We have officially made it to our four-year anniversary today. I doubt either one of us, in our wildest dreams and/or nightmares had any idea what we were getting into when we decided to "combine forces", as Mike so eloquently stated the Sunday night he announced our impending marriage. In hindsight, it would probably have been more accurate to state that we would be "colliding forces" because the word "combine" connotes a more genteel blending than what has actually taken place.
I would like to say that we have the corner market on what works and what doesn't in combining two families with myriad hurts, quirks and other oddities. However, we don't. We are still learning and I suspect that we will still be learning how to do this until we take our last breath on this planet. The simple fact is, that it is very easy to hurt someone's feelngs in an intact first marriage with children. That fact increases significantly and in exponential numbers when one is dealing with spouses and children who have been hurt by divorce and/or abandonment. Because of this, seemingly simple requests or an off-hand comment sometimes has the potential of a time bomb because we don't always know what may trigger a memory from the first marriage or the family that existed before the Delta Deffelys did.
The past four years have been fraught with thrills, chills, spills and bills.
The Thrills
1. Three of the kids have been baptized in the past four years. It is very difficult to describe the joy and happiness in watching those new births.
2. One of the kids graduated last spring and is now working towards an accounting degree.
3. We have had the opportunity to travel quite a bit for as many people as we have in the family. Specifically, it was a thrill to meet the "New Hampshire Deffelys" (aka Mike's oldest brother and his family) shortly after we were married, when we travelled to New Hampshire for their two daughter's First Communions. This past summer, we had so much fun when we all met for a family reunion at Disney (the New Hampshire Deffelys, the Virginia Deffelys and the Delta Deffelys). We also got to go on "The Boat Trip" with our brothers and sisters from the Adrian Church of Christ. The kids still talk about these trips as if we went on them last week. They had so much fun on each one of them and all for different reasons. The trips helped cement the family as a whole.
The Chills
1. The furnace had a problem two winters ago so we decided we better get it fixed when it dipped down into the low 50's in the house. The kids were complaining because it was snowing outside and I think I also heard some of them mumbling something about having to put on winter gear to go outside and warm up. Brother.
2. Other chills have included times when Mike and I had no clue how to navigate the current crisis (and believe me, there is always a past, slightly past, current, slightly impending and you-better-watch-out-it's-about-to-blow crisis) and instead of pulling together, we both retreated to our separate corners trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation. This never works and I would like to say we are better at recognizing this, but I'm not sure if that's true just yet. Maybe in another few years. Or hopefully, 2010 will be the year we get it together.
The Spills
1. I told Mike I thought he should probably consider turning the lights on in the hallway when I heard him trip down a couple of steps about two years ago. He said he could see just fine by the light of the streetlight shining in the window. I waited until I was back in bed before I started laughing which I would like to point out is a big step in maturity for me. In the past, I would have just laughed right out loud, not considering that it might have a detrimental effect. I didn't used to have much of a filter on what strikes me as funny. Actually, this is all wishful thinking on my part. If it's funny, I laugh. But now that I'm old(er), chronologically speaking anyway, I can usually keep myself composed long enough to find out if the other person is OK before I laugh. For the record, I laugh at myself when I do stupid stuff too. It's fun and it keeps me from going too far down the perfection path that I know does not exist even though I look for it quite often.
2. Last winter I told Mike to be careful on the driveway out by the kitchen window because it was very icy. A few minutes later, I heard something but since I was too busy wiping tears from my eyes, I'm not sure if he actually fell or if it was just my imagination.
3. Three winters ago, I needed new tennis shoes. There was no tread left on mine and they were like walking on ice unless the surface was completely dry. The kids had tracked in about 16 inches of snow which of course melted right by the kitchen door. When I walked in, it was like stepping onto a skating rink and I wiped out. I had to wallow around in eight inches of water because I was laughing so hard I couldn't stand up. Later, I realized my leg really hurt. I got new shoes a couple of months after that.
The Bills
1. Truthfully, we don't have many bills but it rhymed with the other stuff I wrote and I needed another word in the "ill" family.
2. Actually, the Freightliner is the biggest bill we have and it's the hardest one to handle because you never know what's going to go wrong next. We can usually figure out when it will go wrong because it will be either right after we had to repair one of the cars or near a big holiday. That's the way life works. We figured that part out.
In Sickness and in Health
We have definitely been blessed here because none of the ten of us have really had much sickness. Some of the older kids experience migraines from time to time which are no fun at all. Obviously, we have had our share of strep throat, colds, flu-like stuff, etc. But major, catastrophic illnesses or injuries have thankfully passed us by so far.
For Better or Worse
Sometimes when it seems like we have been bombarded with one thing after another, I like to ask "is this the "for better" part?". It makes us both laugh and usually puts a little bit better perspective on things, even if it is only for the ten seconds we spent laughing at such a stupid comment.
I have also asked myself from time to time "this is "the worse" part right now correct? Because it can't get any worse than this right?" Wrong. And you shouldn't ask questions like that because it's too tempting for the fates. Whoever the fates are.
But in the end, we are so blessed because when we are in the "for better" part and things are moving along nicely and everyone is getting along for the most part, it's amazing! On the days when this happens, if one could peek in our kitchen window, one would never know that this family started out as a colliding force. The kids get along and help each other out, they pick on each other and laugh with each other and have fun together while Mike and I get along and help each other out and pick on each other and laugh with each other and have fun together. What? Isn't that supposed to be how it works?
For Richer, for Poorer
This vow is kind of funny to me because I believe people immediately think of monetary blessing when they hear it. I used to think the same thing. I know that financial issues can cause huge stress in a marriage. We experienced some of the joys of unemployment less than a year into our marriage. But I also think it refers to a general mindset. If one took a look at our bank account, one would not see a number as large as the national deficit. The good thing about this is, of course, that we don't need a ticker to watch it climb either. Or a financial planner. All we need is a basic knowledge of second grade math; addition and subtraction, usually subtraction. Somehow, we always have enough to get by. The bills have been paid, the cars repaired and we have a little left over for some fun things here and there. Though our accounts do not reflect the following statement, it is probably the truest testimony of our marriage: We are rich! Rich, I tell you!
Riches #1 - #8. We have eight kids that have been entrusted to us, to raise as godly individuals, all unique, with unique perspectives and jobs to do in Christ's body. It is an awesome, humbling responsibility and one that neither one of us take lightly.
Riches #9. We are rich! We have each other and even though we have no clue how to do stuff sometimes we have our mutual faith and basic understanding of God's love, forgiveness, grace and mercy to carry us through.
Riches #10. We are rich! We have the greatest family (biological and Christian) who have stepped in to help when we need them. They uphold us in prayer. They help us in tangible ways with babysitting services, encouragement, phone calls and cards. They laugh with us. They cry with us. They hurt and rejoice with us. They have walked beside us. They have, figuratively speaking, beaten us with two by fours when we needed it and Mike and I are both the most bullheaded individuals one will ever meet. We need a lot of 2x4s! They have pushed us, pulled for us, cheered for us and shown us God's love, His mercy, His forgiveness and His grace! There are other ways to be rich other than a large 401k, bank account or property investments. We have some monetary richness, but we are definitely rich in family! The best part about this is, that the government can't take them away. HAHA! Take that change!
I forgot about the poor part. Well, we're not poor. That's all. There's money in the bank and we have good, friends and family. It's simple. That's all we need.
Til Death We are Parted
On December 28, 2005, with Dale Morgan officiating, Michael T. and I stood before our kids, my parents, our friend and Dale's wife Connie, our friend Shelly and her kids and promised to love, honor and cherish not only each other, but also our kids. I made my vows, first to God, then to Mike, then to the kids and finally to family and friends. I didn't take them lightly four years ago and I don't take them lightly today. Each day, week, month and year that passes by, leaves me with a greater understanding of what each of those vows, those promises really mean.
Those who know the intricacies of our marriage: the joys, the triumphs, the challenges, the weaknesses, the strengths, the heartaches and the very real challenges and threats that we face each day will understand the significance of the following statement: I would not trade one second, one minute, one hour or one day of trudging through the valleys of the Deffely Collision Course for a life spent on the mountaintop. The challenges that we face show me a greater understanding of Christ's love and His sacrifice for me.
Emerson Eggerichs said this about marriage: "Marriage is a tool and test to deepen and develop our love for Christ." There isn't much else that needs to be said.
Happy Anniversary, Michael T! I love you!
Monday, December 28, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The Least of These
The year 2001 was a bittersweet year for me. I had three kids under the age of four and one on the way. Towards the end of July, I left my ex-husband in order to protect the kids. He had heavily involved himself in a lifestyle that was not conducive to raising children and we were no longer safe living with him.
I arrived in Ohio with $600 in my pocket, no job and really no means of getting a job due to the pregnancy. Even though I had a college degree, we ended up on food stamps and medicaid and we were living with my mom, an arrangement that would last almost two years to the date. My mind was reeling with the speed in which my life had spun out of control. I stabilized the kids to the best of my ability and began to trust God to provide for us in ways I had never had to trust him before.
I began attending a church that was started by my cousin and some friends of his. They wanted to give me a baby shower. We received diapers of all sizes since some of the kids were still in them all day. We received clothes, food, a highchair, etc. It was such a nice and unexpected gesture and it spoke to my heart. God was taking care of us.
Over the course of the next year, diapers would mysteriously appear on Mom's porch. Gift cards with no return addresses arrived in the mail. A beloved uncle sent a check faithfully, every month for two years. I accidentally left the car unlocked one night and the next day there was a bag of coats and clothes that someone left in it.
By the following July, the divorce was final. Though child support and a small amount of alimony was court ordered, we did not receive any. We survived on the food stamps, Mom's generosity, my uncle's generosity, my Dad's generosity, the $600 I arrived with and the small amount of cash assistance I received for three months after the baby was born. No matter what the expenses were, somehow God always provided for us and I never went below that original $600.
The baby had medical problems. She was born with a soft palette cleft and my 20 month old had experienced failure to thrive when she was five months old due to a mysterious metabolic disorder that was never properly diagnosed as well as a 5mm hole in her heart. She was not walking yet and had low muscle tone which made it even worse. Because of these problems, we had either a doctor's appointment or some form of early intervention at the house on an average of every third day.
The baby was diagnosed with a nerve hearing loss at 11 weeks old, was fitted for hearing aids and was regularly wearing them by three months. She had chronic ear infections due to the cleft. She played baby Jesus in the Christmas program and promptly spit up on Mary. I don't think ten-year old Mary was all that impressed. For that matter, I'm pretty sure the wise men all yelled, "Eewwww!!!! GROSS!!!" and I'm fairly certain that was not in the script.
Through it all we were learning to put all trust, all hope in God. When we get to the end of ourselves we find Him in everything. I was asked to give my testimony on the last Sunday of the year in 2001. I immediately declined stating that I was not a public speaker among other excuses. My cousin harassed, I mean encouraged (hi Brad!) me over the course of a couple of weeks and I finally conceded that maybe, perhaps, I might be able to write something and he could read it. He agreed.
As that Sunday drew closer, I could not settle my spirit or find the words that I needed to convey the gratitude and love I had seen in tangible ways since my arrival back in Ohio the previous July. The thought of standing in front of 150 people and talking made my stomach hurt. I had no topic and a severe case of writer's block; something that I had never experienced before. I was informed I would need to do a sound check. My cousin just kind of laughed when I said he didn't need to do a sound check on me when he would be reading my testimony.
The night before I was supposed to do this, I still had no idea what to say, how to say it or how to write it. I went to my sister's house to use their computer. I played with my nieces and nephews and eventually everyone went to bed. Everyone but me. At 4:30am I churned out "The Least of These" and went home to bed. At least I had something to give my cousin.
Mom and I got up and got the kids ready for church. We only lived about two minutes away and that was if we had to wait for traffic. When I got there, my cousin asked for my testimony and then laughed when I said I didn't have a thing written except for this poem so I guessed I would have to get up there and wing it. To say that I was scared would be an understatement and I also wondered what God thought about me "winging it" on Sunday morning.
There were three people giving testimonies that day and I was the last one up. When I walked up there I was not prepared for the bright spotlight nor was I prepared to be unable to see anyone because of it. The light was so bright it was like I was up there all by myself. I said, "Wow! It's bright up here! I hope someone is out there because I can't see you." I heard some laughter so I guessed all was well. I said that I was not a public speaker and made some other stupid remark and they all laughed again which made me much more comfortable.
I gave a little background into the events that precipitated us moving back to Ohio and then I began reading Matthew 25:31-46. Or at least I tried to read it. Each time I started, my voice caught and I could not get the words out. I started this passage three times and each time it was the same thing. I was crashing and burning in front of a whole bunch of people. Or so I thought. What I realized at some point was that there was an awesome and tangible presence of Jesus in the auditorium that day. If we could see the Holy Spirit with our humans eyes, I remain convinced He would have been visible. At some point, I was finally able to read the scripture and I ended with my version of "The Least of These", written the night before.
The poem was inspired by true events. Years ago, there was a man standing with a "will work for food" sign near where I worked. I saw him there everyday for at least three weeks. One day, I knew I could not drive by him one more time. I decided I'd give him whatever was the smallest bill that I had in my wallet. However, by the time I reached him, I had been prompted to give him all of what I had. There were still a couple of days left until payday and I knew my ex-husband did not have any cash either. If I gave all of it away what would we do? "Are you going to trust Me?" was the reply.
I gave everything I had that day and I never saw the man there again. I looked for him for months afterward, but he never reappeared. I often think of that situation and realize that I probably needed this stranger more than he needed me.
The circumstances surrounding the end of my marriage brought home the reality and truth of doing unto the least of these as unto God. At that time in our lives, the kids and I definitely qualified for "the least". When situations don't look good or it seems as if God has abandoned me, I remember the stranger that needed my help. I also remember the various ways God took care of the needs of my family; sometimes through blood relatives and sometimes through relatives by the blood of Christ and I reminded that whenever we do something to help someone else, we are really doing it for Jesus.
Inspired by true events
"The Least of These"
I saw him standing near the road
his clothes were tattered and torn.
He was dirty and ragged.
He needed a shave.
His eyes looked so forlorn.
It wasn't the first time I'd noticed him there.
He'd been there everyday for a week.
But this time as I quickly drove by
a tear ran down my cheek.
I experienced a tugging at my heart.
I heard a quiet voice within.
Gently prodding, urging me
"Share My love with him."
"But Lord," I prayed, "I don't have much
and it looks like his needs are great.
what can I do to make a difference?
Besides, it's getting late.
I've got places to go and so much to do.
There's orchestra practice tonight
and also practice for the Christmas program.
We've just got to get those cues right!"
His still small voice waited patiently.
He listened to me try to explain
why I couldn't help right then
and that's when it started to rain.
The rain turned to sleet.
The sleet turned to snow.
But I journeyed on
I had places to go.
And then it dawned on me.
"Dear Lord," I prayed, "that man back there
has he no coat that he can wear?
And the sign that he held
said he'd work for food.
Lord please use me for Your own good."
"Go to him dear child and share My love.
He needs to know his Father.
He needs food, a coat and My word.
Others have passed who haven't bothered."
I went back home and found a coat,
took the Bible from it's place on the table.
I ran out the door and hurried to the car
I was ready to do what I was able.
He was still standing there
in the snow
with his sign.
I handed him the cash and the coat.
He whispered, "Thank you ma'am for your time."
His voice caught in his throat.
"My wife is sick. She may even die.
I can't find a job and don't even want to try.
I will never be able to repay you for this.
But thank you for stopping. I hope your life will be blessed."
I handed him the Bible and said, "Please, accept this gift.
I pray that as you read it, your heart will start to lift.
It's the story of our Heavenly Father
who sent His only Son.
To die upon the cross for us.
Which saved us.
Everyone.
From Him we can receive the gift
of everlasting life.
If we repent
of our sin
and live each day
just for Him."
I left the man standing pensively in the snow.
Had I done all I could have?
Quite simply, I didn't know.
And then I heard Jesus' still, small voice speaking ever so softly.
"Whatsoever you do unto the least of these, My child, you do unto Me."
-T. Bent 12/2001
I arrived in Ohio with $600 in my pocket, no job and really no means of getting a job due to the pregnancy. Even though I had a college degree, we ended up on food stamps and medicaid and we were living with my mom, an arrangement that would last almost two years to the date. My mind was reeling with the speed in which my life had spun out of control. I stabilized the kids to the best of my ability and began to trust God to provide for us in ways I had never had to trust him before.
I began attending a church that was started by my cousin and some friends of his. They wanted to give me a baby shower. We received diapers of all sizes since some of the kids were still in them all day. We received clothes, food, a highchair, etc. It was such a nice and unexpected gesture and it spoke to my heart. God was taking care of us.
Over the course of the next year, diapers would mysteriously appear on Mom's porch. Gift cards with no return addresses arrived in the mail. A beloved uncle sent a check faithfully, every month for two years. I accidentally left the car unlocked one night and the next day there was a bag of coats and clothes that someone left in it.
