding, couldn't believe it hadn't started by the time I got here, etc.  Funny thing, they did believe it...the firetruck and police cars were there because about six of Jay's extended family members were stuck in the elevator and had been for 15 or 20 minutes!!  They were trying to delay the wedding a little to give them time to get out.  I overheard the groom say something like, "I was so nervous and just wanted to get it started, and if it had only been like one or two of the family, I would've went on, but I couldn't start without all of them."  Thank you, Wes!  And thanks to the elevator fiasco, I made it to the wedding just in the nick of time:)

Get out of my way...

This story came to mind a while back and I didn't think I had shared it before.  Hopefully there is a statute of limitations on parenting mishaps...

I remember it was a nice day and it must have been a Saturday.  The kids and I were at home.  I'm going to guess that Lane was maybe three or four and Madolyn was about seven.  Someone Jay worked with at the time (and his wife) had come up to go fishing at our pond (right in the back yard).  I was cleaning the house.  The kids were outside.  You know how that goes...of course, they're outside and visible because there are 'guests' over.  Madolyn asked if she could ride her fourwheeler in the yard; I said sure, just be careful, blah, blah, blah.  I did forget one specific piece of advice...which I'll get to here shortly.

I had the inside doors open and I could watch from the living room/kitchen area and look out windows at almost every direction to keep an eye on Madolyn and Lane.  Also, listening for the engine of the fourwheeler was something I paid attention to.  Of course, when you're vacuuming, it's hard to hear much over that noise...

Pretty soon Madolyn comes barging in the house from the garage and she's screaming.  I can also hear Lane screaming.  They're both hysterical, and although I haven't seen Lane yet, I can make out from the shouting that Lane is bleeding...and that Madolyn had run over him with the fourwheeler.  (That would be the rule I forgot to mention specifically...DO NOT RUN OVER YOUR BROTHER WITH YOUR FOURWHEELER.)  Silly me.

I reach Lane and see that, yes, he is bleeding from the mouth, but after rinsing the blood off (and there wasn't really that much, honestly) there was no major damage.  His teeth weren't loose or missing.  There was no gaping wound anywhere.  No bones protruding.  Awesome.  Just lots of tears and hysteria (from both of them.)

After getting everyone calmed down (myself included) I asked for details...such as, Why did you run over your brother with the fourwheeler?   Simple answer:  He would not get out of the way and I told him to move or I would hit him.  Oh, well, if that's what happened...geesh.

All the while, I'm thinking that this couple outside fishing must think I'm absolutely the worst mother ever.  I'm not outside watching every move my kids make, letting them ride ATV's without serious supervision, etc.  I did holler out to them that no one had any major damage, just in case they were wondering. 

Fortunately no serious injuries...and maybe a little lesson learned there.  Madolyn was crying almost as hard as Lane.  You gotta love it. 

He's just special...and precious

I don't think I'll ever run out of Hank the Tank II stories...I figure as long as we keep him alive, you'll be hearing about him.  This weekend, Jay got the electric fence hooked up for the horses so they can graze again.  This is a new venture for us.  We've had fence around our place, but not the electric kind.

Jay bought the fence that is portable and easy-to-install...of course, I can say that because I had nothing to do with putting it up...it's three strands of this thick white fencing.  (I think it looks like the webbing on a lawnchair.)  You string it up on the posts and plug it into a fence charger and it's LIVE. 

Jay wanted to show us how to turn it off and on so that we can get in and out if we need to so we all loaded up on the golf cart and headed back there.  Abby and Hank followed us.  He demonstrated the charger and how you can hear it ticking and the little light glows, etc.  It's hot with power and ready to go.  Abby bumps into it and yelps.  Ouch, she says.  We all kinda laugh and said Hank should probably get zapped so he would realize not to get near it.

He gets right up next to it, you think his tail is going to nip it any second, nope.  He somehow misses it with every swing.  Finally, the kids decide to throw a stick onto the other side of the fencing.  (I know, they're cruel but we didn't stop them.)  Hank barrels under the fencing without a second's hesitation and grabs the stick.  He comes right back through, crawling under neath the lowest strand.  You can hear the faint zap-zap noise as he makes contact, but again, there's no response.  He drops the stick and kinda looks back like, hmm, that was weird. Nothing more. 

Abby, in that two-minute window, apparently forgot that the white thick strand had zapped her already because she walked right up to it and touched it with her nose.  Zap.  She yelped and crawled under the golf cart.  This totally cracked the kids up because Abby was acting like it was just awful and Hank could have cared less.  We often tease that Hank isn't very smart...really.  (Don't tell him this, but I think he may be one of the dumbest Labs we've ever had.)

Again, we tried the stick trick and again Hank was not deterred, although he did give it a secondlook as he passed through, like hmm, what was that?  No yelping, no running or hiding.  Incredible.  Jay noticed this morning that Woody the horse would not get near it, so obviously he has figured it out.  Maybe Hank has a higher pain tolerance than the other animals (which explains his behavior after I drove over him a few months ago with both tires.)    One thing is for certain, Hank the Tank II is definitely one-of-a-kind...he's special and precious.

