The Quackdaddy is 70!

Twenty years ago, I thought seventy was old.  Now, I'm thinking it doesn't seem so bad.  Today, The Quackdaddy is turning 70 years.

Yesterday we surprised him with a birthday party.  Mom came up with the idea and had been planning it for weeks.  Our rouse was a family photo session, and because it would've been pretty tricky to prepare for a party at his house, the party was thrown at our house.  We live back off the road and unless the Quack is checking cows (which does happen daily), he wouldn't notice the party prep going on.  (It's always good to have an excuse to get things done around the place, you know.)

It has been so funny trying to sneak around to make the preparations for this party.  Last week, after a morning of dove hunting, the Quack was dropping Jay off at our house when my brother pulls up with his gas grill.  He unloads it and tells Jay that I said Jay could fix it.  Jay is perplexed.  He looks the grill over and says he'll see what he can do...dad walks to his truck and my brother says, "That's all I could think of!" Ah-ha, it took a while, but Jay finally caught on.

Saturday mom bought some supplies at Walmart while we were at a volleyball tournament because dad had to do something else and couldn't go.  On her way home, she was going to drop the stuff off at our house.  Jay & I were just pulling out of our driveway to go to Lane's football game when dad pulled up on the mule (no, not the four-legged type) and asked where mom was, she wasn't answering her phone.  I assured him that she was on her way home from the tournament, she had stayed a little longer than I did.

I roll the window up and tell Jay that I hope he turns around and goes home (and not back to our house like normal) because mom is on her way with the supplies.  Thankfully, dad did turn around to go home.  We turn the opposite direction of my parent's house and meet my mom, who had driven the long way around to avoid driving past her house on her way to my house.  She stayed down in the dip in the road at the neighbor's until she could see dad pull into their driveway and then proceeded to our house to unload.

We met at the pond over on the family farm for pictures at 3:30.  Our guests were to arrive at our house by 4:30 and we hoped to be there by 5.  I guess no one had communicated to my brother the timeline and it was hilarious that he kept making comments like, well, I have an appointment with my couch soon, I think that's enough pictures, etc.  All the while mom and I are saying, oh, we should probably go somewhere else and get some different pictures.   My dad then starts rushing everything because he thinks Mark really needs to be somewhere.  Finally, I whisper to Mark the timing situation.  It was so funny because suddenly he was wanting more pictures.  Our photographer knew what was up so she went with it.

Mom made signs and had them up and down the driveway greeting our guests and the birthday boy.   Mom said dad noticed the first one, flew past the second one too quick to read and by the time he reached the third one, he was picking up on something.  He said he thought it was a church party until he saw "Phil's" truck.  Somehow he had no idea.  We pulled off a big surprise.

The Quack parked way down at the end of the line of cars parked along the driveway so this was the best picture my friend could capture.  I'm hoping our photographer grabbed a couple too.  (I'm so bummed I didn't walk around and take pictures during the party!)

Lucky for our guests, we were pig-free as of last Tuesday, and no stinky odors were looming.   And as of Saturday mid-afternoon we were bee-free, thanks in part to Jay being stung 18 times and torching a couple nests.  (Thankfully, he is not allergic to them.)  Jay set up the camper television for the football junkies and everyone positioned their chairs around that.  Heaven forbid, we sacrifice Sunday NFL.  We had a new fire ring to try out and it proved to be functioning.  By sunset, the fire felt pretty good.

There were 55 people there (if my calculation is accurate) and the weather was perfect.  A big thanks to my aunt, uncle and the Spank for grilling and getting everything set up and ready while we were taking pictures.

I think a good time was had by all.  And hopefully we got one decent family photo out of it :)

About a year...

It's quickly approaching - the one-year mark of the passing of Grandma Great.  Some days it feels like she has been gone forever and other days it seems like I was just talking to her as we enjoyed a block of Kraft sharp cheese and saltines.   It seems like it took about six months for it to really bother me that she was gone.  There have been moments this summer where I really, really missed being able to tell her something.   Here are a few examples...

When I learned that Lane won Grand Champion Barrow Overall at the Martinsville fair, and had done so, almost entirely on his own because Jay and I were both at work, without thinking, my first thought was, I have to tell Grandma Great...and then it dawned on me that I couldn't.  I was just going into court and when it hit me, that I could not go tell her after work, I got that lump in my throat.  Ugh.  Then, as Jay and I always do, we try to imagine what she would say and mimic her saying it.  I'm guessing she would have probably said something like, "Oh, that sweet thang, bless his little heart."