By the following July, the divorce was final. Though child support and a small amount of alimony was court ordered, we did not receive any. We survived on the food stamps, Mom's generosity, my uncle's generosity, my Dad's generosity, the $600 I arrived with and the small amount of cash assistance I received for three months after the baby was born. No matter what the expenses were, somehow God always provided for us and I never went below that original $600.
The baby had medical problems. She was born with a soft palette cleft and my 20 month old had experienced failure to thrive when she was five months old due to a mysterious metabolic disorder that was never properly diagnosed as well as a 5mm hole in her heart. She was not walking yet and had low muscle tone which made it even worse. Because of these problems, we had either a doctor's appointment or some form of early intervention at the house on an average of every third day.
The baby was diagnosed with a nerve hearing loss at 11 weeks old, was fitted for hearing aids and was regularly wearing them by three months. She had chronic ear infections due to the cleft. She played baby Jesus in the Christmas program and promptly spit up on Mary. I don't think ten-year old Mary was all that impressed. For that matter, I'm pretty sure the wise men all yelled, "Eewwww!!!! GROSS!!!" and I'm fairly certain that was not in the script.
Through it all we were learning to put all trust, all hope in God. When we get to the end of ourselves we find Him in everything. I was asked to give my testimony on the last Sunday of the year in 2001. I immediately declined stating that I was not a public speaker among other excuses. My cousin harassed, I mean encouraged (hi Brad!) me over the course of a couple of weeks and I finally conceded that maybe, perhaps, I might be able to write something and he could read it. He agreed.
As that Sunday drew closer, I could not settle my spirit or find the words that I needed to convey the gratitude and love I had seen in tangible ways since my arrival back in Ohio the previous July. The thought of standing in front of 150 people and talking made my stomach hurt. I had no topic and a severe case of writer's block; something that I had never experienced before. I was informed I would need to do a sound check. My cousin just kind of laughed when I said he didn't need to do a sound check on me when he would be reading my testimony.
The night before I was supposed to do this, I still had no idea what to say, how to say it or how to write it. I went to my sister's house to use their computer. I played with my nieces and nephews and eventually everyone went to bed. Everyone but me. At 4:30am I churned out "The Least of These" and went home to bed. At least I had something to give my cousin.
Mom and I got up and got the kids ready for church. We only lived about two minutes away and that was if we had to wait for traffic. When I got there, my cousin asked for my testimony and then laughed when I said I didn't have a thing written except for this poem so I guessed I would have to get up there and wing it. To say that I was scared would be an understatement and I also wondered what God thought about me "winging it" on Sunday morning.
There were three people giving testimonies that day and I was the last one up. When I walked up there I was not prepared for the bright spotlight nor was I prepared to be unable to see anyone because of it. The light was so bright it was like I was up there all by myself. I said, "Wow! It's bright up here! I hope someone is out there because I can't see you." I heard some laughter so I guessed all was well. I said that I was not a public speaker and made some other stupid remark and they all laughed again which made me much more comfortable.
I gave a little background into the events that precipitated us moving back to Ohio and then I began reading Matthew 25:31-46. Or at least I tried to read it. Each time I started, my voice caught and I could not get the words out. I started this passage three times and each time it was the same thing. I was crashing and burning in front of a whole bunch of people. Or so I thought. What I realized at some point was that there was an awesome and tangible presence of Jesus in the auditorium that day. If we could see the Holy Spirit with our humans eyes, I remain convinced He would have been visible. At some point, I was finally able to read the scripture and I ended with my version of "The Least of These", written the night before.
The poem was inspired by true events. Years ago, there was a man standing with a "will work for food" sign near where I worked. I saw him there everyday for at least three weeks. One day, I knew I could not drive by him one more time. I decided I'd give him whatever was the smallest bill that I had in my wallet. However, by the time I reached him, I had been prompted to give him all of what I had. There were still a couple of days left until payday and I knew my ex-husband did not have any cash either. If I gave all of it away what would we do? "Are you going to trust Me?" was the reply.
I gave everything I had that day and I never saw the man there again. I looked for him for months afterward, but he never reappeared. I often think of that situation and realize that I probably needed this stranger more than he needed me.
The circumstances surrounding the end of my marriage brought home the reality and truth of doing unto the least of these as unto God. At that time in our lives, the kids and I definitely qualified for "the least". When situations don't look good or it seems as if God has abandoned me, I remember the stranger that needed my help. I also remember the various ways God took care of the needs of my family; sometimes through blood relatives and sometimes through relatives by the blood of Christ and I reminded that whenever we do something to help someone else, we are really doing it for Jesus.
Inspired by true events
"The Least of These"
I saw him standing near the road
his clothes were tattered and torn.
He was dirty and ragged.
He needed a shave.
His eyes looked so forlorn.
It wasn't the first time I'd noticed him there.
He'd been there everyday for a week.
But this time as I quickly drove by
a tear ran down my cheek.
I experienced a tugging at my heart.
I heard a quiet voice within.
Gently prodding, urging me
"Share My love with him."
"But Lord," I prayed, "I don't have much
and it looks like his needs are great.
what can I do to make a difference?
Besides, it's getting late.
I've got places to go and so much to do.
There's orchestra practice tonight
and also practice for the Christmas program.
We've just got to get those cues right!"
His still small voice waited patiently.
He listened to me try to explain
why I couldn't help right then
and that's when it started to rain.
The rain turned to sleet.
The sleet turned to snow.
But I journeyed on
I had places to go.
And then it dawned on me.
"Dear Lord," I prayed, "that man back there
has he no coat that he can wear?
And the sign that he held
said he'd work for food.
Lord please use me for Your own good."
"Go to him dear child and share My love.
He needs to know his Father.
He needs food, a coat and My word.
Others have passed who haven't bothered."
I went back home and found a coat,
took the Bible from it's place on the table.
I ran out the door and hurried to the car
I was ready to do what I was able.
He was still standing there
in the snow
with his sign.
I handed him the cash and the coat.
He whispered, "Thank you ma'am for your time."
His voice caught in his throat.
"My wife is sick. She may even die.
I can't find a job and don't even want to try.
I will never be able to repay you for this.
But thank you for stopping. I hope your life will be blessed."
I handed him the Bible and said, "Please, accept this gift.
I pray that as you read it, your heart will start to lift.
It's the story of our Heavenly Father
who sent His only Son.
To die upon the cross for us.
Which saved us.
Everyone.
From Him we can receive the gift
of everlasting life.
If we repent
of our sin
and live each day
just for Him."
I left the man standing pensively in the snow.
Had I done all I could have?
Quite simply, I didn't know.
And then I heard Jesus' still, small voice speaking ever so softly.
"Whatsoever you do unto the least of these, My child, you do unto Me."
-T. Bent 12/2001
Monday, November 16, 2009
The Red Bike
In the summer of 2002, I was living with my Mom and my four children. I was recently divorced and the kids had not seen their father for ten months or so. Due to the medical problems of two of the kids, I was unable to work and money was extremely tight, to say the least.
One day I was putting my little boy to bed when he said, "Mama, I would like a new bike for Christmas because the bike I have right now is too small for me to ride it very well."
Groaning inwardly, because I knew there was no way a bike was in this child's future, I said, "Well, maybe that's something you should pray about." I decided I'd worry later about teaching him that sometimes God doesn't answer our prayers the way we want him to. For now, he could just pray for the bike that I could not provide for him.
Almost daily, for several months he would pray for that bike. As Christmas drew closer, my anxiety increased because I knew he was going to be disappointed on Christmas morning and there wasn't anything I could do about it.
A letter came in the mail stating that an area business had somehow gotten our name and wondered if they could sponsor the kids for Christmas. I agreed and they proceeded to take the kids names and ages. They told me they would get back with me closer to Christmas so they could set up a time to drop off the gifts.
Since it was closer to Christmas, my son didn't skip a day asking for that bike. Sometimes I would sit downstairs and cry after everyone had gone to bed. I did not want to face his disappointment and I did not want to have to teach him the "we don't always get what we want when we want it even though we pray for it" lesson at the tender age of five.
One day, the phone rang and it was the man I had spoken with from the business who was sponsoring the kids. We set up a time for them to stop by the house and I chose to have them come in the middle of the afternoon while the kids would be taking a nap. We had an area in the garage all staked out to put the stuff so the kids wouldn't see it. The appointed time came and went and while it was getting later and later, I wondered what had happened. Finally, the phone rang and the businessman apologized for being so late. He said he had received an additional $150 that morning and had needed to stop by WalMart so he could add that to the gift card they were going to give us.
Additional $150? I considered that to be a lot of money for a group to put together for a Christmas sponsorship. I asked if he just wanted to mail it to the house instead of coming by and personally delivering it and he said, "No, that's not the only thing we have."
We set up another day and time and this time he was there early. I will never forget these two men. Although I did not know who they were and would not recognize them if I saw them again, these two reminded me just exactly who is in control of our lives.
They unloaded boxes, bags, groceries and one of them handed me the gift card with over $200 on it. I thanked them, though words were inadequate and could not express what was truly in my heart. They said, "Oh, we're not done yet. We haven't brought in the best part yet."
The best part? Good grief, they had unloaded an entire trunk and backseat full of stuff. How could there be anything else?
I was putting some of the groceries in the house while they went out to their car. When I walked back out to the garage there they were; one man holding a brand new red bike and one man holding a brand new pink bike.
Stunned, I said, "Two? Bikes? My son has been praying for a bike for months now."
One of them said, "Well, it looks like it worked. Merry Christmas!" and then they left.
I stood in the garage crying over two little bikes; one red, one pink. I guessed I wouldn't have to be teaching my son about the "not always getting what we want when we want it even though we pray for it" lesson just yet. I hid the bikes anticipating Christmas morning even more than the kids.
On Christmas morning after we had read the Christmas story and the kids had opened their gifts, we went out to the garage where I had removed the bikes from their hiding places. My son's eyes were as big as they could get. "He didn't forget! He didn't forget! I knew if I prayed for it God would find me a bike! I love it! Thank you!"
That was seven years ago. Neither of the bikes are very shiny anymore and they are both too small for anyone in this house. However, I cannot bear to give them away because they represent so much to me. I rather flippantly told my son to pray for something I knew I would not be able to provide for him and he took that idea and consistently and faithfully prayed about it. It wasn't him who needed faith to believe that God would provide, it was me.
I have often said that God needed me to have those bikes even more than my son did. What I learned that Christmas was even when it looks like there is no hope, God is in control and is directing the situation. He sees and knows what our needs are and He provides for them. I also learned that sometimes God provides above our wildest dreams, to give us something even better than what we asked for. Sometimes He gives us two bikes instead of only the one we asked for and sometimes He gives us a promotion instead of just a small raise. Mostly what I learned is that He loves us, He is faithful and He hears and answers our prayers.
Today those two bikes stand in the corner of our garage. There have been many times when I have gone out to look at them or I am reminded of them when I didn't think He was listening to my prayers and in fact, even wondered if He cared about my prayers. They are the tangible evidence of a faithful and loving Father taking care of the fatherless and the simple faith of a little boy.
I dare you to pray without ceasing and see what desires of your own heart God bestows upon you.
One day I was putting my little boy to bed when he said, "Mama, I would like a new bike for Christmas because the bike I have right now is too small for me to ride it very well."
Groaning inwardly, because I knew there was no way a bike was in this child's future, I said, "Well, maybe that's something you should pray about." I decided I'd worry later about teaching him that sometimes God doesn't answer our prayers the way we want him to. For now, he could just pray for the bike that I could not provide for him.
Almost daily, for several months he would pray for that bike. As Christmas drew closer, my anxiety increased because I knew he was going to be disappointed on Christmas morning and there wasn't anything I could do about it.
A letter came in the mail stating that an area business had somehow gotten our name and wondered if they could sponsor the kids for Christmas. I agreed and they proceeded to take the kids names and ages. They told me they would get back with me closer to Christmas so they could set up a time to drop off the gifts.
Since it was closer to Christmas, my son didn't skip a day asking for that bike. Sometimes I would sit downstairs and cry after everyone had gone to bed. I did not want to face his disappointment and I did not want to have to teach him the "we don't always get what we want when we want it even though we pray for it" lesson at the tender age of five.
One day, the phone rang and it was the man I had spoken with from the business who was sponsoring the kids. We set up a time for them to stop by the house and I chose to have them come in the middle of the afternoon while the kids would be taking a nap. We had an area in the garage all staked out to put the stuff so the kids wouldn't see it. The appointed time came and went and while it was getting later and later, I wondered what had happened. Finally, the phone rang and the businessman apologized for being so late. He said he had received an additional $150 that morning and had needed to stop by WalMart so he could add that to the gift card they were going to give us.
Additional $150? I considered that to be a lot of money for a group to put together for a Christmas sponsorship. I asked if he just wanted to mail it to the house instead of coming by and personally delivering it and he said, "No, that's not the only thing we have."
We set up another day and time and this time he was there early. I will never forget these two men. Although I did not know who they were and would not recognize them if I saw them again, these two reminded me just exactly who is in control of our lives.
They unloaded boxes, bags, groceries and one of them handed me the gift card with over $200 on it. I thanked them, though words were inadequate and could not express what was truly in my heart. They said, "Oh, we're not done yet. We haven't brought in the best part yet."
The best part? Good grief, they had unloaded an entire trunk and backseat full of stuff. How could there be anything else?
I was putting some of the groceries in the house while they went out to their car. When I walked back out to the garage there they were; one man holding a brand new red bike and one man holding a brand new pink bike.
Stunned, I said, "Two? Bikes? My son has been praying for a bike for months now."
One of them said, "Well, it looks like it worked. Merry Christmas!" and then they left.
I stood in the garage crying over two little bikes; one red, one pink. I guessed I wouldn't have to be teaching my son about the "not always getting what we want when we want it even though we pray for it" lesson just yet. I hid the bikes anticipating Christmas morning even more than the kids.
On Christmas morning after we had read the Christmas story and the kids had opened their gifts, we went out to the garage where I had removed the bikes from their hiding places. My son's eyes were as big as they could get. "He didn't forget! He didn't forget! I knew if I prayed for it God would find me a bike! I love it! Thank you!"
That was seven years ago. Neither of the bikes are very shiny anymore and they are both too small for anyone in this house. However, I cannot bear to give them away because they represent so much to me. I rather flippantly told my son to pray for something I knew I would not be able to provide for him and he took that idea and consistently and faithfully prayed about it. It wasn't him who needed faith to believe that God would provide, it was me.
I have often said that God needed me to have those bikes even more than my son did. What I learned that Christmas was even when it looks like there is no hope, God is in control and is directing the situation. He sees and knows what our needs are and He provides for them. I also learned that sometimes God provides above our wildest dreams, to give us something even better than what we asked for. Sometimes He gives us two bikes instead of only the one we asked for and sometimes He gives us a promotion instead of just a small raise. Mostly what I learned is that He loves us, He is faithful and He hears and answers our prayers.
Today those two bikes stand in the corner of our garage. There have been many times when I have gone out to look at them or I am reminded of them when I didn't think He was listening to my prayers and in fact, even wondered if He cared about my prayers. They are the tangible evidence of a faithful and loving Father taking care of the fatherless and the simple faith of a little boy.
I dare you to pray without ceasing and see what desires of your own heart God bestows upon you.
Friday, August 14, 2009
How to View a Meteor Shower
When I was younger, I wanted to be an astronomer. Galileo was my hero. Not really, in fact I had to look up how to spell his name. However, it sounds a little better than the truth; that I wanted to find a new galaxy and/or planet and name it after myself so that I could be famous. Because besides Pluto, how many people do you know that have a planet named after them? That's right. No one. And Pluto doesn't count either because he's a dog. Actually, he's just a guy named Herman who's dressed up as a dog named Pluto so that really doesn't count. In the end, naming a planet after yourself sounds kind of egotistical.
Truthfully, it's hard to say what I was thinking during the astronomer phase of my life, but thankfully someone straightened me out about the possibility of facing difficulties in finding employment in that profession. As with my librarian/bookstore owner phase, this vocation fell by the wayside as well. I'm fairly certain that at one point, I decided I would build a planetarium inside my bookstore so whenever I didn't have my nose planted in a book, I would be upstairs finding my new galaxy; planted in the planetarium, if you will. T's Tomes and Extra Terrestrial Tracking (or T Squared E T Squared), has a pretty nice ring to it don't you think? I mean, who wouldn't want to check out the stars and buy a new book at the same time besides my sisters who were of course always scheming against me just because I was the middle kid and all because they were jealous since Mom liked me better and they wanted to make sure that I would fail in my imaginary bookstore/planetarium venture just because they didn't come up with the idea first.
I might need therapy. I mean they might have needed therapy. But not anymore because we are adults now. Well, chronologically speaking we are adults, but none of us act very much like adults. That's over-rated kind of like that whole vote for change thing turned out to be.
Of course I said all of the above because Tuesday and Wednesday night there were meteor showers in the area. I forgot about them on Tuesday night and nearly forgot about them on Wednesday until a really bright meteor streaked across the sky when I was on my way home from WalMart. By the time I arrived home, I had seen two more meteors so I thought it might be fun to watch for awhile.