Merchant ship anyone?

She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.  Proverbs 31:14 (NIV)

Lately, I've been studying the Proverbs 31 woman.  Wow, does she set the mark high or what?  Everyone needs a goal, right?  Haha.  So as I go through this study, I realize my number one frustration at home is food and meals, which I know to many may seem ridiculous or minor.  (And I know most who follow my blog would probably think my number one frustration is animals and pets, but it isn't.)

I was/am a picky eater.  My kids are pretty picky eaters, and I can't fault them necessarily...but it seems like no matter what I try, they want to eat something else.  I realize part of this could be a control factor, I get that.  And I know, I know, either they eat what we're having or they go to bed hungry.  Right, I got it.   But as an eater, I just can't imagine doing that because I know I would get the shakes and have a bad headache, etc...and that I'd be the one up in the middle of the night because someone has a stomach ache, only it's really that they're starving because they refused to eat what was on the menu.

Because of this frustration, we eat out or on-the-go a lot.  I really wish I was that Proverbs 31 who made every meal from scratch in her kitchen...but I am not and I doubt I ever will be.  I know that we, as a family, need to eat better and could save a ton of money eating at home, but I just can't seem to get there.  We are blessed to have a freezer full of meat so there is just no way we can use the excuse that there's nothing at home to eat.  Not true.

Every now and then I get all organized and focused and I'll cook up a couple meals and freeze them or have them ready to bake and in the fridge.  Last night I made a quick supper and then prepared one for tonight that I just have to warm up and add a vegetable to.  I feel so much better knowing there is a plan for supper at home...because if I don't, and it happens to be a Tuesday, The Greathouse of Pizza in Casey has a special, Two for Tuesdays...and you can get two pizzas for like $13.  It's way too much pizza for us at this point, but how can you turn away a free pizza?  If it's not Tuesday, they have a family special that is only $21 and also plenty of food.

So let's say I do have supper prepared and it's ready to go, I get a call and someone tells me that they're going to stay in town and do this or that instead of coming home before the game or before whatever...of course you are because I have supper ready tonight, which makes me think, "Why do I even bother?" Ahh, they're makin' me crazy.  Or I make something and I can tell by the way someone is pushing it around on their plate that they don't like it.  Arrh!  I have told my family time and time again, please tell me what you want me to make and please feel free to join in on the cooking ANY TIME.  I usually don't get a response.  It is so frustrating.  (I better say this to be fair...Jay will grill things if I ask.)

I used to think I was a bad cook.  I'm not.  I'm a decent cook.  Some things I cook better than others, but I can cook.  I was amazed a few months ago when Madolyn came home from a horse club meeting and when I asked her what she had for supper, she told me a grilled cheese (which Lane & I love and she refuses to eat) and guacamole with crackers (WHAT?  I have NEVER ever seen or heard of her eating any part of an avocado EVER).  I looked at her and said, "Serious?"  Oh, yeah, she loved it, it was the BEST grilled cheese ever.  She went on and on.  Good grief.  I'm glad she ate what was placed before her by another and I'm glad she tried it and likes it, but honestly, I cannot tell you how many times she has refused a grilled cheese sandwich.

When I read the verse above, I just cracked up.  Sometimes I feel like a merchant ship bringing food from afar and then my family looks at it like, "Where on earth did you find this?"  What I really want is for that merchant ship to come sailing into my kitchen bringing the magic food that my family will eat because whatever I seem to load onto it, might as well slip off into the ocean. 

If anyone has any really great tips on meals, let me know.  I have a few trusty dishes but we eat them over and over again...I would like a little bit of a variety!  My merchant ship needs loaded and set to sail :)

Two sides to every story...or three

One of the biggest lessons I've learned from my paid employment as a court reporter is that there are at least two sides to every story and sometimes three or even four.  I know that probably doesn't make sense to you.  But from the many stories I've heard in court during trials or hearings, it's amazing that there can be so many versions of the same event.  And the really strange thing is that a lot of the time, they're all true.

Let me explain.  I'm thinking of a jury trial I did once where there was a good 'ole bar fight.  So you know that the bar was full of people, some of them were probably under the influence, but there were lots of witnesses.  And one by one they told their side of the story, their view of what happened before and after the big fight.  It was amazing because at times, I'd think, okay, wait a minute, there is no way that is the truth, but then another witness would come up and then I'd realize that maybe it was, at least somewhat true.  What I decided was that they all believed what they saw was what happened, but the key was at what point they saw what they said they saw. 