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, Madolyn played in her very first piano recital this summer having practiced for the last ten months on Grandma's prized piano.  Again, the lump in the throat...Grandma Great would've beamed with pride.

Now a fifth grader, Lane was given the opportunity to pick an instrument to learn and join band.  Of course, I was thinking one of two things, 1) there is no way the Bud is going to play in the band; and 2)  I bet he picks the drums.  And of course, I was wrong on both counts.  The Bud did want to play in the band and the Bud chose the Trumpet as his instrument of choice.  Heaven help us, he loves that thing.  I cracked up on the inside because I think it's hilarious and instantly thought, oh my, Grandma Great would get a kick out of this for sure.  She would cackle and slap her knee...and probably ask me how in the world he got hooked on the trumpet.  Who knows - would most certainly be my response.

Last week in the local newspaper there was a picture of Lane playing football.  She was notorious for cutting out newspaper clippings, making a notation on them and storing them away in the dresser drawer located in the west bedroom.  Again, it hit me that she won't be saving that newspaper clipping...

Jay is training for an Ultra running race in November.  It's insane.  We all agree.  (Sometimes I think he does too.)  I can just see her leaning down with her hands on her thigh, looking me in the eye and asking, "What is wrong with him?" and then laughing because even she loved Jay and his crazy ideas.

We had our annual Kannmacher reunion a couple weeks ago.  Last year Grandma attended and we had some family pictures taken.  I'm so thankful that we got that picture with her before she got real bad.  We were few in numbers at the reunion and I missed not filling her plate and taking her picture as she visited with her nieces.

Madolyn and my two nieces, Liz and Caitlin, are playing volleyball together this year and will be on the court all at once.  She would've been very proud of her great-granddaughters playing for the Bluestreaks and would've asked me for the low-down on every game.

I could go on and on...

I sure miss that spunky 'ole gal.

Contentment & Attitude

I'm not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.  Philippians 4:11-13 (NIV)

I've always been a big believer in having a glass-is-half-full type of attitude.  If you focus on the negative, you will become consumed with the negative.  If you focus on the positive, you're always hopeful.  I still believe it.

All of us need an attitude adjustment every now and then.  This Spring I was forced to give myself one.  I was becoming consumed with negative thoughts of my job.  I was bored to tears and very frustrated with the fact that it suddenly occurred to me I was about 25% court reporter/75% secretary, and more importantly 85% bored.  I have nothing against secretaries or if I was one 100% of the time, but I went to school to be a court reporter.  I went to school to type really fast on my shorthand machine...not to answer the telephone, with a majority of the phone calls intended for another office within the courthouse, and not just to sit here and look busy.  I was drowning in this revelation.  And it was really getting me down.

We had our annual court reporting seminar in April and I got to hang out with my former circuit girls.  I literally puked out my frustrations with them and others.  And I don't know if it was that exercise, spewing from my lips to people that understood how frustrated I was, that finally did it or what, but on the way home, it clicked that I had two choices.  I could either accept my current position, the good and the bad, and change my attitude about it, or consume myself with pity and dread coming to work every single day.

I'd also been struggling with painful arms, shoulders, neck, wrists and hands.  For some reason, I suddenly made the connection.  If I was doing more of my actual court reporting work, I am not sure my upper body could take it.  For real.  Could I even handle being 75% court reporter?   If I get what I want, I may not be able to handle it physically.  Duh.

It was like God was telling me:  Sarah, shut up and do your job, the one I have given you.  I put you there, I know what is best for you.  Just be content with the situation and find the good.

So, here I am, content with the situation as best I can be.  I have a very good job with stability.  I am fortunate to at least being doing a little of what I enjoy and went to school for.  Some are never blessed with such an opportunity.

None of us know what tomorrow holds.  I don't know if my body could take the physical demands of being a full-time court reporter anymore.  But I can do the job I have right now.  After the change in attitude and outlook on the situation, I'm fully content (well, almost) with the situation at work.  (There's always room for improvement: see glass half-full rationale.)

And my goodness, when I look around outside my own little box, I can see many folks who have a lot to be depressed about.  Wouldn't they love to trade me for just one day of my 'frustrations'?

The definition of contentment is: the state of being happy and satisfied.  Our outlook on life and attitude has such a powerful hold over the joy in life.  It is mostly within our control.  Today, I choose to see the good.  Today, I choose contentment.

#10 - yes, we are crazy

As a little background for any new readers or some who have lost track, we have had a pretty rough history with dogs and other animals around our place.  We have owned approximately nine dogs in 19 years.  At this time, #5, Abby, a black Labrador, and #9, Hank the Tank II, a chocolate Labrador, are alive and well.  It is like 100+ degrees out today, so that could change...just kidding...well, sort of.