Since it's never really dark in town and that's where we live, I wondered if I would be able to see any meteors at all. The neighbors have a vapor light and normally I am happy to share their light because it means I don't have to fork over money to put one up in my own yard. Of course by "share" I mean that I get the benefit, but they have to pay for it. Anyway, that's their fault for placing it where they did. They could hide it under a bushel, but no, they let it shine all over Delta.
Now, I am not Satan (right Mom?), however, Wednesday night I seriously considered blowing out that light and/or duct taping a bushel over it just so I could see the meteor shower better. I decided not to though since I was pretty sure that I would either fall off the ladder and injure myself, thereby becoming dependant upon the government's deathcare insurance or else make such a racket that the neighbors would send their dog out to bite me or something. Since neither of those seemed like attractive options, I chose to deal with the light. Besides that, after I was happily situated on our swing, I was surprised to see that although it was a nuisance, I was able to view the meteor shower light shining and all.
I like to call meteor showers "nature's fireworks". Of course I have never actually used the term "nature's fireworks" until about five seconds ago when I typed it but it sounds pretty funny to me and I plan on making my kids call meteor showers by this term from now on. I'll be homeschooling this year so you should probably feel sorry for the kids.
Moving along.
One of the meteors that I saw had sort of a red tail to it and that was pretty neat. In retrospect, if the neighbors light had gone out when that thing streaked across the sky, I probably would have hightailed it into the house assuming that Satan had just blown out their light and was stalking me yet again. Most of the meteors were pretty much white light though. If you like white fireworks or possibly white Christmas lights, then you would probably like to view a meteor shower some day. It also helps if your idea of fun is sitting or laying outside in the the pitch black, damp night and staring at the sky wondering when or if the next meteor is going to go streaking across the horizon.
Here are my tips for viewing a meteor shower in no particular order.
1. Get a box and poke a very small hole in it...oops. Those are the directions for a solar eclipse.
Ok, here's the list:
1. Go in the house. I know you are probably thinking that is pretty stupid advice unless you have a planetarium built into your attic, which I would venture to say that most people do not. However, I seemed to need to go into the house a lot during the time I spent communing with nature's fireworks.
First, I needed a blanket because the cushions on the swing were very dewy. After I retrieved the blanket and situated it on the swing, I saw three meteors within five minutes.
Next, I needed to go in for a pillow because the swing's cushions were not all that comfortable after about 45 seconds or so. Also, my arm fell asleep because I had it jammed under my head trying to compensate for the cruddy swing cushions. When I placed the pillow on the swing and once again got situated, I saw two more meteors.
Later, I needed to go back into the house for a second blanket because it got pretty chilly outside. I have a rule about not wearing a coat before November, sweatpants before October and I haven't crammed my feet in a pair of socks since early May. Because of these asinine rules I made up for myself in Junior High, I had to go back into the house and get a blanket to cover up with since I don't have any rules about blankets. I came back outside, laid down on the swing, covered up with the blanket and just like magic, I saw three more meteors.
It was probably inevitable that I needed to go into the house for a drink of water. I could have used a water bottle, but everyone knows it's dangerous to drink out of plastic bottles now due to the threat of getting cancer and possibly having to rely on the government to tell you it's time to die instead of treating you (see page 435 of the Deathcare Code). I'm sorry, I believe I might have digressed into another topic there. After I was thoroughly satiated (look it up Val) I was able to see four or five meteors almost immediately upon coming back outside. It was as if they were waiting for me to return every time I had to forage for supplies in the house. As you can see, going into the house is a good idea when viewing a meteor shower.
2. You should also pretend you are going to go in the house. What? It worked every time. I started to get a little tired around 3:00am so each time I thought about heading into the house to go to bed, I would see several meteors in a short period of time. It was as if nature's fireworks could understand what I was thinking so they would hurry up and fall out of the sky just to keep me sitting there waiting for the grass to grow. I mean for the meteors to fall.
3. Look towards the East. If you look towards the East, out of the corner of your eye, you will catch the meteors falling in the South and North. If you look South, you will catch East and West. If you look West, you will catch North and South. What I am saying is the meteors will probably fall wherever you are not looking so you have to be quick about noticing them. They only last between one and three seconds according to a national news channel. However, I think the three second statement was slightly over-rated. Much like this new health/death care plan the government is trying to ram through Congress. I think I digressed again and probably sealed my fate so that I will never be able to get deathcare from the government. It's too bad too. Because last night I was looking off to the South hoping to catch a three second meteor and I got whiplash when I had to hurry up in order to view the one second meteor that was falling in the East. I really need a chiropractor now.
4. Depending on your age, it's a bad idea to text while trying to watch a meteor shower. After viewing the bright screen and then trying to look at the dark sky, the contrast is really almost more than anyone whose eyes are older than 18 or possibly mid-20's, can adjust to. Of course, younger people would probably not need to actually look at their screens anyway because they have a gene which allows them to text without having to look at the buttons.
They also practice these skills in school. Today, kids have to be able to send a minimum of five hundred texts during one class period or else they are in danger of not meeting graduation requirements. Since our schools require them to be proficient in texting and apparently taking inaccurate notes on our method of government at the same time, I'm not sure why they are crashing their cars while texting. Perhaps some of them have a defective texting gene and are sadly unable to multi-task. If this is the case, the deathcare plan will address what needs to be done with these people. If thousands of them are texting and crashing their cars, the goverment death counselors can help convince the person who crashed that they are not skilled or proficient enough to continue living. It's called over-chlorinating the gene pool.
5. Fall asleep. It would seem that one cannot view nature's fireworks if one is asleep but that assumption is not accurate. At some point last night, I dozed off and when I woke up, it was just like magic. I almost believed that someone in Washington waved his or her magic wand just so I was able to view three more meteors while I was packing up my gear and heading back into the house. Of course then reality set in when I realized that unless the Meteor Shower Viewing Act had actually been introduced into Congress 45 years ago, the government had nothing to do with it. They would still be trying to figure out how to tax me for watching the previously free show and turning the original two hundred page document into enough paper to supply a mid-sized elementary school for the upcoming school year, while somehow still justifying charging parents $800 in school fees and supplies. I also wouldn't have been able to view the shower without written authorization from the deathcare counselor lest a stray meteor accidentally fall on me, thereby causing me to actually have to use deathcare insurance for a medical need. Since NASA knew about the meteor shower and most news networks were encouraging people to watch it, it's entirely possible any damage inflicted upon me from the falling meteor would have been considered a pre-existing condition and therefore excluded from compulsory compensation by the government.
I conservatively estimate that I saw somewhere around 30 meteors or so in the span of time I was outside. I was pretty impressed with that. Even if my name isn't Galileo, Pluto or even Herman for that matter and I don't have a planet named after me, I thought it was pretty cool of God to put on the show for me and remind me who's really in control.
"The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth His handiwork."
Truthfully, it's hard to say what I was thinking during the astronomer phase of my life, but thankfully someone straightened me out about the possibility of facing difficulties in finding employment in that profession. As with my librarian/bookstore owner phase, this vocation fell by the wayside as well. I'm fairly certain that at one point, I decided I would build a planetarium inside my bookstore so whenever I didn't have my nose planted in a book, I would be upstairs finding my new galaxy; planted in the planetarium, if you will. T's Tomes and Extra Terrestrial Tracking (or T Squared E T Squared), has a pretty nice ring to it don't you think? I mean, who wouldn't want to check out the stars and buy a new book at the same time besides my sisters who were of course always scheming against me just because I was the middle kid and all because they were jealous since Mom liked me better and they wanted to make sure that I would fail in my imaginary bookstore/planetarium venture just because they didn't come up with the idea first.
I might need therapy. I mean they might have needed therapy. But not anymore because we are adults now. Well, chronologically speaking we are adults, but none of us act very much like adults. That's over-rated kind of like that whole vote for change thing turned out to be.
Of course I said all of the above because Tuesday and Wednesday night there were meteor showers in the area. I forgot about them on Tuesday night and nearly forgot about them on Wednesday until a really bright meteor streaked across the sky when I was on my way home from WalMart. By the time I arrived home, I had seen two more meteors so I thought it might be fun to watch for awhile.
Since it's never really dark in town and that's where we live, I wondered if I would be able to see any meteors at all. The neighbors have a vapor light and normally I am happy to share their light because it means I don't have to fork over money to put one up in my own yard. Of course by "share" I mean that I get the benefit, but they have to pay for it. Anyway, that's their fault for placing it where they did. They could hide it under a bushel, but no, they let it shine all over Delta.
Now, I am not Satan (right Mom?), however, Wednesday night I seriously considered blowing out that light and/or duct taping a bushel over it just so I could see the meteor shower better. I decided not to though since I was pretty sure that I would either fall off the ladder and injure myself, thereby becoming dependant upon the government's deathcare insurance or else make such a racket that the neighbors would send their dog out to bite me or something. Since neither of those seemed like attractive options, I chose to deal with the light. Besides that, after I was happily situated on our swing, I was surprised to see that although it was a nuisance, I was able to view the meteor shower light shining and all.
I like to call meteor showers "nature's fireworks". Of course I have never actually used the term "nature's fireworks" until about five seconds ago when I typed it but it sounds pretty funny to me and I plan on making my kids call meteor showers by this term from now on. I'll be homeschooling this year so you should probably feel sorry for the kids.
Moving along.
One of the meteors that I saw had sort of a red tail to it and that was pretty neat. In retrospect, if the neighbors light had gone out when that thing streaked across the sky, I probably would have hightailed it into the house assuming that Satan had just blown out their light and was stalking me yet again. Most of the meteors were pretty much white light though. If you like white fireworks or possibly white Christmas lights, then you would probably like to view a meteor shower some day. It also helps if your idea of fun is sitting or laying outside in the the pitch black, damp night and staring at the sky wondering when or if the next meteor is going to go streaking across the horizon.
Here are my tips for viewing a meteor shower in no particular order.
1. Get a box and poke a very small hole in it...oops. Those are the directions for a solar eclipse.
Ok, here's the list:
1. Go in the house. I know you are probably thinking that is pretty stupid advice unless you have a planetarium built into your attic, which I would venture to say that most people do not. However, I seemed to need to go into the house a lot during the time I spent communing with nature's fireworks.
First, I needed a blanket because the cushions on the swing were very dewy. After I retrieved the blanket and situated it on the swing, I saw three meteors within five minutes.
Next, I needed to go in for a pillow because the swing's cushions were not all that comfortable after about 45 seconds or so. Also, my arm fell asleep because I had it jammed under my head trying to compensate for the cruddy swing cushions. When I placed the pillow on the swing and once again got situated, I saw two more meteors.
Later, I needed to go back into the house for a second blanket because it got pretty chilly outside. I have a rule about not wearing a coat before November, sweatpants before October and I haven't crammed my feet in a pair of socks since early May. Because of these asinine rules I made up for myself in Junior High, I had to go back into the house and get a blanket to cover up with since I don't have any rules about blankets. I came back outside, laid down on the swing, covered up with the blanket and just like magic, I saw three more meteors.
It was probably inevitable that I needed to go into the house for a drink of water. I could have used a water bottle, but everyone knows it's dangerous to drink out of plastic bottles now due to the threat of getting cancer and possibly having to rely on the government to tell you it's time to die instead of treating you (see page 435 of the Deathcare Code). I'm sorry, I believe I might have digressed into another topic there. After I was thoroughly satiated (look it up Val) I was able to see four or five meteors almost immediately upon coming back outside. It was as if they were waiting for me to return every time I had to forage for supplies in the house. As you can see, going into the house is a good idea when viewing a meteor shower.
2. You should also pretend you are going to go in the house. What? It worked every time. I started to get a little tired around 3:00am so each time I thought about heading into the house to go to bed, I would see several meteors in a short period of time. It was as if nature's fireworks could understand what I was thinking so they would hurry up and fall out of the sky just to keep me sitting there waiting for the grass to grow. I mean for the meteors to fall.
3. Look towards the East. If you look towards the East, out of the corner of your eye, you will catch the meteors falling in the South and North. If you look South, you will catch East and West. If you look West, you will catch North and South. What I am saying is the meteors will probably fall wherever you are not looking so you have to be quick about noticing them. They only last between one and three seconds according to a national news channel. However, I think the three second statement was slightly over-rated. Much like this new health/death care plan the government is trying to ram through Congress. I think I digressed again and probably sealed my fate so that I will never be able to get deathcare from the government. It's too bad too. Because last night I was looking off to the South hoping to catch a three second meteor and I got whiplash when I had to hurry up in order to view the one second meteor that was falling in the East. I really need a chiropractor now.
4. Depending on your age, it's a bad idea to text while trying to watch a meteor shower. After viewing the bright screen and then trying to look at the dark sky, the contrast is really almost more than anyone whose eyes are older than 18 or possibly mid-20's, can adjust to. Of course, younger people would probably not need to actually look at their screens anyway because they have a gene which allows them to text without having to look at the buttons.
They also practice these skills in school. Today, kids have to be able to send a minimum of five hundred texts during one class period or else they are in danger of not meeting graduation requirements. Since our schools require them to be proficient in texting and apparently taking inaccurate notes on our method of government at the same time, I'm not sure why they are crashing their cars while texting. Perhaps some of them have a defective texting gene and are sadly unable to multi-task. If this is the case, the deathcare plan will address what needs to be done with these people. If thousands of them are texting and crashing their cars, the goverment death counselors can help convince the person who crashed that they are not skilled or proficient enough to continue living. It's called over-chlorinating the gene pool.
5. Fall asleep. It would seem that one cannot view nature's fireworks if one is asleep but that assumption is not accurate. At some point last night, I dozed off and when I woke up, it was just like magic. I almost believed that someone in Washington waved his or her magic wand just so I was able to view three more meteors while I was packing up my gear and heading back into the house. Of course then reality set in when I realized that unless the Meteor Shower Viewing Act had actually been introduced into Congress 45 years ago, the government had nothing to do with it. They would still be trying to figure out how to tax me for watching the previously free show and turning the original two hundred page document into enough paper to supply a mid-sized elementary school for the upcoming school year, while somehow still justifying charging parents $800 in school fees and supplies. I also wouldn't have been able to view the shower without written authorization from the deathcare counselor lest a stray meteor accidentally fall on me, thereby causing me to actually have to use deathcare insurance for a medical need. Since NASA knew about the meteor shower and most news networks were encouraging people to watch it, it's entirely possible any damage inflicted upon me from the falling meteor would have been considered a pre-existing condition and therefore excluded from compulsory compensation by the government.
I conservatively estimate that I saw somewhere around 30 meteors or so in the span of time I was outside. I was pretty impressed with that. Even if my name isn't Galileo, Pluto or even Herman for that matter and I don't have a planet named after me, I thought it was pretty cool of God to put on the show for me and remind me who's really in control.
"The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth His handiwork."
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Dogs Part 1
My sister and brother-in-law were scheduled to go to Italy and other parts of Europe for most of the month of June. Since they have nine dogs, this required scheduling a dog-sitter to come and stay at their house to take care of them. After they scheduled the person who usually does this for them and started finalizing the plans for their trip, the dog sitter called and said she couldn't do it. Mel called and told me what had happened and was pretty upset that the dog-sitter had backed out on them. We were scheduled for a family reunion with Mike's brothers at Disney from July 2 - July 9 and since we were already heading down south, then why not add a few days or in this case a month or so and take care of the dogs? We were already going to be there, sort of, and they already had a lot of plans in place for their European vacation.
Thus, the Summer of Laziness was born.
It had been a year since Mel told me they were planning their trip and we joked around at that time about us coming to stay with the dogs then. I guess we should have just planned on it from the beginning.
In order for me to be away from my job for most of the summer, it required me working a lot of long and late hours during the last part of the school year so we could go. I looked at my schedule and pushed everything I needed to do in June and part of July into May. I finished most of what I wanted to get done, packed a few things that didn't and headed South on May 30 for 7 weeks of sweltering heat and dog kisses. Suffice it to say that in some ways I had no idea what we were getting into.
The kids were already in Gatlinburg because they left the last day of school and travelled with Dad so they didn't have to ride the whole way to Florida in one stretch. They were pretty hyped up about seeing Aunt Mel, Uncle Larry and the dogs by the time I met up with them four days later, so I'm sure any thoughts Dad and Stephanie might have had of a peaceful break in the mountains went out the window until the kids were picked up. They had only known about this part of the trip for three days. Since they were still in school, I didn't tell them until two days before the school year was over that we were heading down to take care of the dogs. I figured once I told them, they weren't going to be able to get anything done at school.
We arrived at Mel's house and met the dogs for the third time. I'm not sure if they actually remembered us but maybe they did. We had seen them in December of last year and everyone, kids and dogs alike were excited at the prospect of spending the summer together. Ok. I did not actually verify this with the dogs and they really had no idea what was about to happen to them. I'm just saying that there was a lot of tail wagging, jumping, barking and kissing going on.
Here's the cast of characters:
Rascal aka "Wascal" aka "Wascally Wabbit" is the most senior of the dogs at age 10. He is a gray mini poodle with all of the usual poodle attributes. He is usually a sweet little dog but when he was sleeping on the kids bed, he growled and curled his lip at me when I had to come in to get him and take him outside. At one point, I was actually more concerned that he was going to bite me when I had to take him outside than I ever was about any of the 75lb+ shepherds. Go figure. He likes to cuddle up on the couch or the chair or really any place, anyone will let him. This dog is a little attention sponge. He has an amazingly funny and slightly irritating way of barking when he is excited. The first time I heard it I thought he was hurt but then I quickly discovered that he was just happy.