For instance (and I'm totally making part of this up:), witness A saw victim receive a major blow to the head by defendant, it was unprovoked and completely out of the blue.  Witness B saw victim, just three seconds before that blow, slap the behind of the defendant's girlfriend.  Witness A said that victim did nothing to deserve the hit from defendant, but Witness A didn't see the slap of the behind.  Girlfriend says victim had been harassing her, she was telling him to leave her alone and then he slapped her on the rear end.  Her boyfriend (the defendant) saw this and went on attack.  Girlfriend's BFF says that victim and defendant's girlfriend had been flirting and even danced together earlier in the evening. Witness C walks in the bar as the fight is going down and sees the victim kick the defendant, but had not seen anything before the kick.

I know that all sounds confusing, but every single witness testified to what they saw and they swear it is the truth...and it may be what they saw at the time they saw it, but it is not the entire story.  Does that make any sense at all?

I have also found that I will be totally wrapped up and believing in one side's story of a divorce or domestic dispute, thinking that the other person is just awful...and then I'll hear the other side's version.  Ah-ha.  They didn't mention all that 'other' stuff that went on.  Now, I must admit that is not ALWAYS the case.  There are many situations out there where one side is really that awful, but I've come to discover that many like to sugarcoat their side.  But I guess that's probably the case in a lot of things, isn't it?

Whenever I'm asked about my job and the things that I've learned from it, this is probably about at the top of the list.  I used to think everything I read or heard was THE TRUTH...but now I realize that it's not.  It may be the truth as one person sees or interprets it, but it may not be the whole story.  My kids don't realize it, but this is one reason I grill them on everything when they're telling me a story about something that happened.  (Jay calls it my cross examination.)  I can't help it.  I love my kids and want to believe they'll always tell me the truth, but I know they are kids and sometimes their view is skewed...as mine can be when it comes to those two kiddos. 

As I read something in the newspaper or see a post online or on Facebook that I know maybe a little more about than others because of my position, it is hard not to shout out, "That's not exactly the whole story," and I have commented before that just because you read something on the FRONT PAGE of the newspaper doesn't mean it's the complete truth.  Ahhh, I have to bite my tongue.  Actually, I'm fortunate to still have a tongue because working in my home county really makes it a bit harder for me than working two counties away.

So just remember in the future that there are two sides to every story, or three, or four.  (I still have to remind myself of this too when I want to jump to a conclusion, I guess that's why I'm not a judge!)

Well, I'm still alive

after giving up the Diet Pepsi, that is.  I tried to go back and look, did I not write about giving up the D.P.?  I can't seem to find it anywhere...I was curious how long it had been.  Well, anyway, I'm still alive!  Awesome, huh?  I have cut the cord on the 32-ounce Styrofoam cup, fountain machine Diet Pepsi from the local gas station and I have survived!  It's a miracle!

I had decided that my addiction had gotten completely out of control.  Completely.  We live seven miles south of town and on a weekend, I would make that 14-mile roundtrip just to buy a pop at the gas station, and if they were out, it would really irk me and I would drive to the next town over to get one.  Can you say Ridiculous?  Yep.

So I knew that I would suffer some major caffeine-withdraw headaches, and although I know that caffeine is absolutely not good for me, I didn't give up the caffeine...yet.  I have basically substituted one caffeine-filled drink for another, BUT I'm not going to let that bring me down.  I now skip my morning fix from the local gas station and have myself a bottle of water mixed with a Crystal Lite Sugar-Free Caffeine packet!  I actually do drink two of them every day before lunch, BUT I'm alive without the Diet Pepsi! 

I am not totally boycotting the yummy D.P.  I will still order it to eat with a meal at a restaurant, or if we're on a roadtrip or something, I may get one, but it's no longer something I'm dependent upon.  And I love it.  I have found that it's not quite as tasty as I remember it being too, which helps with the cravings!  Do I notice any major changes in myself without the pop?  Nope.  Not a one.  Maybe I would if I gave up caffeine altogether, but I was kinda hoping for some life-altering change that would make me never want to go back to drinking so much pop again.  Oh well, I'm a-okay without it regardless.

I am saving myself $1.06 every morning plus, because sometimes I would go back for more pop later in the day.  I know I'm buying the Crystal Lite packets, but they're pretty inexpensive.  I always have bought water bottles so that wasn't really an added cost.  Another perk is the four minutes I save each morning by not stopping at the local gas station...I say four, but that is if I can get in and out without visiting...and if you know me, that doesn't happen very often. 

So I would encourage you, if there is something you feel you should cut out of your daily routine and you're afraid of what will happen after giving it up, go for it.  If I can do it, You can do it.  Maybe someday I'll put the nix on the caffeine too...but right now I'm just happy that I'm still alive!

St. Jude Trail Ride

This past Saturday was the annual St. Jude Trail Ride sponsored by the local 4H Horse Club.  In the past, it has been in the late summer or early fall, but this year they thought they would try something different.  Friday night there was a ham & bean dinner at the Martinsville Arts Hall with live entertainment by the Willow Creek Praise Band and the Clark County 4H Jazz Band.  We had a decent turn-out, about the right amount of ham & beans, beautiful weather and absolutely awesome music!   I must say I am partial to the Willow Creek Praise Band because I can call them my own:)  They just get better and better.  The Jazz Band, I had never heard before, sounded wonderful.  They are a very talented group of all ages, and I was impressed.

