Easter recap

Wow, what an absolutely beautiful Easter Sunday it has been. The weather was gorgeous. Our church service was beautiful. And we spent the day together as a family. He is risen indeed.

But that's not to say everything was 100% perfect. For starters, my 8yo son has yet to learn that he is not to manhandle the communion bread. Today he took a big piece (bigger than usual, which is already much bigger than others take.)

But he was really proud of his piece today because, "I finally pulled it off with only two fingers." What he failed to acknowledge was that he also stuck his other grubby paw on the bread as well, thus ensuring the two fingers of his opposite hand met with loaf pinching success.
Sigh.

Then there was the fact that my 3yo, who insisted on being held in my arms during the lengthy music worship, entertained himself in one of two charming ways: hitting "the girls" repeatedly while announcing "bra" as his motto, or attempting to grab said bra by reaching down the front of my blouse.
Just swell.
And wouldn't you know it, this embarrasing exchange took place on the day when Carl had invited a first time guest to join us for service (thankfully, I was spared mortification since he sat three people away and on the other side of Carl.)

We also logged our usual walking miles at a local park this evening. We figured it would be packed due to the great weather and spring holiday. Nope. Not sure where everyone holed up but it wasn't there, which was a bit of a disappointment because it meant Carl and I didn't get to sing, Footloose and I'm Alright .
Yeah, we like to do that every time we run into a guy who also frequents the walking path, who looks strikingly like Kenny Loggins.
And no, we do not sing those songs within earshot as he passes by.
As if.
Believe it or not, we do have some tact, you know.
We sing Danger Zone to him instead.

When we got back to the parking lot, a few young muscleheads received a bit of an ego bruising from one observant 3 year old. Brandon, who was busy attempting to ride his big sister's scooter through the parking lot, noticed the guys' Pontiac Solstice parked next to our van.


He stared at it with an expression that told me he was clearly in deep thought.
Then, "Hey mom. Is dat dare car?"
"Yes, honey. That is their car."
Brandon immediately broke out in a robust toddler giggle, announcing, "It looks like a Bar-bie carrrrr!"


And an "H" family day wouldn't be complete without at least a few Bunkerisms from Olivia. Like, "I need a varity of plants to feed my bugs, mom." Or, "I'll be sure to take my concrete jewelry off when we get home from church."
Good thing. Wouldn't want her stretching out her earlobes at such a young age and all.

Happy Easter!

Toni

The "ticking" of times together.

I love the 80's.
Okay yes, those 80's too.
But I'm talking about 80 degree temperatures.
And that's what we were blessed with here in IN today. Ahhhh, mighty nice. We took advantage of the beautiful day and decided to begin our pre-season hikes to get the kids ready for the longer and more vigorous hikes our family takes all summer long. The perfect training ground is a remote park called McCloud Nature Park. The unpaved trails and uneven ground surface are perfect for working little legs out. Add the "new" truss bridge project was recently completed to the other side of the river. This meant a brand new area of the park for us to explore since our last visit to McCloud. 110 new acres to be exact ("Deep in the hundred acre wood where Christopher Robin played...") A backpack of bottled water and one very excited dog later, we were on our way.

We decided to hike along the river first, stopping to let the dog go for a much coveted swim. What a wild man he was. No matter how many times we threw the dang stick in the water, he demanded begged for one more. Such the alpha male. This naturally meant that we got our share of river water too. Ever see that scene in Beethoven where the St. Bernard shakes off mud and water all over the bed? Yeah, well! Think of our dog as Beethoven and think of us as "the bed." Mud and water everywhere. Please feel free to remind me that all little boys need to grow up with a dog (grrr!)

In the world of Alpha dogs though, we were quickly losing control of our "pack". Reece found a plastic shovel in the sand along the river and quickly decided he was sunning and funning at Myrtle Beach. Cierah was busy in her own world of Sanibel, what with the shell collection she believed she would be hauling home. Brandon was busy trying to launch sand like a baseball, no matter how many times we instructed him to "Put that sand down this very second!"

And Olivia,....Olivia?

"Where the heck is Olivia?"

Well isn't that special.
Olivia, unbeknownst to us, had packed a handy sketch pad and pencil in her backpack, and had wandered downstream (while we were distracted with alpah wildman) to sit down on a log and sketch "stuff"; "stuff" being turtles, frogs, and snails. Our budding naturalist LOVES to immerse herself in living things. Why, just a few days ago, she burst through the front door and flew into the kitchen exclaiming, "Mom! I always wanted to breed insects and I think my slug laid eggs in the bug habitat I built for her. 4 eggs. Do slugs lay eggs? The dad is a good dad too. He's right there. No sign of the female though."