Mikko aka "Meek" aka "Meeky" is the most senior of the shepherds. He is a white shepherd but he has some color on his back. I think he is around five years old now. He has hip displaysia so he doesn't do a lot of playing around as much as the other dogs. He likes to play by himself sometimes because the other dogs knock him down due to his hips. Mikko likes to mark his food dish with his tennis balls and it is not uncommon to find two or three piled up in his dish. He is pretty laid back but is definitely the alpha dog of the pack although he is a quiet ruler. Meek has a very sweet personality and there were plenty of times I saw a kid or two laying on one of the dog beds with Meek stretched out beside them. Meek lived through the three hurricanes that hit this part of the state a few years ago. Prior to that, he was not afraid of storms. After that though, he developed a pretty healthy fear thunderstorms. Poor Meek sometimes has to take the equivalent of Valium but he is usually ok if he is in the main part of the house with his humans.
Angelo aka "Ang" is the other white male shepherd. He is snow white and very regal in his attitude and appearance. If he was human, he would probably be very confident and possibly slightly conceited. Most likely he would be some type of businessman. Ang has a very neat personality also. He would stand all day and let you pet him and if anyone else tried to hone in on his attention, he would have to give them a warning growl that he was not going to share his attention at that time. He likes to play ball and would race Dakota when they were out together. When he was laying around the house, he reminded me a little of the Fonz. Ang is very cool and all the kids would want to be like him if he was in high school. He is also Tebo's teacher and occasionally puts Teeb in his place by growling at him until he submits. Once Tebo does what Ang wants him to do, he is happy and usually walks away.
Dakota aka "Kota Girl" is the female white shepherd. She is larger than the boys. This dog would die from a heart attack chasing Frisbees, balls and anything else you might throw her way before she would consider stopping. We had to be really careful when we took her outside to play because it was so hot and she likes to play ball so much. She is a very sweet dog also. She was always ready for something, anything and could smile up a storm. She is sometimes clumsy and frequently stepped on my foot when I let her in and out of the house. At 125 lbs., that really didn't feel so good. When she wasn't playing ball, she would lay down and let the kids pet her but she is really a very big bundle of energy.
Tebo aka "Teeb" is the newest addition to the family, joining when we were down there in December. He's a black and tan shep, not quite a year old yet. He is slightly bigger than Mikko, almost as tall as Angelo, has huge paws and is very beautiful. He has to watch the older shepherds to understand what he is supposed to be doing and if he is separated from them, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He likes to play but is sometimes confused about the rules of playing ball (i.e, "You mean you want me to drop it, bring it back to you, oh look at the little lizardddd...."). However, he could sit on command even if he didn't want to stay sitting long enough to get a hug. Also, the older, wiser sheps have to put him in his place when he gets out of line so he understands that he is not the alpha or even the beta dog here.
Kyla aka "Kyla Pup" is a schnauzer of about three years old. She likes to yodel and can stand on her hind legs and twirl around for a treat. She is slightly neurotic and guards her toys as if her life depends on it. She sleeps under the bed sometimes with only her stubby tail sticking out and has the most beautiful eyelashes. There are women who would kill to have eyelashes like hers. Kyla never stopped barking at us every time we opened the pocket door to the spare bedrooms. Those rooms aren't used very often so she wasn't used to someone going in and out. It was funny. Kyla is kind of a loner but occasionally she would join in the fray. Sometimes, seemingly out of nowhere, she would start barking and stir up everyone else. She probably had good reason to bark but I never figured out what it was. She loved for us to pet her but only if it was within eyesight of her toys.
Spirit aka "Spirity" is a black, silver Skye terrier. Skyes are funny shaped dogs from Scotland and as with many terrier breeds, were used to catch vermin back in the old days. They are long with very short legs of about 3 or 4 inches. If they stand on their hind legs, they are able to easily reach the counter. Anyway, Spirit came to Mel after the death of her beloved 20 year old Yorkie, BJ. Spirit is a happy little/big dog with a huge personality. She can be pretty stubborn and on more than one occasion we had to carry her outside to go to the bathroom because she was busy doing something else; usually lounging around on the arm of the couch. She would race around the bed or up and down the couch with her ears pricked up and a mischievous smile on her face. Spirit was very generous with her kisses and loved getting pets from us.
Echo aka "Echo Pupper Dog" aka "Sweetie Pup" is also a black, silver Skye and for the following reasons, she stole my heart. Echo had been abused at her previous home and it took over a year for her to develop trust. When I saw her in December I could see that she wanted to be friendly and she wanted to have some pets from us. She was so curious about who we were, but she was just too afraid and so she had to make do with observing safely out of range of hands and feet that had probably once done damage to her. The day before we left last December, Echo hopped up on the bed and sat beside me, licking my hand. She was ok with this arrangement as long as I didn't actually make eye contact with her. She stayed that way for a long time and it made me sad to leave because I could see how much she really wanted to connect, but her past would not allow her to. I wanted to pick her up and hug her but I knew that would probably scare the daylights out of her so I just quietly talked to her instead.
What a difference six months makes!
When we arrived this summer, I was so happy to see that Echo had made a major breakthrough in being able to trust humans. When we arrived, I wasn't sure who was Spirit and who was Echo because she had joined in the happy, barking, licking, jumping, running around love fest that was going on. Mel said she spent a long time just working with her and being patient and gradually, Echo learned to trust that not all people are jerks who want to hurt her. It was an amazing transformation from what I had seen in December. This was the one dog I was worried about when we decided to come to take care of them. I didn't want her to be even more afraid with four kids running around her house, I wasn't sure if she would warm up to us and I was afraid it might be a really long summer for her. Turns out I didn't need to worry about it after all. She smiles too.
Scout aka "Scouty" aka "Scouter Dog" aka "Vulture Dog" after his penchant for perching on the back of the couch, is a buff colored Skye. He is a happy little man with a big personality. He likes to protect to the point of even growling at the sheps from time to time even though they are ten times bigger than he is. In an entry I plan on writing later, you will see how this attitude got him into some scary trouble though. Anyway, he smiles a lot and when he is in protection mode, I would not want to go toe to toe with him. He might be a short dog, but he weighs somewhere around 25 lbs or so and he can pack a punch. Mel says Scouty is like Eeyore. He can really work the pathetic act and make you feel sorry for him. He likes to cuddle on the couch also but mostly, he just loves to have his belly rubbed. Scouty is perfectly incapable of not turning over on his back for belly rubs. I believe I saw this dog laying on his back more than I saw him on his stomach. He has a silly personality and is probably the alpha male of the small dogs if there is such a thing. Scouty prances when he walks and of course he smiles too.
I loved having the opportunity to take care of these dogs this summer and I had a lot of fun doing it. They are all unique individually and as a whole and they work together to create a really neat environment. Each one makes a special contribution to the whole unit and I loved them all.
Thus, the Summer of Laziness was born.
It had been a year since Mel told me they were planning their trip and we joked around at that time about us coming to stay with the dogs then. I guess we should have just planned on it from the beginning.
In order for me to be away from my job for most of the summer, it required me working a lot of long and late hours during the last part of the school year so we could go. I looked at my schedule and pushed everything I needed to do in June and part of July into May. I finished most of what I wanted to get done, packed a few things that didn't and headed South on May 30 for 7 weeks of sweltering heat and dog kisses. Suffice it to say that in some ways I had no idea what we were getting into.
The kids were already in Gatlinburg because they left the last day of school and travelled with Dad so they didn't have to ride the whole way to Florida in one stretch. They were pretty hyped up about seeing Aunt Mel, Uncle Larry and the dogs by the time I met up with them four days later, so I'm sure any thoughts Dad and Stephanie might have had of a peaceful break in the mountains went out the window until the kids were picked up. They had only known about this part of the trip for three days. Since they were still in school, I didn't tell them until two days before the school year was over that we were heading down to take care of the dogs. I figured once I told them, they weren't going to be able to get anything done at school.
We arrived at Mel's house and met the dogs for the third time. I'm not sure if they actually remembered us but maybe they did. We had seen them in December of last year and everyone, kids and dogs alike were excited at the prospect of spending the summer together. Ok. I did not actually verify this with the dogs and they really had no idea what was about to happen to them. I'm just saying that there was a lot of tail wagging, jumping, barking and kissing going on.
Here's the cast of characters:
Rascal aka "Wascal" aka "Wascally Wabbit" is the most senior of the dogs at age 10. He is a gray mini poodle with all of the usual poodle attributes. He is usually a sweet little dog but when he was sleeping on the kids bed, he growled and curled his lip at me when I had to come in to get him and take him outside. At one point, I was actually more concerned that he was going to bite me when I had to take him outside than I ever was about any of the 75lb+ shepherds. Go figure. He likes to cuddle up on the couch or the chair or really any place, anyone will let him. This dog is a little attention sponge. He has an amazingly funny and slightly irritating way of barking when he is excited. The first time I heard it I thought he was hurt but then I quickly discovered that he was just happy.
Mikko aka "Meek" aka "Meeky" is the most senior of the shepherds. He is a white shepherd but he has some color on his back. I think he is around five years old now. He has hip displaysia so he doesn't do a lot of playing around as much as the other dogs. He likes to play by himself sometimes because the other dogs knock him down due to his hips. Mikko likes to mark his food dish with his tennis balls and it is not uncommon to find two or three piled up in his dish. He is pretty laid back but is definitely the alpha dog of the pack although he is a quiet ruler. Meek has a very sweet personality and there were plenty of times I saw a kid or two laying on one of the dog beds with Meek stretched out beside them. Meek lived through the three hurricanes that hit this part of the state a few years ago. Prior to that, he was not afraid of storms. After that though, he developed a pretty healthy fear thunderstorms. Poor Meek sometimes has to take the equivalent of Valium but he is usually ok if he is in the main part of the house with his humans.
Angelo aka "Ang" is the other white male shepherd. He is snow white and very regal in his attitude and appearance. If he was human, he would probably be very confident and possibly slightly conceited. Most likely he would be some type of businessman. Ang has a very neat personality also. He would stand all day and let you pet him and if anyone else tried to hone in on his attention, he would have to give them a warning growl that he was not going to share his attention at that time. He likes to play ball and would race Dakota when they were out together. When he was laying around the house, he reminded me a little of the Fonz. Ang is very cool and all the kids would want to be like him if he was in high school. He is also Tebo's teacher and occasionally puts Teeb in his place by growling at him until he submits. Once Tebo does what Ang wants him to do, he is happy and usually walks away.
Dakota aka "Kota Girl" is the female white shepherd. She is larger than the boys. This dog would die from a heart attack chasing Frisbees, balls and anything else you might throw her way before she would consider stopping. We had to be really careful when we took her outside to play because it was so hot and she likes to play ball so much. She is a very sweet dog also. She was always ready for something, anything and could smile up a storm. She is sometimes clumsy and frequently stepped on my foot when I let her in and out of the house. At 125 lbs., that really didn't feel so good. When she wasn't playing ball, she would lay down and let the kids pet her but she is really a very big bundle of energy.
Tebo aka "Teeb" is the newest addition to the family, joining when we were down there in December. He's a black and tan shep, not quite a year old yet. He is slightly bigger than Mikko, almost as tall as Angelo, has huge paws and is very beautiful. He has to watch the older shepherds to understand what he is supposed to be doing and if he is separated from them, he doesn't know what to do with himself. He likes to play but is sometimes confused about the rules of playing ball (i.e, "You mean you want me to drop it, bring it back to you, oh look at the little lizardddd...."). However, he could sit on command even if he didn't want to stay sitting long enough to get a hug. Also, the older, wiser sheps have to put him in his place when he gets out of line so he understands that he is not the alpha or even the beta dog here.
Kyla aka "Kyla Pup" is a schnauzer of about three years old. She likes to yodel and can stand on her hind legs and twirl around for a treat. She is slightly neurotic and guards her toys as if her life depends on it. She sleeps under the bed sometimes with only her stubby tail sticking out and has the most beautiful eyelashes. There are women who would kill to have eyelashes like hers. Kyla never stopped barking at us every time we opened the pocket door to the spare bedrooms. Those rooms aren't used very often so she wasn't used to someone going in and out. It was funny. Kyla is kind of a loner but occasionally she would join in the fray. Sometimes, seemingly out of nowhere, she would start barking and stir up everyone else. She probably had good reason to bark but I never figured out what it was. She loved for us to pet her but only if it was within eyesight of her toys.
Spirit aka "Spirity" is a black, silver Skye terrier. Skyes are funny shaped dogs from Scotland and as with many terrier breeds, were used to catch vermin back in the old days. They are long with very short legs of about 3 or 4 inches. If they stand on their hind legs, they are able to easily reach the counter. Anyway, Spirit came to Mel after the death of her beloved 20 year old Yorkie, BJ. Spirit is a happy little/big dog with a huge personality. She can be pretty stubborn and on more than one occasion we had to carry her outside to go to the bathroom because she was busy doing something else; usually lounging around on the arm of the couch. She would race around the bed or up and down the couch with her ears pricked up and a mischievous smile on her face. Spirit was very generous with her kisses and loved getting pets from us.
Echo aka "Echo Pupper Dog" aka "Sweetie Pup" is also a black, silver Skye and for the following reasons, she stole my heart. Echo had been abused at her previous home and it took over a year for her to develop trust. When I saw her in December I could see that she wanted to be friendly and she wanted to have some pets from us. She was so curious about who we were, but she was just too afraid and so she had to make do with observing safely out of range of hands and feet that had probably once done damage to her. The day before we left last December, Echo hopped up on the bed and sat beside me, licking my hand. She was ok with this arrangement as long as I didn't actually make eye contact with her. She stayed that way for a long time and it made me sad to leave because I could see how much she really wanted to connect, but her past would not allow her to. I wanted to pick her up and hug her but I knew that would probably scare the daylights out of her so I just quietly talked to her instead.
What a difference six months makes!
When we arrived this summer, I was so happy to see that Echo had made a major breakthrough in being able to trust humans. When we arrived, I wasn't sure who was Spirit and who was Echo because she had joined in the happy, barking, licking, jumping, running around love fest that was going on. Mel said she spent a long time just working with her and being patient and gradually, Echo learned to trust that not all people are jerks who want to hurt her. It was an amazing transformation from what I had seen in December. This was the one dog I was worried about when we decided to come to take care of them. I didn't want her to be even more afraid with four kids running around her house, I wasn't sure if she would warm up to us and I was afraid it might be a really long summer for her. Turns out I didn't need to worry about it after all. She smiles too.
Scout aka "Scouty" aka "Scouter Dog" aka "Vulture Dog" after his penchant for perching on the back of the couch, is a buff colored Skye. He is a happy little man with a big personality. He likes to protect to the point of even growling at the sheps from time to time even though they are ten times bigger than he is. In an entry I plan on writing later, you will see how this attitude got him into some scary trouble though. Anyway, he smiles a lot and when he is in protection mode, I would not want to go toe to toe with him. He might be a short dog, but he weighs somewhere around 25 lbs or so and he can pack a punch. Mel says Scouty is like Eeyore. He can really work the pathetic act and make you feel sorry for him. He likes to cuddle on the couch also but mostly, he just loves to have his belly rubbed. Scouty is perfectly incapable of not turning over on his back for belly rubs. I believe I saw this dog laying on his back more than I saw him on his stomach. He has a silly personality and is probably the alpha male of the small dogs if there is such a thing. Scouty prances when he walks and of course he smiles too.
I loved having the opportunity to take care of these dogs this summer and I had a lot of fun doing it. They are all unique individually and as a whole and they work together to create a really neat environment. Each one makes a special contribution to the whole unit and I loved them all.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Florida Fashion
I am by no means a fashion consultant. If you ask me whether or not something goes together I will probably say yes as long as it isn't purple and blue or orange and red in the same outfit. If it's clean and the colors don't make me throw up or clash, then it works for me. Once I actually wore something to church and asked someone if what I had on looked ok together. A friend felt sorry for me and actually went to the store and showed me what would look good on me. She was right too. How did she know that? Usually, I feel as if I have a mutated fashion gene when I am around people like that.
Stuff that looks good on other people or on the mannequin usually makes me look like I'm trying to be 23 again instead of 42. I know basic things such as white goes with everything and for the most part, so does black, unless of course it's brown, then it doesn't work. Who made up that rule? Stacy and Clinton? It sounds suspiciously like the "'i' bfore 'e' except after 'c' rule in spelling which I happen to have a much better grasp of than fashion. Because I knew the "white with everything" rule, for awhile I had a lot of white shirts, a few different colors for shorts and maybe a pair of white dress pants.