Some of us camped out behind (or in) the beef/dairy barns on Friday night.  Early Saturday morning we were up and at it getting our horses ready to go.  I ended up riding my "other daughter" Grace's horse, Roxie.  She is stout and sturdy and we got along just fine, although I must say she was a little rough on me.  My back still hurts.  Yikes.  Jay and Lane followed along on the golf cart.  After three hours, I decided Jay's ankle needed a break, and I conned him into swapping places with me.  I pushed the gas pedal the last hour and fifteen minutes.  I hated for him to miss out...

There were two horse wagons with riders, a leading truck and trailer and a tailing truck and trailer and our golf cart.  Everyone else was on a horse.  I think we had about 50 people in total, maybe 35 horse back riders.  It was a beautiful day and there were no major incidents.



Me & Roxie

 Trivia question:  How long does it take to ride a horse to Moonshine from the fairgrounds going down the backroads?  Answer:  A long time = 4.15 hours.  That's right, it was a looong ten-miles!  Thankfully, we had called ahead our order and didn't have to wait long for our burgers.  I'm sure the motorcycle riders were thrilled when we barged in on our horses and got our sandwiches first!! 

As I said, Roxie and I got along just fine.  She didn't want to stray too far away from her BFF, Okie (who is right next to us in this picture) but it didn't really become a major problem.



I am not the one going the wrong direction.

 As usual, I'm focused and trying to do what I can to remain calm and collected.  As usual, my girls are doing whatever they want to on their horses and their horses don't seem to care.  I'm not sure how that works really because I have tried riding Madolyn's horse, Woody, and he and I do not gel at all.  As you can see in this picture...the girls are riding backwards...and the horses don't give a rip.  Unbelievable to me.  I can barely get Woody to walk in a straight line.  It is so frustrating.

So anyway, we ate our yummy Moonshine burgers and decided that we were all pooped.  Thankfully, we had a large trailer there and a truck.  We loaded up the horses and headed north.  I think overall the Horse Club raised over a thousand dollars for St. Jude.  It was a beautiful weekend and we had a good time.  I can chalk up another successful ride too. 

Oreo

Introducing our latest addition...Oreo, the dwarf hamster!  I had put it off as long as possible.  Yesterday after church, Lane asked if we could go get a hamster replacement for Frankie, R.I.P., and because it was Mother's Day, why not?  On my way out the door, I told Jay that I think we have an animal control problem, and I think the problem with that is ME.  But Lane had his own money, he'd been waiting patiently and I had promised him when we brought home Frankie, if she didn't last, we would get another one.

Do you see some of my problem?  Look at those precious eyes on that little fella.  How can I tell him no?  (Plus, he had given me a home-made Mother's Day card that said he loved my hugs and my favorite food was cake:)  I caved, but secretly I was hoping for a guinea pig.  I had a guinea pig, Floyd, when I was going to court reporting school and he was so great.  I really need to dig up pictures of him and post them.  We have one of him wearing a mini Mexican sombrero, it is hysterical.  Anyway, I was hoping that once he saw the G.P.'s, he'd want one of them instead of a hamster.  No luck, this guy was not deterred.

Lane had told me on the way over that he wanted to name his new hamster, Oreo.  He was hoping to find a black and white one.  I wasn't sure that would be possible, but what do I know?  We finally arrive at the Pet Store and goodness, were they busy.  Mother's Day must be a good day to buy a pet...hhm, wouldn't have thought that.  I found the guinea pigs right off the bat.  There were several of the fat, furry things and I called Lane over.  He took one look and said, "Where are the hamsters?"  Okay, I give. 

We walk over to a huge assortment of Fancy Hamsters.  There are gobs of them lying all over each other and stuffed in their tube.  They were everywhere.  Lane found two black/gray & white ones right off the bat.  Hmm, apparently he knew something I didn't.  They were cute.  As I scanned the rest of the pack, I couldn't help but notice that a lot of the hamsters lying around had a lot of 'baggage' at the rear end.  I told Lane those must be pregnant mamas...and we are NOT getting a pregnant mama.  The last thing we need is a litter of hamsters!



He's not squeezing too hard...really.



On the other side of the Fancy Hamsters there was a cage of Dwarf Hamsters.  I lifted the lid off their little cave and there were three tiny little creatures huddled up together.  They scattered like mice, and Lane thought that was hilarious!  I could tell he liked those little ones, but we walked back to the other side to look at the Fancy Hamsters again.  I flagged down an employee and asked about the 'baggage' near the trunk area.  I was wrong, ha, they were not pregnant mamas, those were big boys!  DISGUSTING.  Okay, so we are NOT getting a male hamster because there is no way I'm looking at that every day!  Ugh.



So tiny!