We. Could. Not. Be. More. Polar. Opposites.....where bugs are concerned. Ewwww!

So, we calmly advise her that meandering off to sketch a slime trail or two is not okay unless we know where you are. Corraled the troops and away we went again, this time to the bridge that lead to the hundred acre woods (and fields). Ever notice there's just no quick way to cross a bridge? It's like a routine traffic stop on a major highway. Everyone knows the police officer is likely just writing a run-of-the-mill speeding ticket. Yet,....traffic slows to a crawl as curious drivers gawk.
There's just no driving by without taking a look-see to be sure you're not missing something.

And so it is with bridges. You can't just cross. It's wired into our design that we MUST stop to see what we're missing down below. For Reece, it's the opportunity to throw stones into the water. For Brandon, it's the chance to do whatever his big brother does. For our girls, it's the chance to toss wildflowers or leaves down to the water's surface. For Carl, the chance to fish, always to fish, if only with his eyes. For the dog, it's a chance to consider actually jumping off, unaware of the danger of doing so, smart enough to obey our "stay" command and yet passionate enough to want to be in the waters below in spite of the dangerous leap considered. And for me.....for me, it's the satisfaction that comes from that desperate place in a mother's heart. That place where you frequently find yourself wishing you could freeze time and keep them close forever. And for that brief moment on the bridge, time DOES freeze and you ARE close, having left the bank on one side but not yet ready to move forward toward the other. I guess that's one of the hidden blessings of suspension, that time too is momentarily suspended on the bridge, yes? Oh, the ticking of precious time spent together.

So we finally made our way across the bridge and began the uphill climb toward the scenic overlooks of the river and the open fields beyond. And that's when a most unwanted scenario came to our attention.

TICKS!

Don't get me started. Yes. Y-E-S, we know about the dangers of ticks. That's why we stay on marked paths, keep our bodies protected, and frequently check for the presence of any unwanted freeloaders. Sure enough though, on inspection we found a tick crawling on Reece. Thankfully it had not bitten him, but.....I nearly passed out at the sight of it (what with being hysterically afraid of bugs and all.) Not a few minutes later, a tick on Carl's shirt. One tick had me itching and spot checking like all get out. But TWO?
Ewwwwwww! Heebie jeebies in duh house.

We were all concerned at that point, especially as we were unsure of how we managed to attact two very unwanted ticks. But it was too late to turn back. We were far enough along that we simply had to finish our hike. And it wasn't quite so enjoyable at this point. Brandon was all, "My weggs huwt, cawwy me!" Reece was all, "Haha, daddy. You had a tick on you too." And I was all, "We're going to get Lyme disease and I'm going to dream of ticks all over me," as I fought the psychosomatic symptoms of total tick infestation all over my body. Cierah, being our "blonde" daughter, was bouncing along, clueless. I can't be certain, but I think I heard her joyfully breaking out in song, "The hills are alive...with the sound of music." And Olivia took great pride in annoucing her tick-free status every 20 steps (which naturally only fed my tick-induced neurosis.)

Can I just interject something here and say..........
This is not how the first day of shorts-wearing hiking weather in the midwest is supposed to go. Not, not, N-O-T!!! Now, why don't I feel any better for having unloaded that? Sigh.

So we made our way back to the van, completing our b'zillionth tick check of the afternoon before allowing everyone to enter the van and take their seats.
No ticks noted.
Carl began the 30 minute drive home.
10 minutes into the drive, from the third row....
The SCREAM that was heard around the world.
Argh! Arghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Brandon, clearly scared cleeean out of his britches, began to cry.
Olivia was freaking out as only I can, desperately trying to release her seatbelt as she said with great panic, "Spider!!!"

Wellll! That's all it took for this Arachnophobic mom. I ordered demanded asked Carl to pull the van over "NOW!" I jumped out of the van as Olivia practically flew out herself, me attempting to brush her off like a madwoman as she exited.
Spider check.
All clear.
Van check.
All clear......wait.
From the driver's seat, "Toni, it's on you now."
Freakin' Mike and Jake, what is on me? I was screaming like a banschee about to be boiled.
Screaming AND dancing.
On the side of the road.
Where passersby could get an eyeful, kinda like that routine traffic stop I mentioned a few minutes ago.
Nothing like being the roadside freakshow, I tell ya.
Free of charge.
Oh sure, take a gander 'cause I'm still screaming inside as I type this.