Then someone had to go and start the khaki bandwagon. What? What am I supposed to wear with that? Red? Blue? Black? White, perhaps? Was khaki supposed to be the new white similar to brown as the new black that I heard awhile ago? I looked in the crayon box, white is not khaki and brown is not black. They are all separate crayons. Check it out for yourself. The back to school supplies are in stock at your local WalMart by now. It took me awhile to be able to say "khaki" without laughing let alone trying to find something to wear with it. The word khaki sounds like something an infant would do that would require a lot of baby wipes to clean up. Anyway, I also know you aren't supposed to wear white before Memorial Day so I had a real problem from about Labor Day through May. Sometimes I pushed the limits and wore my white into October. I figured if we could still see the sun in NW Ohio, I could still wear white.
The real dilemma was what to wear in the winter. I guess once upon a time someone happened to be wearing white and was standing out by their mailbox and got run over by a snowplow. This prompted the Department of Transportation to mandate a new law disallowing the wearing of white in the winter. Of course that prompted the fashion gurus to come up with a new color called "winter white" which everyone knows is really "off white" or "eggshell" or "bone" which is what my Dad paints all of his walls with because it goes with everything. Good thing I knew this so I could stock up on winter white fashion. I also had a small amount of black for safety measures. You never know when there might be a blizzard and you have to go to your mailbox since everyone knows the post office delivers mail in all types of weather except for possibly hurricanes. The only rule I know of in this situation is you should be careful about wearing black and white together because it looks a little bit like you just got released from jail.
I usually look like I've either just stepped out of the barn for a few minutes or else I look like a general slop. Sometimes, I manage to pull off both looks at the same time, which I personally refer to as "multiple fashion errors". When I go to the store, I look at "nice" clothes but then somehow I always end up with another blue t-shirt instead of a dress. For the record, I haven't worn a dress since Mike and I got married. As for him, he wore a long sleeved blue t-shirt. And jeans. We might have promised to love, honor, cherish and make sure the other one doesn't look too sloppy when we go out for dinner but I can't remember that part for sure without getting out the video.
Do you see the problem here? It isn't as if we don't know better. It's just that we usually think we can get another year or two out of our clothes since it's the kids who are growing out of theirs faster than I can spell Hollister, Abercombie or run a google search to see if I spelled those correctly and to figure out what happened to Fitch. The problem with getting another year or two out of clothes is that if you do it too many times pretty soon people are pointing and laughing at your rainbow shirt and Jordache jeans from the 80's. Now that was some real fashion, but only if you had the jeans with the embellishment on the pockets. Plain pockets were nerdy.
A few years ago I was scrolling through the TV lineup when I ran across the show "What Not to Wear". Well, clearly I have a problem so I thought I'd watch and pick up a tip or two. After watching this show, I can safely say that if I'm wearing it, Stacy and Clinton would be yelling at me to throw it away if I was on that show. That would probably hurt my feelings similar to when Mom threw out my old Nike hightops. What was she thinking? Those were the most comfortable pair of shoes I had ever owned and she ditched them just because the sides were ripped out. Man. Stacy and Clinton are terrifying, merciless and also pretty funny. Some of the stuff they make people throw away make you wonder...as if I have any room to talk.
After spending the summer in Florida I can safely say that while I may not dress like a fashionista (what is that anyway? Is it Spanish?) I try to make the attempt not to offend anyone with my sloppiness. For instance, I reserve my holey clothes for wearing at home, unless it's just a small hole under the arm or something. If I had a garden, these shirts would be "garden shirts". This is a term my sister's and I had to come up with due to an incredibly ugly shirt our Mom passed off to Val and told her if it was too ugly she should wear it in the garden. I guess that was good advice except for the part where her plants all died due to the ugliness of that shirt.
Anyway, this is what I learned about fashion while we were in Florida based upon what I observed.
It was Star Wars weekend at Disney's Hollywood Studios, formerly known as MGM Studios and it was hot. While we were there we saw kids and adults dressed like various Star Wars characters. Jedi's were running around with those brown robes on, I saw a few Darth Vaders dressed completely in black, some people had masks on. Really? Did I mention it was hot? It was over 100 degrees with the humidity that day. All I can say is that George Lucas would have been paying me to wear that stuff in that type of heat. Crazy.
If it's really, really hot (as opposed to just really hot) and you need to go to the public swimming pool to cool off, it is perfectly fine to wear a pair of white capris so skintight that you can see your mottled skin through them. The mottling occurs because the pants should be at least two sizes too small, thus ensuring they will cut off the blood supply to your lower limbs. This fashion statement is acceptable for those who are 300 lbs or more. It would be considerate to make sure you stay away from the kiddie section so as not to frighten small children thereby causing them to drown and avoiding all the hoopla associated with that type of scenario, although it is not a requirement. I would mention that apparently it's fine to wear this with nothing on underneath except for I was trying to keep this blog so that the kids could read it if they wanted to. If you wear this to the pool, and people shout "Eeewwww" when you walk by, you might deserve it.
Since we were at Disney for awhile, there is always someone who thinks wearing black socks with Tevas, Birkenstock or Crocs is a good idea. I saw women and men doing this so apparently these types of shoes are gender neutral like they tried to make neckties a few years ago. Remember that stupidity? Just so we are clear on this, I'm not wearing a tie any sooner than I'm going to wear a dress. If men don't want to wear a tie, why would I want to? Similarly, if I'm not going to wear a dress, why would a man want to? Oops. Anyway, it's possible that I don't understand the point of these types of shoes. Personally, I wear my Birks because my feet hate to be confined in shoes and socks and if I wore a pair of flip flops I would probably get a cramp in my foot. That's another reason why I would be voted off the "What Not to Wear" island. Stacy and Clinton hate Birks don't they?
Apparently, anything goes as a swimsuit at a waterpark and that's all I'm going to say since this is supposed to be a rated G blog. At one point , I thought my eyes were going to fall out of my head when I saw some of the things people thought were acceptable to wear. And in all sizes. I mean ALL sizes. Let's put it this way, WalMart sells underwear with more coverage than some of the swimwear I saw at Blizzard Beach and Typhoon Lagoon. In fact Mike and I laughed at one suit we saw when I stated, "I want to see her go down Summit Plummet with that on." Or not. Thanks anyway.
Flip flops of all types are acceptable forms of fashion. Just ask my kids. Also, I have no room to talk since Birkenstocks really aren't that much different except for I could buy a lot more pairs of flips at WalMart for what I pay for my Birks and they generally don't make a racket when I walk in them. However, I was really surprised by the guy who was wearing flip flops with, are you sitting down? Get ready. Big reveal coming up here. Toe socks. I am not lying. I am also not lying when I say that for all of my own fashion faults, when I saw that, I did a full out laugh. The good thing about it was that someone clueless enough to wear something like that, is usually clueless enough not to think someone laughing to the point of tears is not laughing at them because what could they be doing that is so funny?
Here are a few of my own fashion rules:
1. Please look in the mirror before you leave the house and make sure what you are wearing is the right size. If it isn't people are likely to make comments such as "Nice outfit. Did they have it in your size?" Once I saw someone wearing a yellow leather skirt. These were my comments:
a. I had no idea cows came in yellow.
b. How many cows had to die to make that skirt? (it was a big, yellow leather skirt)
c. Nice skirt. I guess they didn't have it in her size.
d. Yellow? Leather? Should these two things go together?
2. If you have to ask does this make me look too ___ (big, little, short, tall, skinny, fat, etc.) then you already know the answer.
3. Don't make your husband tell you something makes you look too fat. That's what your friends are for and he's worried if he tells you the truth, you will put poison in his food next time you fix supper.
4. Certain outfits should not be made in certain sizes.
5. The federal government should make a law banning spandex from this country, all clothing made from this material and the sweatshops churning out items made with this material.
You should feel sorry for Stacy and Clinton. From what I have observed this summer, they have a lot of work to do and they need to get cracking. I'm probably the least of their worries.
Stuff that looks good on other people or on the mannequin usually makes me look like I'm trying to be 23 again instead of 42. I know basic things such as white goes with everything and for the most part, so does black, unless of course it's brown, then it doesn't work. Who made up that rule? Stacy and Clinton? It sounds suspiciously like the "'i' bfore 'e' except after 'c' rule in spelling which I happen to have a much better grasp of than fashion. Because I knew the "white with everything" rule, for awhile I had a lot of white shirts, a few different colors for shorts and maybe a pair of white dress pants.
Then someone had to go and start the khaki bandwagon. What? What am I supposed to wear with that? Red? Blue? Black? White, perhaps? Was khaki supposed to be the new white similar to brown as the new black that I heard awhile ago? I looked in the crayon box, white is not khaki and brown is not black. They are all separate crayons. Check it out for yourself. The back to school supplies are in stock at your local WalMart by now. It took me awhile to be able to say "khaki" without laughing let alone trying to find something to wear with it. The word khaki sounds like something an infant would do that would require a lot of baby wipes to clean up. Anyway, I also know you aren't supposed to wear white before Memorial Day so I had a real problem from about Labor Day through May. Sometimes I pushed the limits and wore my white into October. I figured if we could still see the sun in NW Ohio, I could still wear white.
The real dilemma was what to wear in the winter. I guess once upon a time someone happened to be wearing white and was standing out by their mailbox and got run over by a snowplow. This prompted the Department of Transportation to mandate a new law disallowing the wearing of white in the winter. Of course that prompted the fashion gurus to come up with a new color called "winter white" which everyone knows is really "off white" or "eggshell" or "bone" which is what my Dad paints all of his walls with because it goes with everything. Good thing I knew this so I could stock up on winter white fashion. I also had a small amount of black for safety measures. You never know when there might be a blizzard and you have to go to your mailbox since everyone knows the post office delivers mail in all types of weather except for possibly hurricanes. The only rule I know of in this situation is you should be careful about wearing black and white together because it looks a little bit like you just got released from jail.
I usually look like I've either just stepped out of the barn for a few minutes or else I look like a general slop. Sometimes, I manage to pull off both looks at the same time, which I personally refer to as "multiple fashion errors". When I go to the store, I look at "nice" clothes but then somehow I always end up with another blue t-shirt instead of a dress. For the record, I haven't worn a dress since Mike and I got married. As for him, he wore a long sleeved blue t-shirt. And jeans. We might have promised to love, honor, cherish and make sure the other one doesn't look too sloppy when we go out for dinner but I can't remember that part for sure without getting out the video.
Do you see the problem here? It isn't as if we don't know better. It's just that we usually think we can get another year or two out of our clothes since it's the kids who are growing out of theirs faster than I can spell Hollister, Abercombie or run a google search to see if I spelled those correctly and to figure out what happened to Fitch. The problem with getting another year or two out of clothes is that if you do it too many times pretty soon people are pointing and laughing at your rainbow shirt and Jordache jeans from the 80's. Now that was some real fashion, but only if you had the jeans with the embellishment on the pockets. Plain pockets were nerdy.
A few years ago I was scrolling through the TV lineup when I ran across the show "What Not to Wear". Well, clearly I have a problem so I thought I'd watch and pick up a tip or two. After watching this show, I can safely say that if I'm wearing it, Stacy and Clinton would be yelling at me to throw it away if I was on that show. That would probably hurt my feelings similar to when Mom threw out my old Nike hightops. What was she thinking? Those were the most comfortable pair of shoes I had ever owned and she ditched them just because the sides were ripped out. Man. Stacy and Clinton are terrifying, merciless and also pretty funny. Some of the stuff they make people throw away make you wonder...as if I have any room to talk.
After spending the summer in Florida I can safely say that while I may not dress like a fashionista (what is that anyway? Is it Spanish?) I try to make the attempt not to offend anyone with my sloppiness. For instance, I reserve my holey clothes for wearing at home, unless it's just a small hole under the arm or something. If I had a garden, these shirts would be "garden shirts". This is a term my sister's and I had to come up with due to an incredibly ugly shirt our Mom passed off to Val and told her if it was too ugly she should wear it in the garden. I guess that was good advice except for the part where her plants all died due to the ugliness of that shirt.
Anyway, this is what I learned about fashion while we were in Florida based upon what I observed.
It was Star Wars weekend at Disney's Hollywood Studios, formerly known as MGM Studios and it was hot. While we were there we saw kids and adults dressed like various Star Wars characters. Jedi's were running around with those brown robes on, I saw a few Darth Vaders dressed completely in black, some people had masks on. Really? Did I mention it was hot? It was over 100 degrees with the humidity that day. All I can say is that George Lucas would have been paying me to wear that stuff in that type of heat. Crazy.
If it's really, really hot (as opposed to just really hot) and you need to go to the public swimming pool to cool off, it is perfectly fine to wear a pair of white capris so skintight that you can see your mottled skin through them. The mottling occurs because the pants should be at least two sizes too small, thus ensuring they will cut off the blood supply to your lower limbs. This fashion statement is acceptable for those who are 300 lbs or more. It would be considerate to make sure you stay away from the kiddie section so as not to frighten small children thereby causing them to drown and avoiding all the hoopla associated with that type of scenario, although it is not a requirement. I would mention that apparently it's fine to wear this with nothing on underneath except for I was trying to keep this blog so that the kids could read it if they wanted to. If you wear this to the pool, and people shout "Eeewwww" when you walk by, you might deserve it.
Since we were at Disney for awhile, there is always someone who thinks wearing black socks with Tevas, Birkenstock or Crocs is a good idea. I saw women and men doing this so apparently these types of shoes are gender neutral like they tried to make neckties a few years ago. Remember that stupidity? Just so we are clear on this, I'm not wearing a tie any sooner than I'm going to wear a dress. If men don't want to wear a tie, why would I want to? Similarly, if I'm not going to wear a dress, why would a man want to? Oops. Anyway, it's possible that I don't understand the point of these types of shoes. Personally, I wear my Birks because my feet hate to be confined in shoes and socks and if I wore a pair of flip flops I would probably get a cramp in my foot. That's another reason why I would be voted off the "What Not to Wear" island. Stacy and Clinton hate Birks don't they?
Apparently, anything goes as a swimsuit at a waterpark and that's all I'm going to say since this is supposed to be a rated G blog. At one point , I thought my eyes were going to fall out of my head when I saw some of the things people thought were acceptable to wear. And in all sizes. I mean ALL sizes. Let's put it this way, WalMart sells underwear with more coverage than some of the swimwear I saw at Blizzard Beach and Typhoon Lagoon. In fact Mike and I laughed at one suit we saw when I stated, "I want to see her go down Summit Plummet with that on." Or not. Thanks anyway.
Flip flops of all types are acceptable forms of fashion. Just ask my kids. Also, I have no room to talk since Birkenstocks really aren't that much different except for I could buy a lot more pairs of flips at WalMart for what I pay for my Birks and they generally don't make a racket when I walk in them. However, I was really surprised by the guy who was wearing flip flops with, are you sitting down? Get ready. Big reveal coming up here. Toe socks. I am not lying. I am also not lying when I say that for all of my own fashion faults, when I saw that, I did a full out laugh. The good thing about it was that someone clueless enough to wear something like that, is usually clueless enough not to think someone laughing to the point of tears is not laughing at them because what could they be doing that is so funny?
Here are a few of my own fashion rules:
1. Please look in the mirror before you leave the house and make sure what you are wearing is the right size. If it isn't people are likely to make comments such as "Nice outfit. Did they have it in your size?" Once I saw someone wearing a yellow leather skirt. These were my comments:
a. I had no idea cows came in yellow.
b. How many cows had to die to make that skirt? (it was a big, yellow leather skirt)
c. Nice skirt. I guess they didn't have it in her size.
d. Yellow? Leather? Should these two things go together?
2. If you have to ask does this make me look too ___ (big, little, short, tall, skinny, fat, etc.) then you already know the answer.
3. Don't make your husband tell you something makes you look too fat. That's what your friends are for and he's worried if he tells you the truth, you will put poison in his food next time you fix supper.
4. Certain outfits should not be made in certain sizes.
5. The federal government should make a law banning spandex from this country, all clothing made from this material and the sweatshops churning out items made with this material.
You should feel sorry for Stacy and Clinton. From what I have observed this summer, they have a lot of work to do and they need to get cracking. I'm probably the least of their worries.
Stand up
I'm a little bored with writing about the drive to Florida (because I can't remember that long ago) so I thought I'd post a copy of the stand up routine I did for the retreat we had in May (which was longer ago than the Florida trip so not writing about the trip because it was so long ago really makes no sense whatsoever).
Ahem...
That whole thing got started in a really weird way. I called and left a message on someone's answering machine stating that Mom would be able to keep the kids so I was planning on attending to do my stand up routine ("Ha ha ha, hardy har har and all that I'll see you Sunday."). The whole thing was supposed to be a joke. I might have mentioned something about olives too but this was way back at the end of April so I can't be sure about that part. Ask Phyllis.
The day after I left this silly message, there was a meeting about the retreat. We went over the schedule, who was doing what, when, who was bringing what, when, who needed a ride, etc. In the schedule there was a ten minute "surprise". I thought that was funny until I got busted on the way out to the car. Guess who the surprise was? That made me laugh for some reason.
When I got home, I told Mike that I was supposed to do a comedy act and that he couldn't tell anyone because it was supposed to be a surprise. He laughed. I mean full out laughing, red face, tears, everything. Why am I so darn funny to my husband? I hadn't even said anything, just that I was scared I might not be funny. For all I knew they were setting me up just so they could warm up their pitching arms for the upcoming softball season.