Lane didn't seem to care for the excess baggage either and kept looking over to the Dwarf Hamsters, so I asked about them and the employee told us they wouldn't get a lot bigger, they were a little harder to tame, but were fun.  Lane was ALL over it.  She got one out, and although she could barely contain it, he was certain that was the one he wanted.  He's not black and white, but Lane decided that he would still name the little fella, Oreo.  (And his baggage isn't quite so pronounced.)

We had made this flying trip to the pet store in between a busy afternoon.  On our way back home, we had to make a stop at the nursing home because our church praise band and our preacher were leading worship service.  It was awfully hot outside, so we had no choice...I told Lane that hamsters need God too...and Oreo came to his first church service!  (I kept thinking of Ray Stephens and the Mississippi Squirrel!)  Wasn't Grandma Great excited to have a rodent in her room for a visit afterwards?!  No, not really, but she kept giggling.  I figure she had dreams all night about mice running up and down her legs!  And I would bet she was the only resident in the nursing home who was visited by a hamster for Mother's Day.

I forgot to ask the Pet Store how old Oreo was, but I'm thinking it may be good we don't know...then I won't have to make any silly promises like, if he dies, we'll get another one! 

Happy Mother's Day

"Honor your father and mother”—which is the first commandment with a promise—  “so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.”  Ephesians 6:2-3 (NIV)

Just wanted to take the time to say Happy Mother's Day to all the moms, grandmas, aunts, sisters and girlfriends out there.  You know 'they' say it takes a village to raise a child, and I now believe it.  I have been so blessed to have a wonderful mom, two fantastic grandmothers, several aunts, a great mother-in-law and many, many, many women who have been a great influence on my life. 

I have been blessed that almost all the women in my life have been Christian women, women not afraid of their beliefs and their roles as such, and who have helped mold me into who I am today.  (Yes, it is ALL your fault that I'm like this :)  There have been so many women that I have been fortunate to have as mentors through our church family that I could make a list almost a mile long (well, maybe not that long but it would be long).   I don't have a sister, but I have some terrific girlfriends who are as close to me as I think a sister might be, and I'm thankful for them this weekend as well. 

If you're celebrating your first Mother's Day as a new mother, Congratulations.  You will soon realize how not-so-crazy-after-all your mom is and that you do need her (and your mother-in-law) around.  It's just one of those things you don't understand until you experience it (or at least that was my take on it)! 

And to those who may be celebrating their first Mother's Day without their mother, my thoughts and prayers are with you.  I have a good friend who will be experiencing that this year, and I'm sure it will be very bitter-sweet for her. 

So to all the moms here on this earth or up above in heaven and to the women who influence the lives of others, Happy Mother's Day!!

E-I-E-I-O

Introducing the Wilhoit Family Farm's latest additions...drum roll, please...Rick & Ruby, the pigs.  We've never had pigs before so this is a new adventure for us.  Last year during the 4H fair, Lane hung out with our friends' grandson/nephew and his pigs.  He fell in love with those pigs.  He would hardly leave their side.  I must say it was a little sad to tell him that the one he really loved, I think her name was Texas or something, was going to the slaughter house.  She was becoming sausage and bacon.  The look on his face was pitiful, but it was the truth and I wasn't going to sugarcoat it now.  We are meat eaters.

Lane would even practice showing our friend's pigs in the arena when no one was around.  He had some help, but was so engrossed and very serious about slapping those little pig butts (I see a nice pork roast) with his 'pigstick.'  He has already been out practicing with Rick & Ruby and his 'pigstick' which he saved from last year.  My grandpa would love it if he were alive.  He had pigs every now and then.  On the other side of my dad's family, there is a long-line of pork producing, and one cousin still raises them locally.  It must be in the blood.  Wonderful.

Anyway, he has since been asking for a pig.  Madolyn, who has always dealt with the goats, will now also being showing Rick and Ruby at the 4H fair.  She is not nearly as excited about Rick and Ruby as Lane is, but Lane has to wait one more year before he is eligible to join 4H.  I am pretty sure when that happens, he'll take over the pig process and Madolyn will wipe her hands of them...literally.

I love little Ruby, who is not going to be little for long.  I can see that she has already grown quite a bit in the few weeks we've had her.  Pigs are to be fed at all times, which kills me...but their purpose is to fatten, and fatten is what they are doing.  We've already gone through probably 150 pounds of hog feed.  Yikes.  They are cute though, they literally snuggle up together and interlock their little pig feet and legs like they're in love.  They've only just met too...must be some sort of hog love connection.

My mom has already informed us that when we are gone on vacation or at church camp, she is NOT feeding the pigs.  She will feed the other animals, but not the pigs.  And she doesn't want to start smelling them at her house either...I was hoping they wouldn't smell at all.  Unfortunately, if you walk around the camper to that far side of the barn, you can smell the piggies and their poo.  It is not a smell I am accustom to yet, but I suppose it's just a matter of time.  Ugh.