Turns out it wasn't a spider at all. NooOOoo! ANOTHER tick. People, Carl and I practially lived in the woods with our Lab back home in Ohio (chocolate Lab, that is, just in case you were picturing the wrong kind of lab). And I don't mean we just hiked on the main trails like we stayed with today. Off trail and into the woods, fields, etc. Never a tick noted. Not a one. And now we found ourselves dealing with THREE in a single day. Our first hike of the year, no less.
NOT how I'd envisioned our beautiful day together.

To put the icing on the proverbial bug cake, Carl stopped at Kroger to pick up a snack for the kids. We had checked the dog together before we all got into the van after our hike. No ticks noted. He suggested I attempt to search his fur coat again while he was in the store "just to be safe." I'm sure I don't have to tell you this is not a job I feel qualified to do, what with my light-headed aversion to bugs and all. But I also didn't want a tick, if present, to transfer from the dog to our van floor, then lie in wait to crawl up the leg of some unknowing victim (namely moi)for a disease-transferring bloodfeast either.

What to do? What to do?

I decided I just had to check the dog "just in case." As I searched under his right front paw, I felt a small nodule. It didn't freak me out, as I figued it was just dry skin and couldn't possibly be another tick. Better remove it "just in case."
And that's when the second scream that could be heard around the world was issued (locals, I apologize if you dropped your Kroger easter eggs because of me.)
Sure enough, it was another tick. I was sooooo willied out, it felt like my entire skin was crawling. As Steve Corwin once said to his cameraman when frightened by a pack of charging elephants, "What you do in your own pants is your own business."

Heebie jeebies round four!

"Leave your shoes outside."
"Strip to your undergarments and dump your clothes in the wash machine immediately."
"Stand on the tile floor while I brush your hair and check your scalp."
"Let me see your pits."
"Check your underwear. NOW! No, I am NOT kidding."
"Fold those ears over so I can see behind them."

These were the commands of a desperate and crazed mother, induced by her irrational fear of all bugs (but especially blood-sucking disease-spreading bugs such as ticks.) I still can't believe it happened. We were not wandering through the brush. And we've NEVER experienced this problem, even though we're avid hikers and are aware of the possibility of encountering ticks while hiking.

Oviously, I do not wish for a repeat of this particular "adventure" anytime soon. It is likely we were dealing with dog ticks, which unfortunately can be carriers of Rocky Mountain spotted fever. Unsettling (to say the least), even though we're confident we weren't bitten. But I probably don't have to tell you we'll be sticking to paved trails until the end of the initial tick season (yep, there is a fall season as well, sigh.)

At least we got to end the day with a good laugh. When we got home, the kids noticed their Dad's senior picture on a pile of photos I'm organizing for scrapbooking. Olivia quickly commented that it didn't look like her dad. I defended his honor, arguing back and forth with her that yes, it does look like him. She adamently stood her ground, insisting matter-of-factly, "Nope. Doesn't. Daddy does not look like that guy."
In one final attempt at defending him, I boldly stated, "Oh sure it does, honey. Just take away some of the hair and add a well-earned wrinkle or two. It's still your handsome daddy with the amazing blue eyes."
Her response? "No, mom. It doesn't. That guy has a round head and my dad's head is shaped like a pickle."

What can I say? I guess I've always had a thing for blue-eyed Larry Boys.

Toni

Cruise news

A belated report on our recent cruise of the western Caribbean, taken the second week in February. Sorry for the absence. I believe the long winter froze my motivation. ;)

Goodness, there were so many things that, according to Newton's Law, should have thrown a wrench into our cruise vacation plans. Thankfully, Newton's Law is often in direct conflict with the prevailing will of God. In other words, nothing really went wrong at all. But that doesn't mean I came away empty handed. There's a story in there somewhere. Lesee..........