Actually, what I said was, "You're just laughing because you can't go to the women's retreat and you are worried about what I might say about you." Then he laughed harder! What?
Here's the transcript. I should have done this awhile ago because I digressed from my written script quite a bit and it was so long ago, I don't remember exactly how it really went. Thankfully, there isn't any video evidence of this on youtube as far as I know. Also, I committed two errors of public speaking 1) I lost my composure which later was pretty funny to me and 2) I jammed my hands into my pockets. At least I didn't have any loose change to rattle around. Oh. I also didn't walk around quite enough to keep people's attention. A good speaker knows not to stand still in front of the podium. I did this because "good speaker" are the operative words in that sentence and I do not resemble a good speaker by any stretch of the imagination. If you were at the retreat, you will recognize that the statement "I am not a public speaker" has to be the understatement of the year.
The theme of the retreat was "Overcoming Obstacles" so I presented a slightly different way of looking at situations that we sometimes view as obstacles.
Without further adieu (am I French all of the sudden?):
"The last time I stood in front of a group of people to speak, I was doing a demonstration speech at the University of Toledo on the esoteric and ever important topic of how to oil the valves of my trumpet. I am fairly certain I saw various people fall asleep when I announced what I was doing. At the very least, some of their eyes glazed over until I had the valves back in my horn and proceeded to blast out a perfectly in tune B(flat), much to the dismay of the slacker sleepers in the class. At any rate, let's hope this turns out to be more exciting than that fiasco.
Did you know that the word laugh is in the Bible at least three times? Here's two: Proverbs 1:26 states that "I will laugh at your calamity." I figure if God is laughing at my calamity, then maybe I should be laughing at it too, instead of worrying about it. For example, remember that commercial from a few years ago? I think it was Doritos and the tag line was "Go ahead, we'll make more." Well, Mike called the other day to say something had gone wrong with the truck. I said, "Mike, money is like a bag of Doritos, we'll make more." Instead of getting all stressed out about even more costly repairs to the truck, he was laughing when he hung up the phone.
The second verse is Luke 6:21. It states "Blessed are you that hunger now for you shall be filled. Blessed are you that weep for now you shall laugh."
Most of you don't know me very well other than perhaps, as that crazy woman who has eight kids and sits in the front of the church. We are the Deffely family. Or, as I sometimes affectionately refer to us as "Legion", for we are many (cue the rim shot here). Hopefully, when I'm done you will have a little more insight into the strange way my mind works. I'm pretty sure that if nothing else, in the end, you will have a lot more sympathy for Mike who has been charged with the task of living with me.
I cordially invite you to accompany me on a trip through my wild and wacky world.
Oh...and further along, we'll understand it all by and by.
"The Lighter Side of Obstacles"
subtitled: "Are they really obstacles or is it just our perception?"
Sometimes our family can be an obstacle.
One of my sister's friends asked Corinne if I was as silly as Val. Corinne said, "Well, my mom and Aunt Val drive my grandma crazy." Not to be outdone, my niece said, "And grandma drives them crazy."
A quote from my nephew directed towards his little brother: "I didn't even call you a bad name like idiot. You snot."
Grandma and Grandpa had a Sunday School class party to go to so they arranged for a babysitter to come and stay with my Dad and his four siblings. The kids didn't like the babysitter and thought they were old enough to stay home without one. They wanted her to leave. My grandparents had the ashes of some dead relative stored at their house. So, my Dad got the box of ashes out, told the babysitter it was Uncle So and So and proceeded to chase the babysitter out of the house. Dad chased her all around their yard while she screamed hysterically, until she finally just ran home. Surprisingly, she never babysat for my Dad, aunts and uncle again. I can only assume it was the last time grandma and grandpa got to go anywhere without their kids for a very long time.
Sometimes there are physical obstacles
My nephew went to the doctor for his physical. After getting one of his booster shots he said, "That shot didn't hurt at all. Last time I got a shot it felt like they were poking me with a needle."
My five year old nephew told his brother that he would be needing a chicken pox vaccine when he went to the doctor the next time. He reasoned that this was necessary because they had been playing with the chickens a lot.
I was talking to my friend about some silly things when I stated that most people think I'm younger than I really am. I also told her that I've never had the guts to ask someone if they think that because of how I look or if it's because of the way I act.
I got a really good "2 for" deal the other day. The nice lady at JCPenney gave me two eyebrows where once there was only one.
Bethany told my sister, "Once I ate seven bowls of cereal. The next day my tummy was so flat, I ate eleven bowls."
Sometimes our political views can be an obstacle
Bethany and I were having a conversation about the upcoming election last Fall. She said, "If I were 30 I would vote for McCain." I asked her who she would vote for if she were 18 and she promptly told me, "I would still vote for McCain even if I were 18 or 30 or even if I were GRANDMA'S age!"
My seven year old nephew said to his brother, "You want Obama or that other guy to win?" To which his five year old brother responded, "Who? Joe the Plumber?"
Sometimes our finances can be an obstacle
I received this email a couple of weeks ago:
Letter to the Bank
Dear Sirs:
One of my checks was marked insufficient funds. In view of the current events in the banking industry, does that refer to me or you?
Sometime we just don't know what the obstacle is.
I overheard a conversation at my Dad's office last week in which two people were talking about their fingernails. One of them said her nails were not balanced. She said, "Just look at them! I just had them done and they look awful. I had another tech look at them and she said the balance would have to be completely redone." As I was typing my report, I glanced down at my own fingernails and realized they had never been balanced to my knowledge and not only that, but I had no idea what "balanced fingernails" even meant. I wondered if I should be concerned about this fact. Should I worry about my nails balanced or otherwise? This was quickly followed by this thought: "I do too know what having balanced nails means. It means that I have carefully and painstakingly chewed them all off to a uniform length." Problem solved.
At the Toledo Zoo there are two vultures whom Bethany loves. She likes to stop and watch them for a long time when we visit the zoo. One day we were there while they were eating. Most people hurried on their way when they figured out it was lunchtime for the vultures. Everyone, except us. One of the vultures was strutting around when Bethany piped up with, "You big, beautiful bird! Your beak is such a pretty blue color." Apparently, Bethany did not notice the rabbit entrails hanging out of either side of the vulture's beautiful, blue beak.
Sometimes our speech or what we read can be an obstacle.
A couple of summers ago, we travelled to Gatlinburg, TN. The area around Jellico has some very steep mountains and we talked about them while we were driving through the area. A couple of weeks later, we were listening to one of the kid's CDs in the van and I heard Bethany singing about Joshua and the Battle of Jellico.
Bethany told my mom that Christ aroast on Easter Sunday.
Last week we were listening to one of the kid's CDs in the van on the way home from church. I heard Bethany singing and I said, "You know that's Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, right?" I heard her quietly say, "I don't care if it is Jericho. I already know that. I'm going to sing Jerica because I like that word better."
I was online looking for some new sandals the other day when I ran across a description that read, "When you put these gladiator sandals on, they will make you feel Roman." I really wondered about that. If you buy them, do they make you want to beat people or what?
In keeping with the sandal theme: Are the words "strappy sandals" an oxymoron? Aren't sandals, by definition, strappy?
My sister sent me a small advertisement awhile back. It read, "Fresh items are not available in all stores." What? I gotta tell you that I hope I'm shopping in the store where the fresh stuff is.
Did you hear about the one-armed man who applauded the kindness of strangers?
How about the guy who went into the sheriff's department to find out how to legally kill someone?
This is pretty funny too: The police found an open door in the back of an old warehouse. An officer went inside and called out "Marco". They found the suspect they were looking for when he responded "Polo".
Pierre
Once upon a time our parents took my sisters and I to Washington D.C. in a 12 passenger van. It had a unit that slid into the back after the seats were removed from the van. The unit had U-shaped seating with a table in the middle which could be removed and made into a bed. Mom and Dad were up front and my sisters and I were in the back of the van. Soon enough, cars were passing Dad with drivers honking their horns and waving. Other drivers were passing him and giving him funny looks which must have prompted him to ask us what we were doing. Our response was to innocently shrug our shoulders and say, "Nothing. Just sitting here." What Dad didn't know was this: On the bottom of my sister's foot, we had drawn Pierre. Pierre was a nice little character with a cute little nose, eyes, mouth and five strands of hair, I mean toes. The cup holder from the seating unit was Pierre's top hat. When cars drove past us, my sister would lay down so only Pierre was visible in the window. He had a notebook with a variety of instructions for other drivers on the Pennsylvania Pike such as: "Honk! If you are bored, tired, having fun, going to Hershey Park, going to Gettysburg, D.C., etc." Pierre also had other communications such as, "Wave if you are driving a blue car, red car, truck, etc." Some people seemed to have trouble with this one because we would hold up the blue sign and the driver of a red car would honk which of course would send us into peals of laughter "Dingbat! Don't you know what color your car is? Your car is blue! We said honk if your car is red!" Sometimes Pierre was bored on this long trip. That's when he got out the sign that read, "HELP! I AM BEING HELD HOSTAGE!" or "HELP! I AM BEING KIDNAPPED!" I guess those must have been the signs we were holding up when Dad was getting the weird looks from the other drivers. Needless to say, I wouldn't recommend trying that stunt in today's society.
I'll leave you with a couple of final thoughts:
My Grandma always told us, "Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep and you weep alone." My Uncle Bob always said, "Small minds amuse easily." So which is it? For most of my life I've tried to figure out if I should be walking around laughing instead of weeping alone or if I do, am I admitting that I have a small mind? I'm sure the answer to that question is apparent to most of you by now.
The final "laugh" scripture is Ecclesiastes 3:4. It says, "A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance." Hopefully, I haven't made anyone cry today and I bet you're really hoping that next year no one asks me to dance.
I hope you have enjoyed this time of looking at the obstacles we encounter, in a little bit different and slightly warped light.
Ahem...
That whole thing got started in a really weird way. I called and left a message on someone's answering machine stating that Mom would be able to keep the kids so I was planning on attending to do my stand up routine ("Ha ha ha, hardy har har and all that I'll see you Sunday."). The whole thing was supposed to be a joke. I might have mentioned something about olives too but this was way back at the end of April so I can't be sure about that part. Ask Phyllis.
The day after I left this silly message, there was a meeting about the retreat. We went over the schedule, who was doing what, when, who was bringing what, when, who needed a ride, etc. In the schedule there was a ten minute "surprise". I thought that was funny until I got busted on the way out to the car. Guess who the surprise was? That made me laugh for some reason.
When I got home, I told Mike that I was supposed to do a comedy act and that he couldn't tell anyone because it was supposed to be a surprise. He laughed. I mean full out laughing, red face, tears, everything. Why am I so darn funny to my husband? I hadn't even said anything, just that I was scared I might not be funny. For all I knew they were setting me up just so they could warm up their pitching arms for the upcoming softball season.
Actually, what I said was, "You're just laughing because you can't go to the women's retreat and you are worried about what I might say about you." Then he laughed harder! What?
Here's the transcript. I should have done this awhile ago because I digressed from my written script quite a bit and it was so long ago, I don't remember exactly how it really went. Thankfully, there isn't any video evidence of this on youtube as far as I know. Also, I committed two errors of public speaking 1) I lost my composure which later was pretty funny to me and 2) I jammed my hands into my pockets. At least I didn't have any loose change to rattle around. Oh. I also didn't walk around quite enough to keep people's attention. A good speaker knows not to stand still in front of the podium. I did this because "good speaker" are the operative words in that sentence and I do not resemble a good speaker by any stretch of the imagination. If you were at the retreat, you will recognize that the statement "I am not a public speaker" has to be the understatement of the year.
The theme of the retreat was "Overcoming Obstacles" so I presented a slightly different way of looking at situations that we sometimes view as obstacles.
Without further adieu (am I French all of the sudden?):
"The last time I stood in front of a group of people to speak, I was doing a demonstration speech at the University of Toledo on the esoteric and ever important topic of how to oil the valves of my trumpet. I am fairly certain I saw various people fall asleep when I announced what I was doing. At the very least, some of their eyes glazed over until I had the valves back in my horn and proceeded to blast out a perfectly in tune B(flat), much to the dismay of the slacker sleepers in the class. At any rate, let's hope this turns out to be more exciting than that fiasco.
Did you know that the word laugh is in the Bible at least three times? Here's two: Proverbs 1:26 states that "I will laugh at your calamity." I figure if God is laughing at my calamity, then maybe I should be laughing at it too, instead of worrying about it. For example, remember that commercial from a few years ago? I think it was Doritos and the tag line was "Go ahead, we'll make more." Well, Mike called the other day to say something had gone wrong with the truck. I said, "Mike, money is like a bag of Doritos, we'll make more." Instead of getting all stressed out about even more costly repairs to the truck, he was laughing when he hung up the phone.
The second verse is Luke 6:21. It states "Blessed are you that hunger now for you shall be filled. Blessed are you that weep for now you shall laugh."
Most of you don't know me very well other than perhaps, as that crazy woman who has eight kids and sits in the front of the church. We are the Deffely family. Or, as I sometimes affectionately refer to us as "Legion", for we are many (cue the rim shot here). Hopefully, when I'm done you will have a little more insight into the strange way my mind works. I'm pretty sure that if nothing else, in the end, you will have a lot more sympathy for Mike who has been charged with the task of living with me.
I cordially invite you to accompany me on a trip through my wild and wacky world.
Oh...and further along, we'll understand it all by and by.
"The Lighter Side of Obstacles"
subtitled: "Are they really obstacles or is it just our perception?"
Sometimes our family can be an obstacle.
One of my sister's friends asked Corinne if I was as silly as Val. Corinne said, "Well, my mom and Aunt Val drive my grandma crazy." Not to be outdone, my niece said, "And grandma drives them crazy."
A quote from my nephew directed towards his little brother: "I didn't even call you a bad name like idiot. You snot."
Grandma and Grandpa had a Sunday School class party to go to so they arranged for a babysitter to come and stay with my Dad and his four siblings. The kids didn't like the babysitter and thought they were old enough to stay home without one. They wanted her to leave. My grandparents had the ashes of some dead relative stored at their house. So, my Dad got the box of ashes out, told the babysitter it was Uncle So and So and proceeded to chase the babysitter out of the house. Dad chased her all around their yard while she screamed hysterically, until she finally just ran home. Surprisingly, she never babysat for my Dad, aunts and uncle again. I can only assume it was the last time grandma and grandpa got to go anywhere without their kids for a very long time.
Sometimes there are physical obstacles
My nephew went to the doctor for his physical. After getting one of his booster shots he said, "That shot didn't hurt at all. Last time I got a shot it felt like they were poking me with a needle."
My five year old nephew told his brother that he would be needing a chicken pox vaccine when he went to the doctor the next time. He reasoned that this was necessary because they had been playing with the chickens a lot.
I was talking to my friend about some silly things when I stated that most people think I'm younger than I really am. I also told her that I've never had the guts to ask someone if they think that because of how I look or if it's because of the way I act.
I got a really good "2 for" deal the other day. The nice lady at JCPenney gave me two eyebrows where once there was only one.
Bethany told my sister, "Once I ate seven bowls of cereal. The next day my tummy was so flat, I ate eleven bowls."
Sometimes our political views can be an obstacle
Bethany and I were having a conversation about the upcoming election last Fall. She said, "If I were 30 I would vote for McCain." I asked her who she would vote for if she were 18 and she promptly told me, "I would still vote for McCain even if I were 18 or 30 or even if I were GRANDMA'S age!"
My seven year old nephew said to his brother, "You want Obama or that other guy to win?" To which his five year old brother responded, "Who? Joe the Plumber?"
Sometimes our finances can be an obstacle
I received this email a couple of weeks ago:
Letter to the Bank
Dear Sirs:
One of my checks was marked insufficient funds. In view of the current events in the banking industry, does that refer to me or you?
Sometime we just don't know what the obstacle is.
I overheard a conversation at my Dad's office last week in which two people were talking about their fingernails. One of them said her nails were not balanced. She said, "Just look at them! I just had them done and they look awful. I had another tech look at them and she said the balance would have to be completely redone." As I was typing my report, I glanced down at my own fingernails and realized they had never been balanced to my knowledge and not only that, but I had no idea what "balanced fingernails" even meant. I wondered if I should be concerned about this fact. Should I worry about my nails balanced or otherwise? This was quickly followed by this thought: "I do too know what having balanced nails means. It means that I have carefully and painstakingly chewed them all off to a uniform length." Problem solved.
At the Toledo Zoo there are two vultures whom Bethany loves. She likes to stop and watch them for a long time when we visit the zoo. One day we were there while they were eating. Most people hurried on their way when they figured out it was lunchtime for the vultures. Everyone, except us. One of the vultures was strutting around when Bethany piped up with, "You big, beautiful bird! Your beak is such a pretty blue color." Apparently, Bethany did not notice the rabbit entrails hanging out of either side of the vulture's beautiful, blue beak.
Sometimes our speech or what we read can be an obstacle.
A couple of summers ago, we travelled to Gatlinburg, TN. The area around Jellico has some very steep mountains and we talked about them while we were driving through the area. A couple of weeks later, we were listening to one of the kid's CDs in the van and I heard Bethany singing about Joshua and the Battle of Jellico.