Looks like I'm going to get schooled on pigs now.  I thought we were covered pretty good with horses and goats, guess not.  There's always room to learn more, right?  I'm telling you something though, we will NOT have chickens again unless the time comes when we absolutely must raise our own to feed our family.  That is not an experience I want to relive if I have my say.  We haven't tried sheep yet either, hmm.  Don't give Jay any ideas.  Our neighbors have them, we better leave them across the road. 

If you're ever in the area and want to visit a small petting zoo, just come by the Wilhoit Family Farm, E-I-E-I-O. 

Tip-top

I haven't given an update on my grandma lately, so here goes.  After being moved to a regular hospital room from ICU, I'm not sure who wanted her out of the hospital quicker...her or the hospital staff.  I think she only stayed in a regular room a few days and was back at the nursing home, her home, where all of her stuff was, and her people...who look after her.  She really does seem to be comfortable there, and we are thankful for that.

She attended some therapy and rehab there at the nursing home and went through that without a hitch.  She is back to walking with her walker every other day down the hall a ways.  I don't think she has been able to go quite as far as she once was, but she's okay with that.  I'm glad that she is able to walk, but it's really not necessary that she push too hard and risk falling again.

I can't remember how many days it had been, but I came bopping in one day during my lunch hour after she had returned and one of the employees said, "She's finally back to her old self."  Thank goodness...she was a tad grouchy there for a bit.  I can say that she's pretty much back to normal now. 

A couple weeks ago, she started getting her nails painted a bright red.  It just cracks me up.  She is 93 years old and in all of my 37 years, I had never ever seen her have painted fingernails until about six months ago...and definitely wouldn't have imagined it.  I commented on how pretty her bright red nails looked with her turquoise shirt and she said that she didn't really want the bright red, but now that she had it, she liked it.  She said, isn't it funny, I have never had my nails painted and this long in my life until I came here.  You go, grandma!

Today when I walked in over lunch, she was in the rest room so I sat on her bed and waited.  She didn't know I was there.  I could hear her telling the staff member helping her that she was convinced something was wrong over around home because I hadn't showed up yet and it was Monday.  If I wasn't there on a Monday, she knows something is wrong.  So I got her attention and she was relieved.  As she walked out of the bathroom, I thought something looked off about her.  This caused me concern for a moment, along with her already being a little worried that something was wrong, she must be having a bad day.

As she sat down in her recliner, I figured out what it was...her shirt was not buttoned up to the tip-top.  I said, Grandma, your shirt is unbuttoned at the top!  I reached over and buttoned it immediately.  That is as good as being stark naked to Grandma.  She never goes long with her neck showing.  All shirts have to be buttoned to the tip-top, and if the shirts don't have buttons to the tip-top, they are sewn on.  I'm not joking either.  This woman has some sort of phobia about an exposed neckline!

We had a good visit and as usual, I whispered a prayer of thankfulness that she's still around.  I always knew God had a plan for me when he told me to take this job, I would've never guessed that one of the reasons would be the convenience of visiting my grandma in the local nursing home on a regular basis over my lunch hour, but it's worked out beautifully...somebody has to be around to make sure she's buttoned to the tip-top!

Stones

When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”  John 8:7 (NIV)

This is one of those stories in the bible that gives me goose bumps.  And when I saw it portrayed on screen, it was even more touching.  I can't even remember now what I was watching or where, maybe it was at youth, but there it was.

Jesus is standing in the temple courts at the Mount of Olives and he's teaching to those gathered around him.  A group of teachers of law and Pharisees come up to Jesus with a woman they have caught committing adultery and make her stand at his feet.  They tell Jesus what she has done and that the law of Moses says she should be stoned.  They ask him what he has to say.  This is a trap, they want to have a reason to accuse Jesus of wrongdoing and disobeying the law of Moses.

And this is the really good part, Jesus bends down to draw in the sand, stands up and says, "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her."  And he bends down and continues to draw in the sand.  (This is when I want to say, Ha, what do you have to say to that, you nasty, mean Pharisees?!)  They turn and leave until only the woman and Jesus are standing there, alone.  Jesus asks her, "Woman, where are they?  Has no one condemned you?"  She responds, "No one, sir."  And he replies, "Then neither do I condemn you.  Go and leave your life of sin."

How awesome is that?  I love it that he totally showed those Pharisees up.  Every one of them walked away.  I am reminded of this story when I start gripping or complaining about something someone else has done.  How I cannot believe they did whatever and I thought they were better than that.  Listen to how they're talking about so and so, I thought they were friends!  Or even with my own children, you know, why on earth would they act that way?  Where did they learn that behavior?  Ouch.

I had a case of casting the first stone this morning, literally, as I was in the middle of writing this.  I was told someone said something about me that wasn't very nice.  Immediately I wanted to call them out on it because how could they say stuff like that about me?  But instead I had to laugh out loud because I was writing about this very same situation in a sense!  Coincidence...I don't think so.  So I have vowed to be kind and say only true and positive things about them, starting fresh and anew.  Hoping that we can work together instead of against one another. 