As you might know, I suffered a very serious migraine attack just days before we were to begin the steps to our vacation. If you've never had a serious one, let me just paint it this way. Someone sneaks up, hits you in the back of your head with a plastic ball bat. It stings. You know you've been hit and have the sting to prove it. While you're trying to get your bearings, they trade out the plastic bat for a sledgehammer and, BAMM!, they strike again. I'm totally serious. A migraine headache doesn't feel like a headache at all. In fact, it feels like a head injury. I was nauseated and wretching. The back of my head felt like the skull had parted and I could not lay down in bed at all. The softness of the pillows felt like a vise pressing down on my skull bones. It was that bad. I went to the ER in desperation. And they provided relief after IV meds and fluids. But before the sun rose the next morning, I was in pain again. For days. Prescribed Darvocet made me wretch all over again with overwhelming nausea. Can you imagine what that does to a sledehammered head? OUCH!!!
A visit to my family doc and a migraine prescription finally brought much needed relief. I hope you are not one who suffers from this excruciating ailment at any time.

And now, the highlights (and near mishaps) of our vacation.
FRIDAY:
The day of the major snowstorm warnings for the entire midwest. Carl got off work at 1:00pm. We left as soon as he got home, as we had a 6 hour drive to Ohio to leave our kids with my parents. It took NINE hours and we counted 42 cars in the ditches, plus one semi-truck jack-knifed on 71S just above Columbus, OH. It blocked all lanes of southbound traffic heading into Columbus. Oh my! Thank goodness we were northbound.
We went to bed around 11pm at my parents', then had to get up at 2:15am to get ourselves on the standby list for our morning flights (check-in time is one way to gain priority for seats when airline employees fly standby.) Naturally, our airline's employee portal was down online, so I had to sit there for fifteen minutes in the middle of the night waiting for the site to come back up. Sigh.

SATURDAY:
We got up at 4:15am (yes, we had just been up at 2:15am) to find a good 5" of snow or more. I was SO afraid we'd get stuck, especially when my dad backed out of the driveway and we heard the deep "crunch" under the wheels. We were in my mom's Tracker and thankfully the four-wheel drive prevailed. It was a tedious drive to the airport. I worried about my dad driving back home, a 17 mile drive, alone. He made it back safely though. Phew! All still well.

We had intended to connect through LaGuardia, as there were the most open seats for standbys there. However, with Philly expecting a FOOT of snow and all (Oy vey!)....good thing we went to Dallas. In fact, LaGuardia closed down (another disaster averted). We knew we'd likely get bumped off a few flights in Dallas, but barring a cancelled Dallas-Miami flight, we figured we'd eventually get out of Dallas and on to Miami. It took three tries, but we finally found ourselves on a flight bound for Miami (and had business class seats too. They fully recline, you have your own screen for viewing movies or playing games, and you're provided a full sized pillow and down comforter. Yeah, it was GOOD!)


We usually make a trip over to Bayside Mall in Miami. It's a funky, artsy outdoor mall with lots of eateries and boutique shopping. Unfortunately, we arrived in Miami too late to do that, so we ate at the airport and then headed over to our hotel. There had been some confusion over our reservation after we booked it (as in the hotel confirmed it, then later couldn't find it). We didn't want a room mishap because there were no rooms (zero, zilch) in all of Miami due to it being Superbowl weekend (yes, we're VERY lucky we got on any flights given that fact.) Thankfully, all was well. We received our room key and a welcome bag filled with snacks, bottled water and coupons. A nice touch from an old, refurbished hotel.

SUNDAY:
Got up early and took a walk outside our hotel. It was just down the street from where we stayed last year, but we didn't realize then that it backed up to a nice neighborhood. We enjoyed our sunny morning walk through the neighborhood, then headed back to the hotel to wait for our ride to the ship. We didn't have to wait long, and by 10:30am, we were on our way. We were one of the first 10 passengers or so on board. Our room wasn't ready, but who cares when you have a ginormous ship to explore? We enjoy looking at the millionaire homes alongside port of Miami, so we spent time doing that, eating lunch, and watching other passengers board before we set sail at 4pm. Woohoo!
MONDAY:
A day at sea. We worked out in the gym, walked almost 3 miles on deck, and enjoyed a beautiful, sunny day out by the pool. There are so many activities to enjoy that I won't list them here, but suffice it to say we had plenty to do (or not) to help us relax as we pleased.


Tuesday:
Today we were on the island of Grand Cayman.


We decided to take a Jeep 4x4 island tour. Whoa, was it ever F-U-N!