Anyway, my BFF, who has been on another turnaround at work (working nights this time - boo) and tends to make some irrational decisions, decided that we needed - yes, needed - a puppy.  And my goodness, it has been three long years since we've had one...cannot believe that Hank II has lived this long...so he started searching and found the one he wanted.

And because he is working every single night, I (being the only woman on the planet who could be married to this man), and our daughter (Lord, who will she marry?) went and picked up the sweet little gal this past weekend.

Which reminded me, it was three years ago yesterday that Jay brought Hank the Tank II home...again, just in time for my anniversary (today).  Last year, he bought me a couple sows and a boar at the State Fair.  I know we can eat the pork, but even I have to say I prefer a cute puppy...at least today.   Ask me in a couple months when our house is even more destroyed than it already is how I feel about that decision...

But really, how can you resist that sweet thang right there?  This was after her first bath at our house and she was not really feeling it yet.  I was very worried during the first 24 hours that she was sick and might not make be okay.  Apparently, it was just the adjustment of relocating...she surely hasn't heard about our place, right?

So, friends, please welcome Moxie, our 10-week old Bloodhound puppy.  We've had her just over 48 hours and she is still alive (as of 7:30 a.m.) and is a cutie-pie.  She is very awkward right now because nothing really fits...her ears hang low, her head is tiny and her legs are long.  She has not started in with the howling...yet.

This morning I woke up about 4:30 and thought, uh-oh, I didn't get up to let her outside!  I quickly let her out, she did her business and then I put her on my bed, with a small deer antler to gnaw on because, I assumed, she would be wide awake...and I was not.

She instantly found her comfy spot next to me, nestled into my arm pit, put her head on my arm/chest and was out just like that.  I could not believe it...and, of course, I was not in my comfy spot. Phooey.  She stayed there motionless until my alarm went off.  What a sweet little thang. (At least as of 7:30 a.m. today.)

Stay tuned for more on #10, Miss Moxie.

Our newest victim, I mean pet - Boots

A few weeks ago, Madolyn sent me the picture of the cutest little black and white kitten that a friend had. She was adorable (black and white kitties are my favorite), and on impulse, I said, Okay, you can bring her home!  Usually, those decisions are regretted within about 24 hours, but we do not regret this little acquisition AT ALL...yet, at least.

Introducing Boots Wilhoit.  I call her Boo because I'm just not a fan of her name, but it is Madolyn's kitty so there you go.  This little gal will purr on demand.  I can just look at her and she will start the roar.  She is so lovable and she has been a GODSEND when it comes to the Not-So-Sweet Josie.

Would you believe that Josie has not bit me or struck out at me since Boo arrived?  No kidding.  I cannot believe the complete change in personality for the big kitty.  I had suggested getting another cat about a year ago when I could not get Josie to calm down...and Jay was opposed.  I don't usually do this, but I didn't even get his opinion when I told Madolyn to bring this little cutie pie home.

I don't know if little kitty has wounds that I cannot see or what, but I think she has become Josie's new punching bag.  Is that terrible of me?!   I don't think they hate each other too much.  They play a lot and will also leave each other alone when they're ready to relax.

I've been a little surprised that Josie has allowed Boo to take over her 'spot' on the half wall in the kitchen.  But as you can see, they are sharing the space...or something.  I had to remove those artificial flowers and the ones in another vase because little kitty cannot resist them.  Boo knocked a peace lily off the half wall yesterday while we were at church so that has been relocated as well.  Nothing is safe for the time being.

She had become infatuated with the fair fish too...and I could see that was going to become a problem, but Lane took care of that himself. Our fish has moved on to greener pastures, I mean murkier waters...

Funny thing, this little kitty was born and raised on a farm.  The very day we brought her home she was staring out the window and pawing at the door.  We realized right away she loved it outdoors, and we let her venture outside.  Immediately she appeared with a mouse in her mouth.  It took Josie months to muster up the courage to go outdoors, and that really was the result of us throwing her outside time after time and making her stay out.  This little kitty has repeatedly brought goodies to the door, and has attacked birds that have come inside through our chimney.  She's a savage!

And she fits right in...

Plugged in

Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires.  The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.  Romans 8:5-6 (NIV)

This summer, whether packing for our family vacation, church camp or even a weekend camping trip, the number one main concern of all parties involved is, Do we have all the appropriate chargers?  Everywhere we go, we have to make sure we have all the chargers and power cords.  It's like going down a checklist:  Ipod charger?  Check.  Cell phone charger (X3)?   Check.  Nook charger?  Check.  DS charger? Check.  Adapter for car?  Check.  Camera charger?  Check.