I suppose I could get one of those backstop thingys that you use for practicing pitching in baseball and softball and starting throwing stones at it...that will come right back on me...because I have no business throwing a stone at anyone else.  If Jesus, who is without sin, can forgive the adulterous woman, then I better just keep those stones to myself.

Zero turn = zero control

Recently Jay bought the lawnmower of his dreams.  It is bright orange and has no steering wheel.  That is pretty much how I would describe it.  The picture on the left is similar, I'm sure it's not the exact model, but it's close.  I think it looks like a big orange insect.

I finally had my turn learning how to operate the big orange insect this past weekend, and let me tell you, it was quite an experience.  What floors me is that my 8 year old son and 11 (almost 12) year old daughter can operate this machine without difficulty.  It is mind-boggling.

After Madolyn had mowed a while, I sat down for my turn.  Jay showed me how to start it, how to raise and lower the mowing deck, go foward and backwards, etc., all in about 30 seconds.  My first question was: Where is the foot brake?  Funny thing (not really), there isn't one, except for the parking brake.  You just pull the handles in neutral position and you stop.  I asked what do I do if I need to stop quickly, as in an emergency?  The answer:  You pull back fast.  Hmm.

So I start the big orange bug and take off...sort of.  Lucky me, my mom and all my nieces were there so I had a small audience.  Almost immediately, I am out of control.  That thing moves quickly and is super sensitive.  I was this way and that way and jerking here and there.  I kept stomping my foot as if to hit a brake...of course, there wasn't one.  Jay is screaming at me.  I stop.  He provides more loving guidance.  And off I go again.

Fortunately, I was left to mow the open area.  There are a few trees and a pond...which could present a problem, I suppose...but for the most part, I couldn't hurt much.  Thank goodness.  It was terrible.  I would concentrate so hard that I would go left, then right, then spin around.  And then I would come to a halt and go in reverse because if I pulled back too hard...that is reverse.  Stopping is a very precise position...one I had trouble finding.

Jay hollered at me at one point to just stop and get off...which only made me more determined.  I cannot let this stupid orange bug defeat me.  I will get this...after all my son and daughter can drive this thing...our friend's son, who is two years younger than Lane, can drive their zero-turn mower, I can do this.  My arms were so tense and tight from grasping those stupid handles, but I persisted.  I will get this.

Thankfully, Jay gave up on getting me to stop.  (It takes a while, but he catches on.  I can be pretty stubborn.)  I zipped around and occasionally got into a spin, but eventually I mowed the large part without damaging anything beyond repair.  I don't get it at all, the love of that thing...unless you like speed, I suppose.  No question it is very fast and you are able to get up real close to stuff...that is if you can figure out how to get there without hitting anything.

Mom made an interesting analogy.  I don't do much better on the horse than I did with that mower.  I tried riding Woody this weekend too and it didn't go so well either.  Hmm, I'm starting to get a complex.

I love to mow.  It is very relaxing, but I find it harder and harder to find the time to mow these days.  Good thing is that Madolyn enjoys mowing and somehow is able to control that bright orange beast.  Jay loves zipping around on it too.  Good for you guys, you can have it!  Give me a tractor or a typical lawnmower with a steering wheel and a foot brake any day! 

Proofreader extraordinaire

More info on the exciting career of Court Reporting!  A very important aspect of court reporting is proofreading.  Remember, I said we are not the maker of the record, we are the keepers of the record.  So our job is not to correct what someone said, but we are to correct typos and other errors we make when reporting.

When I was a beginner, I would print and proofread things over and over and over.  Seriously, three times I would read through those puppies before I sent them out.  It probably was wise at the time for various reasons, but I soon realized that I could read the same thing several times and probably always decide to change something (especially punctuation).  I came to my senses finally and actually proofread only once on paper now, which is enough...not to mention it gets a little old.  Think about it, I have already heard it once (when I was reporting it) and then I get to read it again on the computer, then print it out on paper and proofread it a little closer.  I end up enjoying the same subject matter at least three times.  Wahoo!

Having been a court reporter for 16 years, my skills have improved somewhat (I should hope) and I am able to insert punctuation as I'm writing, for the most part.  I don't catch every semi colon or comma, and believe me, if things get hairy, punctuation is the first thing to go out the window.  I can always add it later, but I have to get what they're saying! 

I did decent in English class and understood grammar pretty well.  I definitely don't always use the proper grammar or speak correctly, but I think I have a decent grasp on that, which comes in handy when proofreading...except that people don't necessarily speak in complete sentences, stay on the same thought and/or finish their thought before jumping to another one (like yours truly here).  The dash is a reporter's best friend.  I have never used so many dashes in all of my life, but let me tell you, it is a must to keep the flow of some dialogue going.