Carl was our driver, which suggests we had passengers. Another couple from our ship. Very nice, from Chicago, very TALL. I mention this only because of "the incident." Let me back up though and say that our day began with a trip to a local hotel where we had full use of their facilities; a private spot on Grand Cayman's 7-Mile Beach, lounge chairs, a free drink, restrooms, and free use of their snorkeling equipment.


We enjoyed about 2 hours on the beach before we bussed to pick up our jeeps for island touring. The guides took us to a BEAUTIFUL spot called Morgan's Harbor. It was a rustic, untouched area of coastline. In the photo, you'll see the waves breaking as a solid white line out from shore. That is actually the reef that surrounds 75% of Grand Cayman. From the shore to that point, the water only deepens to 15 feet. Beyond the reef? A FOUR MILE drop in places (I won't tell you how terrifying that is to me.)


The incident. Okay, so. We were heading back through the semi-jungle terrain of Barker national park. As we drove off of the sands of the beach onto the dirt road out, our guide yelled to Carl, "Give it the ol' Caribbean spin!" (think thick Jamaican accent there.) So Carl does what any "big boy with a toy" would do. He floored it. A 180º sand tosser and we quickly got up to about 45mph when he suddenly noted the HUGE potholes in the dirt road.

It was too late to safely avoid them, as we were already into the "put the shocks to the test" phase of hitting the potholes. If he had forced the breaks, we might well have flipped the vehicle. So there was nothing to do but release his foot from the gas and bump and bounce along until the jeep slowed down. And THAT is when it happened.

As we hit several large potholes, a loud "K-bang, k-bang" was heard in the back seats. I assumed it was seat belt buckles, but oh. no. it. was. not. Before I could safely spin around in my seat to see what had happened,.....BAMM! I myself was in the backseat.
Not just me.
All of me.
As in seat and all.
And I landed in the lap of a six foot tall stranger of a man behind me.
"Why, hellooOo there." To my great relief, he was laughing hysterically (and frankly, I thought it might be a sign of head trauma). It seems my jeep seat didn't lock into place well, as I ended up in said stranger's lap TWO MORE times before it was all said and done.

We spent time at the Rum factory (nothin' like giving a bunch of cruisers the keys to your jeeps, then heading on over to the rum factory and offering them free samples of about 15 different rums and rum cakes, eh?)




We also went to Hell.


No, not that Hell.
Hell, Grand Cayman.
It got its name from the unusual rock formation behind the post office (yes, you can send postcards from Hell. Who knew?)

Wednesday:
We arrived on the island of Cozumel. Because we've been there several times already, we opted to take a 45 minute ferry ride to the mainland to visit the Mayan ruins at Tulum, a 45 minute bus ride away.


The tour operators were wonderful and provided us with a thorough historical overview before arriving. The grounds were absolutely beautiful and the beach behind them? To die for. It was soooo lovely.


Not as lovely as Crane Beach on the island of Barbados, but still breathtaking. What wasn't so lovely, and in fact was downright frightening was the ferry ride over and back. The water was rough enough to make us somewhat seasick on the ride over to the mainland. Imagine our dismay when we got back from the ruins, only to discover the sea had become even more choppy. I was seriously concerned for our safety heading back to the ship. Hubby wasn't, but he tends to happily roll with the waves punches so you can't go by him.

Thursday:
Another day at sea as we made our way back to Miami. On this day, we saw the best performance we've ever taken in on a ship. It was a dance group from the Jean Ann Ryan Company. This production company turns out Broadway and Vegas quality shows and let me tell you, they were extremely talented and polished. They performed two nights and both were equally fabulous. However, on Thursday night, Hubs told me to look above my head during the show. What did I see? You'll have to go HERE, then click on the picture image to experience it. We sat right up front and I still can't believe that caliber of a performance was included in my cruising cost. Amazing!

Friday:
We got up very early, ate breakfast on the ship, then waited for the announcement that we could deboard. It came early enough that we wanted to try to make a mad dash for the airport to try to catch the first flight out. Otherwise, we anticipated a long day of full flights. Thankfully, we did get there in time to make the flight to Chicago and connected back into Cleveland with no trouble.

THE END (Well, until next year, that is. Getting this down, Sniz and Big Doofus?) ;)

Toni

Just a note to say...

I don't usually jot down "just a quick note" but decided I would just this once, so you'll know where I've been and where I'm at.

Where I've been:
In a dark bedroom for 6 days, sitting upright in a chair and praying for healing. I had a most awful migraine that was relentless. A trip to the ER, IV meds and fluids, weekend calls to the doc for more meds (which made me sicker), a Monday visit to my family doc for an injection and even MORE meds and finally (FINALLY!), relief is coming now. So that's where I've been.