Bethany told my mom that Christ aroast on Easter Sunday.
Last week we were listening to one of the kid's CDs in the van on the way home from church. I heard Bethany singing and I said, "You know that's Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, right?" I heard her quietly say, "I don't care if it is Jericho. I already know that. I'm going to sing Jerica because I like that word better."
I was online looking for some new sandals the other day when I ran across a description that read, "When you put these gladiator sandals on, they will make you feel Roman." I really wondered about that. If you buy them, do they make you want to beat people or what?
In keeping with the sandal theme: Are the words "strappy sandals" an oxymoron? Aren't sandals, by definition, strappy?
My sister sent me a small advertisement awhile back. It read, "Fresh items are not available in all stores." What? I gotta tell you that I hope I'm shopping in the store where the fresh stuff is.
Did you hear about the one-armed man who applauded the kindness of strangers?
How about the guy who went into the sheriff's department to find out how to legally kill someone?
This is pretty funny too: The police found an open door in the back of an old warehouse. An officer went inside and called out "Marco". They found the suspect they were looking for when he responded "Polo".
Pierre
Once upon a time our parents took my sisters and I to Washington D.C. in a 12 passenger van. It had a unit that slid into the back after the seats were removed from the van. The unit had U-shaped seating with a table in the middle which could be removed and made into a bed. Mom and Dad were up front and my sisters and I were in the back of the van. Soon enough, cars were passing Dad with drivers honking their horns and waving. Other drivers were passing him and giving him funny looks which must have prompted him to ask us what we were doing. Our response was to innocently shrug our shoulders and say, "Nothing. Just sitting here." What Dad didn't know was this: On the bottom of my sister's foot, we had drawn Pierre. Pierre was a nice little character with a cute little nose, eyes, mouth and five strands of hair, I mean toes. The cup holder from the seating unit was Pierre's top hat. When cars drove past us, my sister would lay down so only Pierre was visible in the window. He had a notebook with a variety of instructions for other drivers on the Pennsylvania Pike such as: "Honk! If you are bored, tired, having fun, going to Hershey Park, going to Gettysburg, D.C., etc." Pierre also had other communications such as, "Wave if you are driving a blue car, red car, truck, etc." Some people seemed to have trouble with this one because we would hold up the blue sign and the driver of a red car would honk which of course would send us into peals of laughter "Dingbat! Don't you know what color your car is? Your car is blue! We said honk if your car is red!" Sometimes Pierre was bored on this long trip. That's when he got out the sign that read, "HELP! I AM BEING HELD HOSTAGE!" or "HELP! I AM BEING KIDNAPPED!" I guess those must have been the signs we were holding up when Dad was getting the weird looks from the other drivers. Needless to say, I wouldn't recommend trying that stunt in today's society.
I'll leave you with a couple of final thoughts:
My Grandma always told us, "Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep and you weep alone." My Uncle Bob always said, "Small minds amuse easily." So which is it? For most of my life I've tried to figure out if I should be walking around laughing instead of weeping alone or if I do, am I admitting that I have a small mind? I'm sure the answer to that question is apparent to most of you by now.
The final "laugh" scripture is Ecclesiastes 3:4. It says, "A time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance." Hopefully, I haven't made anyone cry today and I bet you're really hoping that next year no one asks me to dance.
I hope you have enjoyed this time of looking at the obstacles we encounter, in a little bit different and slightly warped light.
Monday, June 8, 2009
N. Baltimore, Southern Ohio and Sailing into Kentucky
I barrelled past North Baltimore and yelled "Hi Uncle Harold and Aunt Sherry!" I'm pretty sure they heard me. Or not. Since most normal humans were in bed at that hour. Whatever that hour was.
Yawns #179 - #232 occurred between N. Baltimore and Lima. Is this the most boring drive ever? With Lima through Dayton and perhaps southern Georgia and north Florida giving this area a run for it's money? I've heard driving through Nebraska can get pretty bad but I always thought the possibility of smacking into a moose or something like that would make it a little more exciting.
That's when it occurred to me I should probably be watching out for deer. For some reason, deer seem to be attracted to our vehicles when I am driving them. A few years ago while driving into a small town in NW Ohio, about 300 yards or so from a Speedway, a deer came tearing across the highway and straight into the side of my van. Really? What was it doing there in the first place? Ordering a Big Mac? Getting a capuccino? Using it's Speedy Rewards card? No one was hurt, the deer wandered off probably to die and my van was smacked up pretty good.
Two years later, when we were coming home from church, the first deer's cousin plowed into the same side of the van and went skidding down the road. I didn't like that one too much because I felt like it was looking at me while it was dying, sort of accusing me of getting in the way of it skedaddling across the road with the rest of the herd. To my credit, I missed the other seven who managed to make a safe passage in front of and behind our van.
Some people at church called me The Deerslayer for awhile after that one. I thought i was funny, but James Fennimore Cooper would probably have been appalled.
I didn't want to slay any deer with our Dodge Caravan since I was pretty sure it would not fare nearly as well as the full size van did when it was deer hunting out of season. So, I started paying better attention. Thankfully, I did not see any.
I continued to yawn and wonder how in the world I was going to make it all the way to Florida on four hours of sleep.
Break out some more Dr. Pepper and the CD the church recorded last summer, please. I had to stay awake and this was a good way to do it! Those two CDs are awesome!
The sun started coming up and since I don't usually see sunrises, it was pretty neat to see one. I also thought that perhaps once in awhile I should get up in order to witness a sunrise. I thought about how neat it is that God made the earth this way. He could have just said, "Lights out" and made it dark at maybe 10:15pm and then said, "Lights on" and turned the sun back on at maybe 10:15am (if you read "The Trip Commences" you will understand the significance of 10:15). Instead He said, "Hey pay attention here. I'm painting the sky for you." He does that at the change of seasons too so we will slow down and consider what really matters. And in some weird way, a sunrise is sort of like me smacking the snooze button on the alarm clock. Isn't it a slow awakening to the day?
I passed the area where the trailer tire blew out on the way to State Dock last year. Carl handled that one with calm and coolness because blowing a tire in the middle of a construction zone is kind of scary stuff. When he managed to pull over and we were all sitting on the side of the road, I snapped the series of pictures I like to refer to as "How many members of the Church of Christ does it take to change a trailer tire?" According to the pictures, it takes around 15 or so. Every time I look at them, I crack up laughing. The scene looks quite a lot like a road crew with a lot of standing around talking and watching two, or possibly three, people do the actual work. No offense intended here, since we are all members of one body, I'm sure each person was doing the part they were designed to do. From the air conditioned van, it looked funny. Then again, I already stated we had never been out of our small town before.
Of course, that reminded me of the fact that when we attempted to pull into traffic, our van quit running. I was able to start it again, but quickly realized that "Mike, we have a problem." Yep. Big problem. Lost the fuel pump. So, several hours later and $900 poorer, we all got back into our respective vehicles and caravaned the rest of the way to our overnight destination, anticipating commencing the loading of the houseboats and the bon voyage the next day. That trip was awesome with capital letters! We still talk about it a lot almost a year later!
I turned the radio down to a more tolerable level and tried to sneak past the area just in case the Caravan decided to take a cue from the Savanna and mess up the plans just for fun. I didn't need to replace another fuel pump and remember I was already at least eight hours behind schedule.
Reminiscing about the boat trip had me thinking about all of the people in Adrian and how they have each touched our lives in so many ways. We are so blessed to have so many good people in our lives. I am sure we have not reciprocated even in the slightest compared to what we have received from our brothers and sisters in Adrian. I got a little misty eyed thinking about being gone for so long. Seriously. But then, I remembered when Elizabeth moved to Alabama, I wrote her a letter to read on the way and one of the things I said was that I was sure we would be neighbors in Heaven. I said this so she would laugh and perhaps think that Alabama might not be too bad if you think about the alternative of living next to us. Anyway, I'm not sure how it's all going to work out but I want to live on the block where the Adrian brothers/sisters and the other people who have been instrumental and influential in our spiritual lives are all going to be. Our mansion will be the one with the gold that needs to be polished and toys scattered about the yard in case anyone wants to look us up when they get to Heaven. Oh. Our halos will probably be slightly tarnished and askew too. That is, if we can find them. Anyway, this made me laugh while I sailed through Cincy.
Wow! I was almost all the way to Kentucky just by thinking about the boat trip and our relatives in Adrian! At some point, it occurred to me that I passed that giant Jesus statue at Solid Rock Church between Dayton and Cincy. I won't say what our kids call it but I sort of wonder what they were thinking with that thing. I heard recently that it was originally supposed to be an entire statue, not just the torso and head but the ground was too unstable to put the entire thing up so they opted for the "coming out of the water" rendition of it. Kind of weird. But don't ask me because I do not understand modern "art". Just because something is sitting in front of the art museum they call it a sculpture. If it was at the dump, it would be scrap metal. That's all I know. I also know that I probably shouldn't have laughed when I read a blog stating that the locals in the area thought it would be funny if they put the legs on the other side of 75 and that other people drive by it and say, "Touchdown! Jesus scores one for the team!" These things are probably deserving of a bolt of lightning through the roof or at least a slight shock when I turn the lights off.
It wasn't too bad getting through morning rush hour traffic in Cincy, but I was a little disgusted with myself for not leaving earlier or later in order to completely avoid the delight of it all. I had to sit still for maybe ten minutes or so and logged at least another 47 yawns, putting the count somewhere in the neighborhood of 1k for the trip so far. Maybe I exaggerate a little bit sometimes.
Finally, I crossed the Ohio River and thank you Kentucky for having a 70 mph speed limit! I sped my way down the highway with the cruise set at 72 when I realized I was hungry. Really hungry. Stomach growlingly hungry. Unfortunately, the gas gage was no where near needing to be filled and I was so far behind schedule I decided to keep going. I didn't need to eat. I actually said aloud, "Eating will be a luxury on this trip." I am fairly certain that by no stretch of the imagination, can a cold cut ham sandwich or McDonald's drive through be considered a "luxury".
But I was so tired and stopping seemed like a necessity. It was at that point when I remembered that Kentucky meant there would be Blue Bunny ice cream in the rest area vending machines. Why is the Ky Welcome Center 25 miles or more from the state line? This could be disasterous if one has been stuck in Cincinnatti traffic for too long or needs an ice cream fix.
I decided I needed to stop. I told myself it was purely for the chance to ditch the empty Diet Dr. Pepper cans, take a nap and perhaps wander over to the vending machines to see about the Blue Bunny selections.
So, I stopped. Cracked my back. Watched a Kentucky chipmunk run around picking up stuff that chipmunks think are useful items. Walked to the bathroom. Pondered the wisdom of the vendor guy leaving his truck open with all those cases of soda exposed to the world while he was nowhere in sight. Cracked up when I realized he probably had enough Diet Dr. Pepper in there to keep me wired for a year or more even without my IV drip. Cracked up some more about the thought of the IV drip again (see The Trip Commences for further explanation of this) and me walking into the Welcome Center with that attached. Continued to sing whatever song was on the church CD when I shut off the van but I didn't do it as loudly as I did in the van because I didn't want to look like a complete nut. Realized it was way too late to avoid looking like a complete nut so I promptly decided I didn't care. Looked over towards the vending machines and thought about ice cream for breakfast. Hmmmm. If I got some, I wouldn't have to stop again until I needed gas. I love ice cream. I love Blue Bunny ice cream in particular because I am an ice cream snob. I will eat that stuff that comes in the ten gallon bucket if I have to but if I don't have to, then please oh please let there be Edy's or BB in the freezer section. Breyer's will do in a pinch, but only certain kinds. I guess I like my ice cream made out of the ingredients no one can pronounce.
Who eats ice cream for breakfast?
Me. That's who. At least on this trip I did. I justified it by saying I didn't really sleep long enough for it to be actual going to bed sleep so this could technically be a midnight snack even though it was closer to noon than midnight. Ice cream could be considered a dairy serving and the almonds could be considered protein. The whole eliminating an extra stop for something to eat came into play again and really who was going to know that I was eating ice cream for breakfast? This is how sin enters our lives, through justification, and boy was I on the justification bandwagon! I had about ten excuses ready for my breakfast choice just in case I ran into someone I knew at the Ky Welcome Center.
I was clear on not knowing anyone in the rest area. But there is always someone who knows or finds out what we are doing.
In this case it was Mike since I called him and told him because I was in the van laughing about eating ice cream for breakfast and because I wanted to brag about it a little bit. Small minds amuse easily. Especially when that small mind is wired on soda, sleep deprived, hasn't grown up yet and is eating ice cream at 8am.
Yawns #179 - #232 occurred between N. Baltimore and Lima. Is this the most boring drive ever? With Lima through Dayton and perhaps southern Georgia and north Florida giving this area a run for it's money? I've heard driving through Nebraska can get pretty bad but I always thought the possibility of smacking into a moose or something like that would make it a little more exciting.
That's when it occurred to me I should probably be watching out for deer. For some reason, deer seem to be attracted to our vehicles when I am driving them. A few years ago while driving into a small town in NW Ohio, about 300 yards or so from a Speedway, a deer came tearing across the highway and straight into the side of my van. Really? What was it doing there in the first place? Ordering a Big Mac? Getting a capuccino? Using it's Speedy Rewards card? No one was hurt, the deer wandered off probably to die and my van was smacked up pretty good.
Two years later, when we were coming home from church, the first deer's cousin plowed into the same side of the van and went skidding down the road. I didn't like that one too much because I felt like it was looking at me while it was dying, sort of accusing me of getting in the way of it skedaddling across the road with the rest of the herd. To my credit, I missed the other seven who managed to make a safe passage in front of and behind our van.
Some people at church called me The Deerslayer for awhile after that one. I thought i was funny, but James Fennimore Cooper would probably have been appalled.
I didn't want to slay any deer with our Dodge Caravan since I was pretty sure it would not fare nearly as well as the full size van did when it was deer hunting out of season. So, I started paying better attention. Thankfully, I did not see any.
I continued to yawn and wonder how in the world I was going to make it all the way to Florida on four hours of sleep.
Break out some more Dr. Pepper and the CD the church recorded last summer, please. I had to stay awake and this was a good way to do it! Those two CDs are awesome!
The sun started coming up and since I don't usually see sunrises, it was pretty neat to see one. I also thought that perhaps once in awhile I should get up in order to witness a sunrise. I thought about how neat it is that God made the earth this way. He could have just said, "Lights out" and made it dark at maybe 10:15pm and then said, "Lights on" and turned the sun back on at maybe 10:15am (if you read "The Trip Commences" you will understand the significance of 10:15). Instead He said, "Hey pay attention here. I'm painting the sky for you." He does that at the change of seasons too so we will slow down and consider what really matters. And in some weird way, a sunrise is sort of like me smacking the snooze button on the alarm clock. Isn't it a slow awakening to the day?
I passed the area where the trailer tire blew out on the way to State Dock last year. Carl handled that one with calm and coolness because blowing a tire in the middle of a construction zone is kind of scary stuff. When he managed to pull over and we were all sitting on the side of the road, I snapped the series of pictures I like to refer to as "How many members of the Church of Christ does it take to change a trailer tire?" According to the pictures, it takes around 15 or so. Every time I look at them, I crack up laughing. The scene looks quite a lot like a road crew with a lot of standing around talking and watching two, or possibly three, people do the actual work. No offense intended here, since we are all members of one body, I'm sure each person was doing the part they were designed to do. From the air conditioned van, it looked funny. Then again, I already stated we had never been out of our small town before.
Of course, that reminded me of the fact that when we attempted to pull into traffic, our van quit running. I was able to start it again, but quickly realized that "Mike, we have a problem." Yep. Big problem. Lost the fuel pump. So, several hours later and $900 poorer, we all got back into our respective vehicles and caravaned the rest of the way to our overnight destination, anticipating commencing the loading of the houseboats and the bon voyage the next day. That trip was awesome with capital letters! We still talk about it a lot almost a year later!
I turned the radio down to a more tolerable level and tried to sneak past the area just in case the Caravan decided to take a cue from the Savanna and mess up the plans just for fun. I didn't need to replace another fuel pump and remember I was already at least eight hours behind schedule.
Reminiscing about the boat trip had me thinking about all of the people in Adrian and how they have each touched our lives in so many ways. We are so blessed to have so many good people in our lives. I am sure we have not reciprocated even in the slightest compared to what we have received from our brothers and sisters in Adrian. I got a little misty eyed thinking about being gone for so long. Seriously. But then, I remembered when Elizabeth moved to Alabama, I wrote her a letter to read on the way and one of the things I said was that I was sure we would be neighbors in Heaven. I said this so she would laugh and perhaps think that Alabama might not be too bad if you think about the alternative of living next to us. Anyway, I'm not sure how it's all going to work out but I want to live on the block where the Adrian brothers/sisters and the other people who have been instrumental and influential in our spiritual lives are all going to be. Our mansion will be the one with the gold that needs to be polished and toys scattered about the yard in case anyone wants to look us up when they get to Heaven. Oh. Our halos will probably be slightly tarnished and askew too. That is, if we can find them. Anyway, this made me laugh while I sailed through Cincy.