Good.  Grief.  Could we bring a few more chargers with us?

What about clothes, snacks, towels, swim/beach stuff, etc?  Those are afterthoughts.  First and foremost on everyone's minds are the stupid chargers because, God forbid, we are stranded for even 30 minutes without a charge.  Seriously.  And it's not as if we don't have back-up devices for entertainment.  Madolyn's phone does almost everything, but if it would die, she could switch to the Nook or my Ipad.  Lane has an Ipod, but if it dies, he has the DS.  Jay's phone does lots of things, so if my phone would die, I could just use his, it's better anyway.

Last year, I noticed that our cheerleaders were plugging their phones in along the wall in the gymnasium during our ball games.  Ridiculous.  Completely ridiculous.  I wasn't the actual cheer sponsor so I didn't feel like I could bark at all the girls, but I did bark at mine.  No way are you going to charge your phone at a ball game, during the game, along the wall in the gym.  No. Way.

When Madolyn is invited to go somewhere overnight, the very first thing she asks me to bring is her phone charger.  It's not a toothbrush, clean underwear, clothes or shoes...it's the precious phone charger.

It would not surprise me one bit if in the future there aren't outlets in our children's school lockers.  Not for cell phones, but someday I believe all the schools will have Think Pads or some other notebook for their students and do away with text books.  And what will all of those devices need?  Power. An outlet for a charger.  I can't remember who I was talking to about this, but we laughed and then realized it wasn't so funny.  It could really happen and probably will.

Go to an airport and take a look around.  You will see adults, as well as young people, sitting (on the floor) within two feet of an electrical outlet.  All over the place.  And they even have actual charging stations in airports now.  All over the place.  They're almost always full.

Do you think we're all a little too plugged in these days?   Watch and you will see, anxiety and panic set in if a battery dies without a charger or power within reach.  Lane has a complete meltdown if he realizes we don't have a charger and we're on a long car ride...even if he has a full battery to begin with.  You see, his mind is already whirling over the impending drain of his battery.  It is ridiculous.  He is consumed by the dread of a dead battery...instead of enjoying what time he has with it.

Everywhere we go, the most important item on the top of the list is a charger or power cord.  Borrowing an old slogan that seems to fit - "Your charger - Never leave home without it."

I'm not sure how we backtrack now.  It's such a normal way of life anymore.  And honestly, at times I'm as bad as my kids.  If I forget my cell phone at home or my battery is about dead, I feel like I've been stranded or I'll miss something...it is like a dark cloud over me until the problem is resolved.  I don't like the way it makes me feel, but I have been a willing participant in getting myself to that point.

I bet God wished we were this attached to our bibles...and this devoted to scripture...to Him...to our church...to serving and loving one another.  Thankfully, we don't have to search for an outlet or have the right power cord to be plugged in with God.  He never needs a charge.  We do.

Fairly depressed fish

The summer would not be complete without bringing home a fair fish or two or five.  This year was no different.  What child can resist the temptation of winning a fish by tossing a ping pong ball into a fish bowl?  Not mine, that is for sure.  I can't give you an accurate number of how many fish we procured this year, but post-fair-week count at our house was four.

I'm no dummy - at least not right now - and have kept fish bowl and accessories at my fingertips for the past couple of years.  So, when we saw Lane with fish baggies in tow on the second night of the fair, there were no worries.  We were ready.

As I said, we ended up with four fish, two orange and two half white/half orange.  They were all in one pretty large fish bowl with the Spongebob Pineapple House fish accessory we had on hand.  One by one, the fish count dwindled.  We now have one half white/half orange fish...who seems depressed.

Jay keeps saying of course, he's depressed.  His companions are disappearing left and right.  And when you think about it, he left the carnival circa where he lived in an aquarium full of fish - as in, probably 50+ fish. Maybe he is lonesome...

After our large, older goldfish "Sherlock" died earlier this year, Sweet Josie was left without a watering hole...she is quite delighted it has returned and resumed her habit of sipping from the fish bowl.  Maybe this fish is terrified of that sweet little kitty's evil-looking eyes peering down at him through the water.  I can only imagine what it looks like from his vantage-point.  You know how water distorts an image! Maybe he thinks this beast has eaten his roommates...

It's the weirdest fish ever, I tell you.  He stays in that pineapple and only comes out to eat.  I end up shaking the water bowl to determine if he's alive or dead because he refuses to come out.  Who knows how long this one will last.  He's certainly not tons of fun or interesting to watch.  'Tis the life of a fairly depressed fish, I suppose.