Where I'm going:
To the Caribbean to rest and recoup. It won't be the same without our dear, dear friends, SNIZ and BIG DOOFUS (they were with us last year and we all had thee BEST time together.) But It will be fun and it is sooo needed at the moment. I'll give a glimpse of it when we get back.

Oh, and one more thing.
I just wanted to say hello to several new friends who popped in very recently here on my blog. How nice to "see" some new names and I'll be sure to stop to visit you when we get back. And I want to say thank you too to faithful readers who have regularly come out of the shadows to comment and to let me know you're there. I really enjoy writing, first for myself as a creative outlet. It's something I've always needed to do, probably since around the fourth grade (courtesy of my phys. ed teacher who also happened to be a published author and encouraged my attempts with the pen and page.)

But I do write for my readers as well, in the hopes that God will somehow use my spin on the seemingly mundane moments of everyday life to remind both you and me that there really is a glass half full in the midst of whatever season we're in. To me (in my limited understanding of how life works) it would be terribly sad to have passed through the limited number of seasons we're each given to experience while on this earth, and to NOT have recognized the blessings hidden among the burdens. And sometimes,...sometimes those blessings are disguised as the average moments of average days. 'Nuff said.

See y'all soon! :)

Toni

Time travel

I absolutely love calla lillies. Every time I see one, I'm immediately transported back in time to the absolute best of times, my early childhood and days spent with my grandparents back in Pennsylvania. My mom grew up in a tiny "patch" town which sprung up in the first decade of the 20th century in response to the coal mining industry there. I would venture to say that maybe 300 people lived in her town? And that figure might well be generous.

My grandparents had little in the way of material comforts. But they had what really mattered; a roof over their heads, enough food on the table, and deep, abiding faith that carried them through the very darkest of days, even the loss of their daughter, Toni, after she gave birth to their first grandchild.
Yet, I, as a child, wouldn't have known they had little. Because in my little girl eyes, they held the keys to the kingdom and I was always excited to head for their "castle" on the hill (yes, their little town flourished on the side of a lone hill.)

There were only 2 bedrooms in Gram and Pap's house (three if you count the storage room that was perhaps 6'x10' at best, and was once used as a bedroom.) Including myself, there were four of us kids, and we absolutely loved to pile into the down feather beds, two to a bed, to fall asleep to the sounds of barking dogs in the distance and the smell of coal in the air. That bedroom, to me, was special. It sat at the end of a short but curved hallway with a single sconce light on the wall. And I thought my Gram and Pap were rich because really, who has curved halls?

Mornings were always the same. I awakened to the smell of fresh coffee, visible in the glass top of Gram's perculator. And she sometimes gave me a plastic teacup filled with just a bit of coffee and a barrel of cream. I might have been 5 or 6 years old and definitely not fond of the taste of coffee, but that mattered none. At Gram's house, it was ritual and I was not about to miss out.

Her kitchen seemed large to me as a child. In retrospect, I realize it was really very small. I still remember the pattern on the linoleum. And the lovely glass knob on the basement door. The canned sardines in the pantry. And Pap's oak desk in the corner. Oh, and the warmth of the stove. But most of all, I remember the view from the kitchen window. It directed one's eyes further up the hillside, to the cemetery that sat near the very top. The cemetery where my Aunt Toni was laid to rest. Gram used to do the dishes there, and occasionally I would see her gazing up that hill. While I can't be certain, I do believe that she might have been with my Aunt Toni, if only in thought, in those moments.
Time travel? Hmmm...
I sometimes wonder if the view from that place in Gram's window brought both pain and peace.

We loved to sit on the high front porch on summer nights after our baths, Pap listening to his transister radio, mosquito coils giving off their famliar smell, as the glow of the imposing street lights cast a radiance on our time spent together. Bowls of icecream in our laps, we sang songs, chatted, and attempted to hang on to whatever time we had left to our day before the final bedtime call was issued. Then off we'd go, down the enchanted curved hall to our feather down slumberland for the night.

And that's when I'd always take note of it.

The oval framed photo hanging just through the entry way that lead to the curved hall. The antique frame, with it's beveled glass and youthful subjects. It was a photo of my grandparents on their wedding day long ago. My grandfather looked tall (he wasn't) and proud (he sure was). And my grandmother? The most beautiful bride I had ever laid my youthful eyes on.