I often wonder if those reading their own testimony think, "She totally messed that up, look, I didn't even get to finish the answer."  My response would be something like, "Yeah, well, I hate to tell you, you didn't finish that answer or any other one before changing your thoughts, and you actually did say the word 'so' every other sentence."  It may not be pretty, but you said it.  I heard you.  I have always said that attorneys, judges and police officers should read their own testimony every now and then so they know exactly how what they say looks on paper.  I think they would be shocked.

I had an attorney down south that said 'the' before every single sentence.  I am not exaggerating.  For a long time, I would write down every single time he said 'the' and then I decided it was more like someone saying 'um' out of habit.  It didn't really affect (is that the right one?!) anything being said.  I will take down 'um' if that is part of the sentence or answer, if they're hesitating or something, but if it's out of habit, I don't. 

If you shake or nod your head, I write down (Shaking head.) (Nodding head.)  If you say 'uh-huh' or 'uh-uh', that is what I write down.  If slang is used, slang is what goes down.  If you don't answer, I write (No reply.)  Believe me, we have a solution to almost everything and if we don't know, we can usually ask another reporter and find out.

You might be wondering, if you can't change words and things, what are you proofreading for?  Corrections made during proofreading (besides punctuation) might be capitalizing a proper noun, changing a numeral to the written word, making a paragraph or new line, etc.  Also, we do occasionally misstroke on our machine and the wrong word comes up.  It is not uncommon for that to happen, and spell check will not catch the wrong word.  So let's say what I took down transcribed as 'here', but it should have been 'hear'.  I would only notice that if I were reading over that.  Something someone may never catch, but Court Reporters want it right.

We're kind of particular that way.  At our seminar a few weeks ago, our table was talking about texting and how we can't stand to use short-hand and no punctuation in a text.  It is so true.  I don't always use the proper punctuation or spell out words on texts, but it does bug me.  I almost feel guilty or like I am breaking a rule if I write 'u' instead of adding those two extra letters!  I think this might become a problem in the future when our children can't spell out words too!

I can catch a typo a mile away (unless they're my own, of course).  Reading the newspaper at times is painful because I wonder if they ever proofread their own articles?!  And don't even get me started on  what people write on Facebook, marquees and public signs!!  Ugh. 

One funny of mine that actually left my office and went out into the world of litigation...I didn't catch a typo in a parenthetical that I used in a transcript after a witness was excused from the stand.  Normally, it would say (witness excused).  This transcript said (witness executed).  There is a very big difference there, especially if you're the witness, huh?  I am sure I have had many, many more typos go unnoticed.  I know I have caught some on my blog posts later on and wanted to crawl in a hole...because I pick apart anything else I read.  I can always tell when I've rushed through something because I'll find the wrong word or double words or something like that.  Oops! 

Court Reporters aren't perfect, we just like to think we are, but if you want something proofread, bring it over.  I'll pick it apart, trust me.

Pop Rocks!

Jay has been working nights this week.  After almost seven years of him working shiftwork, I am finally not a scaredy cat at night...but every now and then I get a little spooked.  Last night, after watching a Criminal Minds episode (maybe that's part of my problem), I finally drifted off to sleep.

All of a sudden something jarred me awake.  I was in that semi-deep sleep too, the kind where you wake up and feel like you've been asleep for hours and realize it's only been 20 minutes.  Ugh.  Anyway, the sound came from the living room.  It sounded like a quick blast of water.  I set straight up and went out to investigate.  Turned on the light and didn't see anything...except the Precious Hank the Tank II sitting by the patio doors.  He didn't look like he was up to anything, no new holes in the carpet, nothing torn to shreds that I could see.  I shut off the light and went back to bed.

I may have been on high alert because earlier in the evening, Madolyn thought Hank the Tank II needed his precious toe nails painted bright red...so she wrestled him to the ground and got the job done.  After the kids had went to bed and I was still up watching TV, I heard Hank chewing and licking.  Uh-oh, I'm gonna kill him if there is another hole in the carpet.  No hole.  He was chewing and licking his dew claw (I think that's what they're called).  I couldn't see any wound or sore, but he was all over it.  I was afraid he would chew it right off.  So I decided that maybe he didn't like the nail polish and was trying to lick it off.  I got the nail polish remover and a tissue and started removing the polish...that didn't seem to help so I just left it on.  It's a terrible-looking pedi now though because two nails are unpolished.  Poor guy.

Back to my original story...I get up this morning and notice on the living room floor next to Hank the Tank II's teething toy (which is a deer antler, YES, try it...it is better than any toy we have purchased, he CANNOT seem to destroy it no matter how hard he tries) and there were the remnants of some sort of package.  I didn't think about it until I walked past it a second time and leaned over to pick it up and throw it away.

Ah-ha...Hank the Tank II found Lane's stash of Pop Rocks candy and apparently enjoyed a package.  That was the sound I had heard last night, the Pop Rocks exploding inside his mouth!  Too funny.  I'm guessing the rest of Lane's stash is safe.  Hank may not be the smartest dog we've ever had, but he is entertaining and so stinkin' cute...