Wow! I was almost all the way to Kentucky just by thinking about the boat trip and our relatives in Adrian! At some point, it occurred to me that I passed that giant Jesus statue at Solid Rock Church between Dayton and Cincy. I won't say what our kids call it but I sort of wonder what they were thinking with that thing. I heard recently that it was originally supposed to be an entire statue, not just the torso and head but the ground was too unstable to put the entire thing up so they opted for the "coming out of the water" rendition of it. Kind of weird. But don't ask me because I do not understand modern "art". Just because something is sitting in front of the art museum they call it a sculpture. If it was at the dump, it would be scrap metal. That's all I know. I also know that I probably shouldn't have laughed when I read a blog stating that the locals in the area thought it would be funny if they put the legs on the other side of 75 and that other people drive by it and say, "Touchdown! Jesus scores one for the team!" These things are probably deserving of a bolt of lightning through the roof or at least a slight shock when I turn the lights off.
It wasn't too bad getting through morning rush hour traffic in Cincy, but I was a little disgusted with myself for not leaving earlier or later in order to completely avoid the delight of it all. I had to sit still for maybe ten minutes or so and logged at least another 47 yawns, putting the count somewhere in the neighborhood of 1k for the trip so far. Maybe I exaggerate a little bit sometimes.
Finally, I crossed the Ohio River and thank you Kentucky for having a 70 mph speed limit! I sped my way down the highway with the cruise set at 72 when I realized I was hungry. Really hungry. Stomach growlingly hungry. Unfortunately, the gas gage was no where near needing to be filled and I was so far behind schedule I decided to keep going. I didn't need to eat. I actually said aloud, "Eating will be a luxury on this trip." I am fairly certain that by no stretch of the imagination, can a cold cut ham sandwich or McDonald's drive through be considered a "luxury".
But I was so tired and stopping seemed like a necessity. It was at that point when I remembered that Kentucky meant there would be Blue Bunny ice cream in the rest area vending machines. Why is the Ky Welcome Center 25 miles or more from the state line? This could be disasterous if one has been stuck in Cincinnatti traffic for too long or needs an ice cream fix.
I decided I needed to stop. I told myself it was purely for the chance to ditch the empty Diet Dr. Pepper cans, take a nap and perhaps wander over to the vending machines to see about the Blue Bunny selections.
So, I stopped. Cracked my back. Watched a Kentucky chipmunk run around picking up stuff that chipmunks think are useful items. Walked to the bathroom. Pondered the wisdom of the vendor guy leaving his truck open with all those cases of soda exposed to the world while he was nowhere in sight. Cracked up when I realized he probably had enough Diet Dr. Pepper in there to keep me wired for a year or more even without my IV drip. Cracked up some more about the thought of the IV drip again (see The Trip Commences for further explanation of this) and me walking into the Welcome Center with that attached. Continued to sing whatever song was on the church CD when I shut off the van but I didn't do it as loudly as I did in the van because I didn't want to look like a complete nut. Realized it was way too late to avoid looking like a complete nut so I promptly decided I didn't care. Looked over towards the vending machines and thought about ice cream for breakfast. Hmmmm. If I got some, I wouldn't have to stop again until I needed gas. I love ice cream. I love Blue Bunny ice cream in particular because I am an ice cream snob. I will eat that stuff that comes in the ten gallon bucket if I have to but if I don't have to, then please oh please let there be Edy's or BB in the freezer section. Breyer's will do in a pinch, but only certain kinds. I guess I like my ice cream made out of the ingredients no one can pronounce.
Who eats ice cream for breakfast?
Me. That's who. At least on this trip I did. I justified it by saying I didn't really sleep long enough for it to be actual going to bed sleep so this could technically be a midnight snack even though it was closer to noon than midnight. Ice cream could be considered a dairy serving and the almonds could be considered protein. The whole eliminating an extra stop for something to eat came into play again and really who was going to know that I was eating ice cream for breakfast? This is how sin enters our lives, through justification, and boy was I on the justification bandwagon! I had about ten excuses ready for my breakfast choice just in case I ran into someone I knew at the Ky Welcome Center.
I was clear on not knowing anyone in the rest area. But there is always someone who knows or finds out what we are doing.
In this case it was Mike since I called him and told him because I was in the van laughing about eating ice cream for breakfast and because I wanted to brag about it a little bit. Small minds amuse easily. Especially when that small mind is wired on soda, sleep deprived, hasn't grown up yet and is eating ice cream at 8am.
My sister almost knew too because what I was eating was a Mississippi Mud ice cream sandwich and I was so excited about seeing it in the freezer that I almost called her to brag about getting to eat it. When I lived in Florida, I got her hooked on eating those when she came to visit. It didn't really take much to hook her since it was chocolate ice cream after all and our whole family has the chocolate craving gene. Basically, it is chocolate ice cream with almonds in it, in sandwich form and it is good. We used to be able to get them in Ohio but then the stupid little carry out we found them at stopped carrying them. Then they went out of business and it serves them right for not having Mississippi Mud ice cream sandwiches anymore.
It was 8:00am, I was eating a Mississippi Mud ice cream sandwich for breakfast, the sunrise from earlier was very beautiful, it was warm outside and I was on my way to pick up the kids to head to Florida for half of the summer. What else could I possibly need?
Another MMICS?
I thought about it but I think I remembered that gluttony was one of the seven deadly sins or something weird like that and even though the thought of perhaps dying after eating an MMICS might not be a bad way to go and I thought that all sin was pretty much deadly if left unchecked and unconfessed, I kind of hoped it wasn't going to be my turn just yet. Plus, what I had in the van was a cooler, not a freezer. Too bad for me.
Am I ever going to get there? Am I there yet?
Explaining the Title
A few days ago I told my Mom I set up a blog. She said, "A what?" So I attempted to explain what a blog was.
Then I told her the name of my blog: "T's Tomes". I said, "I always wanted to have my own bookstore. I wanted to call it T's Tomes even though most people probably don't know what a "tome" is. If it was a good bookstore, it wouldn't matter if people understood the name or not. When I was a kid, I thought if I had my own bookstore I could somehow spend the whole day reading and get paid to do it. When I grew up (sort of), I realized I would go out of business because I would be too busy reading my books to actually sell any which is obviously why I have the job I have instead. I would also be fired from my imaginary librarian job that I used to want to have because I would be hanging out in the stacks reading stuff instead of shelving it.
So I have a blog now, instead.
Mom said, "What's a tome?"
I told you most people don't know what a tome is.
A tome is a large or scholarly book or a roll of papyrus. Even though this blog is obviously not a book, will probably never be scholarly and does not resemble papyrus in any way, I called it T's Tomes because of my bookstore I never got to own and of course the novel that has been written in my mind, published, and sits in the coveted best seller location in my imaginary bookstore. I may have gone on book signing tours but if you weren't paying attention you probably missed me when I was in your city.
The other idea I came up with was Delta Deffely's Diatribes and Dialogue or The 4 D's. But that seemed like too much of a mouthful and even though there might possibly be one or two people who might comment on this craziness I've concocted, I doubt there would be actual dialogue. However, on occasion I reserve the right to go off on a diatribe if I want to. It's my blog and I can do what I want.
This is T's Tomes and if you laugh a little while you are here, then my work has been successful.
Then I told her the name of my blog: "T's Tomes". I said, "I always wanted to have my own bookstore. I wanted to call it T's Tomes even though most people probably don't know what a "tome" is. If it was a good bookstore, it wouldn't matter if people understood the name or not. When I was a kid, I thought if I had my own bookstore I could somehow spend the whole day reading and get paid to do it. When I grew up (sort of), I realized I would go out of business because I would be too busy reading my books to actually sell any which is obviously why I have the job I have instead. I would also be fired from my imaginary librarian job that I used to want to have because I would be hanging out in the stacks reading stuff instead of shelving it.
So I have a blog now, instead.
Mom said, "What's a tome?"
I told you most people don't know what a tome is.
A tome is a large or scholarly book or a roll of papyrus. Even though this blog is obviously not a book, will probably never be scholarly and does not resemble papyrus in any way, I called it T's Tomes because of my bookstore I never got to own and of course the novel that has been written in my mind, published, and sits in the coveted best seller location in my imaginary bookstore. I may have gone on book signing tours but if you weren't paying attention you probably missed me when I was in your city.
The other idea I came up with was Delta Deffely's Diatribes and Dialogue or The 4 D's. But that seemed like too much of a mouthful and even though there might possibly be one or two people who might comment on this craziness I've concocted, I doubt there would be actual dialogue. However, on occasion I reserve the right to go off on a diatribe if I want to. It's my blog and I can do what I want.
This is T's Tomes and if you laugh a little while you are here, then my work has been successful.
The Trip Commences
I left last Monday morning around 4:45am for the sunny climes of central Florida. I was already late by approximately eight hours but since I'd been doing my best imitation of the chicken without it's head for the past week, I decided I needed to sleep before I left. I managed to get to bed somewhere around 11:30 and then ignored the alarm for 45 minutes or so when it went off at 3:00 am. That is just an ungodly hour as far as I'm concerned. If I see 3:00 am it's because I've been up reading or working or looking for Mike's wallet, or taking Mike his wallet while he sits on the turnpike waiting for said wallet, it certainly isn't because I've gone to bed at a decent hour and am now ready to get up. God doesn't want me to be getting up at 3:00 am. He might want others to get up at that time, but not me. Thankfully, it isn't His will for me. I think it is God's will that I get up around 10:00, 9:00 if I have to and if it's during the school year I guess it's His will for me to be up at 7:45. If I had to get up at 3:00 am, I would have to go to bed at 5 or 6 in the evening, possibly even 4. If that happened who would get dinner for the natives and see that their homework was done? See? I told you it isn't God's will for me.
Anyway, I'm sure Mike was impressed with me ignoring the clock since he hears the alarm and gets up instantly. I guess it's that Marine Corps training. I get up instantly too. It's just 30-45 instances later, that's all. Mike doesn't agree that this is the definition of "instantly" but he's entitled to his opinion. I looked on webster.com and "instantly" has more than one definition, plus, I like to make up my own definitions if I need to. My Mom also wants to know why I can't just set the alarm for the time I need to get up and well, get up. I don't know. I need to ease into the day, that's why. So, I need 30 minutes of interrupted sleep to do that I guess. Anyway, was my Mom in the Marine Corps too or something?
Ahem...
Around 4:52 I yawned for the first time on this trip. I was pretty sure it was going to be the first of 4,239 yawns before I reached central Florida. I also cracked my first Dr. Pepper of the trip. I was afraid to think about how many I was probably going to need to stay awake for this drive and how jittery I was going to be at the end of the drive after a case of Diet Dr. Pepper. Maybe I would need to switch things up a little bit and go for a Cherry Diet Dr. Pepper or perhaps even a Diet Pepsi. I decided I would probably get some type of weird disease due to all the aspartame I would be consuming in order to finish this drive. I was disappointed that I failed to ask Belinda whether or not it was possible to get an IV Dr. Pepper drip for the ride down to Florida. It probably would have been cheaper except my HMO wouldn't cover it as it would be "elective". Also, I don't have an HMO. I admit that I laughed like a simpleton for a few miles while I imagined the looks I would get pushing my IV pole into the rest area with a can of Dr. Pepper tipped upside down dripping into the bag and then into my arm. Kind of a funny visual isn't it? All I can say is that at 5:00 am many things are funny that are not funny once the sun comes up. I think I might have accidentally spit on the windshield when I burst out laughing at that particular visual.
I believe I have digressed a time or two here. Moving along.
I made my first stop at 5:05 at the Lucas County Public Library to drop off my books. I was going to bring them with me but they were new releases and I was afraid someone would request them while I was gone and I'd have to figure out how to ship them back home or else just pay the fine. I hated to give up my books, but I hated the potential fine also, so into the book drop they went. Besides, I had approximately, eight or nine books with me anyway so it wasn't like I was going to need the two I gave back to the library. What was I thinking when I packed? Nine dogs, four kids and nine books? I needed way more reading material. Just kidding.
Around 4:58am I yawned for the eighth time this trip. It was going to be an excruciatingly long drive today and I was supposed to be in Gatlinburg already asleep and instantly waking up at 8:00am to finish the drive to Florida with the kids.
Back to the car and onto 475 with Mercy Me's "10" CD blasting on the radio. "Ten Special Rules" or whatever it's called is a pretty clever adaptation of the 10 Commandments and it makes me laugh cuz my kids like it and do the "Butt Bounce" while singing it. I hope that isn't offensive to anyone. Basically, it's about the only "dance" you can do while confined to a carseat and it's pretty funny to watch in the mirror. I can watch them do the BB, laugh, sing, change CDs, text, dig money out for the turnpike toll and drive all at the same time. Thankfully, driving to Florida does not require travelling on the turnpike, at least not in Ohio.
When one is driving the highways and byways of the midwest, we are the van careening down the road looking quite a lot like the van Bob the Tomato is driving in the "Jonah" movie. In fact, after I picked the kids up, they were singing "Drive into the river Bob" from the Jonah movie. Then laughed like hyenas when they decided they should have been singing that when Grandpa was driving them over to Knoxville to meet me since his name is, Bob. What did you think it was?
But I got ahead of myself because between Toledo and BG yawns number #38 - #62 were expended. Wow. This is going to be a really long trip. Anyone still with me? Breakfast is coming up as soon as I hit Kentucky and you won't want to miss the description of my culinary delight.
Anyway, I'm sure Mike was impressed with me ignoring the clock since he hears the alarm and gets up instantly. I guess it's that Marine Corps training. I get up instantly too. It's just 30-45 instances later, that's all. Mike doesn't agree that this is the definition of "instantly" but he's entitled to his opinion. I looked on webster.com and "instantly" has more than one definition, plus, I like to make up my own definitions if I need to. My Mom also wants to know why I can't just set the alarm for the time I need to get up and well, get up. I don't know. I need to ease into the day, that's why. So, I need 30 minutes of interrupted sleep to do that I guess. Anyway, was my Mom in the Marine Corps too or something?
Ahem...
Around 4:52 I yawned for the first time on this trip. I was pretty sure it was going to be the first of 4,239 yawns before I reached central Florida. I also cracked my first Dr. Pepper of the trip. I was afraid to think about how many I was probably going to need to stay awake for this drive and how jittery I was going to be at the end of the drive after a case of Diet Dr. Pepper. Maybe I would need to switch things up a little bit and go for a Cherry Diet Dr. Pepper or perhaps even a Diet Pepsi. I decided I would probably get some type of weird disease due to all the aspartame I would be consuming in order to finish this drive. I was disappointed that I failed to ask Belinda whether or not it was possible to get an IV Dr. Pepper drip for the ride down to Florida. It probably would have been cheaper except my HMO wouldn't cover it as it would be "elective". Also, I don't have an HMO. I admit that I laughed like a simpleton for a few miles while I imagined the looks I would get pushing my IV pole into the rest area with a can of Dr. Pepper tipped upside down dripping into the bag and then into my arm. Kind of a funny visual isn't it? All I can say is that at 5:00 am many things are funny that are not funny once the sun comes up. I think I might have accidentally spit on the windshield when I burst out laughing at that particular visual.
I believe I have digressed a time or two here. Moving along.
I made my first stop at 5:05 at the Lucas County Public Library to drop off my books. I was going to bring them with me but they were new releases and I was afraid someone would request them while I was gone and I'd have to figure out how to ship them back home or else just pay the fine. I hated to give up my books, but I hated the potential fine also, so into the book drop they went. Besides, I had approximately, eight or nine books with me anyway so it wasn't like I was going to need the two I gave back to the library. What was I thinking when I packed? Nine dogs, four kids and nine books? I needed way more reading material. Just kidding.
Around 4:58am I yawned for the eighth time this trip. It was going to be an excruciatingly long drive today and I was supposed to be in Gatlinburg already asleep and instantly waking up at 8:00am to finish the drive to Florida with the kids.
Back to the car and onto 475 with Mercy Me's "10" CD blasting on the radio. "Ten Special Rules" or whatever it's called is a pretty clever adaptation of the 10 Commandments and it makes me laugh cuz my kids like it and do the "Butt Bounce" while singing it. I hope that isn't offensive to anyone. Basically, it's about the only "dance" you can do while confined to a carseat and it's pretty funny to watch in the mirror. I can watch them do the BB, laugh, sing, change CDs, text, dig money out for the turnpike toll and drive all at the same time. Thankfully, driving to Florida does not require travelling on the turnpike, at least not in Ohio.
When one is driving the highways and byways of the midwest, we are the van careening down the road looking quite a lot like the van Bob the Tomato is driving in the "Jonah" movie. In fact, after I picked the kids up, they were singing "Drive into the river Bob" from the Jonah movie. Then laughed like hyenas when they decided they should have been singing that when Grandpa was driving them over to Knoxville to meet me since his name is, Bob. What did you think it was?
But I got ahead of myself because between Toledo and BG yawns number #38 - #62 were expended. Wow. This is going to be a really long trip. Anyone still with me? Breakfast is coming up as soon as I hit Kentucky and you won't want to miss the description of my culinary delight.
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