And those flowers.

Those magnificant, soft and wonderfully curved flowers.
I didn't know what they were then.
I only knew that they captivated me every time I took notice of them.

I'm not sure I ever ventured through that arched entrance toward the back rooms of Gram's house without taking notice of the wedding photo and the magical beauty of the calla lilies my grandmother held in her bouquet.

So, many years later, when I became a bride, I carried calla lillies in my wedding too. They were, are, and always will be a symbolic connection to that brief and precious time in my life called childhood. I love that they transport me back to a place of incredible love, safety, and peace.

Time travel.

Perhaps not unlike that kitchen window and the faraway place I sometimes noticed in my grandmother's eyes when she stood there staring up the hill?

Only she knows the answer to that.

And I fully intend to ask her someday, when I am blessed to see her again.

Love and miss you always, Gram and Pap.
Wish I could tell you that in person on any given day.

Toni

Sketchy Santa: lesson learned

It all started just before Christmas. Expectations shattered, that is. We had taken the kids to get pictures with our local Santa who, by the way, speaks with a serious southern drawl and looks,...hmmm, not sure,...like he's either very tired or somewhat tipsy (if you need a good laugh clarification, just go HERE and I'm sure you'll come away with a better understanding of our own sketchy Santa.)

So we waited in line for over 30 minutes for our chance at slapping down $15 for a single 5x7 photo (sheesh, apparently Santa's working the poor enconomy as well), and finally it was our turn. The kids briefed Santa on their wants of the moment (which were changing just about hourly at that point in the season). Santa then directed them to choose a candy cane from the box next to him. Brandon, age 3, had a puzzled look on his face.

"Go on, baby. Choose a candy cane."
(heard behind me: "Hey Santa, can I have two?" Heard from my own voicebox: "Hey Reece, don't ask Santa for more than you're supposed to get." Santa accomodated Reece's request, no doubt to move my pack along.)

Next thing I know, Brandon is taking a candy cane while pouting and clearly holding back tears.

As we walked outside into the artic-like winter winds, he began to cry.
"Baby, what's the matter? Didn't you like Santa?"
"Yes." (pout, sniffle)
"Don't you like candy canes? Santa even let you take two."
"Yes." (pout, sniffle)
"Then,...why are you crying?"
"Santa din't gib me a heweecoptoo an' a aiw-pwane."

Ahhhh, I get it now.
Brandon had seen Santa (the "one and only" Santa as far as his 3 year old mind was concerned) when we visited our Children's Museum a few weeks earlier. He had told Santa of his wish to get an airplane and a helicopter.
So as far as Brandon was concerned, the "order" had been placed.
In his little mind, we were going to see Santa again for one reason and one reason only.
To pick up his gifts.
The photo op was merely a formality. Where were the gifts?
Sketchy Santa failed to deliver. Brandon was highly disappointed.
Carl had to get down to eye level and explain in 3 year old terms that NO, Santa did not forget what Brandon had asked for. And NO, Santa did not provide token candycanes in lieu of Brandon's wish list. It's just that Brandon was too small to see the bigger picture.

Brandon felt forgotten by Santa. Haven't you ever felt like that? Like God doesn't hear you, that He isn't answering your prayerful pleas? I am vividly reminded of Psalm 77, where the psalmist is clearly traveling through one of life's darkest valleys.
He is tired.
He is definitely frustrated.
He feels so very, very alone.
And he isn't holding back as he pours out his troubled heart to God.

He mentions a sense of abandonment in verse 2. He also seems to lash out at God in desperate frustration in verses 3 and 4, going so far as to say that remembering God makes him tearful and unable to rest. Honestly, haven't you ever felt like that? I know I have.

But I love that Psalm 77 doesn't end with a burdened soul who cannot cope. To me, it's a message from God of tremendous encouragement. He wants me to know that He has not forgotten me, nor foresaken me (Heb 13:5). And He demonstrates this in Psalm 77 through the response of the psalmist to God's seeming silence, beginning in verse 10.

How?

Simply by recalling all the times in his life (or in the past) when God was there, when His hand did become evident, when it became clear that He in fact heard and was answering prayer, perhaps even when the psalmist didn't realize He was at work (my thoughts there.)

And like Brandon, sometimes we also are just too small to see the big picture. But it doesn't mean that it isn't being painted or even already finished. God is already there, at the end of each struggle we face. He knows how it will all work out. He does hear us.

The next time you're struggling to feel Him in your circumstances, why not meditate on the great things He has done?
Recall how He revealed Himself to you in times past, and draw on the knowledge that He was there then and is still there now.
Always listening.
Always working.
Always ready to provide His feet as a place where your burdens can be laid down.

Remember that.

And don't hesitate to meditate on the words of Psalm 77 when life blows in around you with gale force.

I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me.
2 When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring hands
and my soul refused to be comforted.

3 I remembered you, O God, and I groaned;
I mused, and my spirit grew faint.
Selah

4 You kept my eyes from closing;
I was too troubled to speak.

5 I thought about the former days,
the years of long ago;

6 I remembered my songs in the night.
My heart mused and my spirit inquired:

7 "Will the Lord reject forever?
Will he never show his favor again?

8 Has his unfailing love vanished forever?
Has his promise failed for all time?

9 Has God forgotten to be merciful?
Has he in anger withheld his compassion?"
Selah

10 Then I thought, "To this I will appeal:
the years of the right hand of the Most High."

11 I will remember the deeds of the LORD;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.

12 I will meditate on all your works
and consider all your mighty deeds.

13 Your ways, O God, are holy.
What god is so great as our God?

14 You are the God who performs miracles;
you display your power among the peoples.

15 With your mighty arm you redeemed your people,
the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.
Selah

16 The waters saw you, O God,
the waters saw you and writhed;
the very depths were convulsed.

17 The clouds poured down water,
the skies resounded with thunder;
your arrows flashed back and forth.

18 Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind,
your lightning lit up the world;
the earth trembled and quaked.

19 Your path led through the sea,
your way through the mighty waters,
though your footprints were not seen.

20 You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Toni

Outsourced!

Don't you just love it when you get a new toy?
Honestly, it's great when you can catapult yourself back in time to experience the excitement and wonder of Christmas morning like a kid again; when, on occasion, you receive a gift that, simply put, feels like a toy. That's just what happened to Hubs and I this year. We made the six hour trip to Ohio to visit my parents the week before Christmas and found ourselves on the receiving end of a brand new toy. My parents got us a GPS.

Now you have to know that we LOVE small town America. Can't get enough of it. We'll be driving along a country road, out in the middle of nowhere, and we'll see a sign that reads something like, "Chatham, 2 miles." The curiosity immediately takes over.

Chatham?
What's in Chatham?
How small is Chatham?
Do they have a downtown to speak of?
A traffic light, even?
How many people live in Chatham?
Is there a must-visit diner in Chatham?

Before you know it, we're turned around and headed to Chatham because we simply MUST know.
Ya know?
Yes, really. We love to get our fill of small town America.
So a GPS, combined with a six hour drive back to our home? Oh baby, come to Momma. ;)

And at first it was great fun. We laughed when she reprimanded us for turning the "wrong" way (reminds me of that line from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles: "You're going the wrong way," to which John Candy replies, "How would they know where we're going?") We also enjoyed using the various GPS features to check out local sights. And the gas station feature? A must (we nearly ran out on our way home last trip, at night, in the middle of nowhere and with no knowledge of the route we had decided on that day.)

It didn't take long, though, to realize that she was taking over.
SHE! With her, "Turn here" and "Make a left there."
SHE, with her clarity of voice and powerful presence, all up in my face dashboard and all.
SHE, staging a full coup. An all-and-out, "Take your lame collection of laminated maps and your backseat driver's permit and join another row 'cause you're not needed in the front row any longer," take-over.
SHE, in reality, had replaced me.

Suddenly, I was just another passenger on the manifest.
No longer the second in command.
No longer the eyes and ears of the captain.
No longer the lighthouse or ship's navigator.
No longer needed for anything involved with getting us home.
In effect,.....I was outsourced.

Come to find out you're apparently supposed to name your SHE. And so, after careful consideration, we narrowed it down and crowned her with a title truly worthy of one who waltzes in and takes away the job of another.

Her name?
Nellie the Scab.
Well what would you name someone who came in and stole your job away? Exactly!

Oh, the adventures we look forward to with our new "friend", Nellie.
But I'm telling you right now, she better bring her best game at all times.
Otherwise?
I might see fit to dim her lights and resurrect my map collection.
Not that I'm bitter about my, uh hem, displacement or anything.

Toni