Brain Dead

I must be brain dead. I read everyone's wonderful posts, and I think to myself, "Why can't I write like that?"

Last Saturday our Sweet Adelines chorus had a coaching session that went from 9 to 3. Coaching was us was Jackpot, a quartet from our region who placed sixth at international last year. What a day we had. We worked on our competition songs. Each of the ladies contributed so much, from helping us with our breathing, to listening for the other parts so that we sang smoothly as with one voice. It was a wonderful day.

Later that evening our chorus took part in a benefit for a men's quartet who is traveling to Indianapolis to compete in the men's international contest. After standing on risers for most of five hours, I wondered how we would do in the evening. Along with our chorus, Venetian Harmony sang. The men's chorus from Sarasota sang. Two of the men's quartets each sang a couple of songs, then the Ditchfield family sang. This group is made up of a man, his wife, three sons, one daughter, and a daughter-in-law. The quartet, My Three Sons, which is Mr. Ditchfield and his sons are the quartet going to international.

Our chorus didn't get on the risers until about 9 o'clock in the evening. I wondered if we would have the energy needed to sing well after sitting for a couple of hours. When we got on the risers, though, the energy came. We put into practice what we had learned during the day. And we had FUN.

We were still talking about it this evening at chorus rehearsal.

Thursday afternoon, Sarah and I are leaving for Waynesboro, Virginia, to attend a baby shower for my daughter-in-law. It will be a quick trip, too quick, since I have to get back for an eye appointment on Tuesday afternoon, but at least we'll get to share in the fun for a few hours.

Father's Day

I've read blogs about fathers today. I rejoice with those who still have their dad and can talk to him. In some cases, the adult child is living with the parents, seeing to their care while they're not quite finished raising their own children.

My daddy died when I was twenty-two. Now I'm 64. Many years have passed. I have pictures of him at my college graduation. He was so proud of me and what I had accomplished. He had only finished the eighth grade. I don't know why he did not finish, perhaps to work and help out the family. He was a very smart man. His penmanship was immaculate. I don't have any letters that he wrote, but I have his signature on documents that he signed, and I cherish even those.

When I graduated from college, I went to Norwood, Ohio, and taught in a small Christian school for a couple of years. That first year, one of the teachers could sense that I was homesick, and said to me, "Why don't we go to Florida for Veteran's Day weekend?" And so we did. That weekend was enough for me to realize that it was o.k. that I had moved so far away from home (or so everyone in Florida thought.)

Since I had come home in November, I didn't come home for Christmas. Rather, I took a bus to Iowa to visit a college teacher and then up to Minnesota to visit in the teacher's home...the one who had come to Florida with me. On the morning of January 24, 1964, I received a phone call that my daddy had died during the night of a heart attack. My life stopped for a while. I came home that day to see my mother, distraught, and grieving this man who had been her husband for 30 years. As I met her, I thought to myself, "I've got to be strong for her," and so I never cried during the week I was home for his funeral. But that came about a month later. I started crying and thought I'd never stop.

Fast forward to 2002. My daughter graduated from college in 1999; my son, in December 2001. Their father was so proud of them. He had had a hard time in school...not a scholar, but again, a very smart man. He found in his genius in the electrical trade. All of his clients know about his children and everything they were doing. His life ended in a tragic accident in April 2002. My children's lives and mine have been alike in losing our fathers.

Just a few years ago, I began grieving for my father in a new way, and I couldn't quite figure out why. Then I came to the realization that I had not ever known my father as an adult. I didn't know really who he was, and what he was thinking, what made him tick. I didn't have that friendship with him on the adult level that I was seeing with my friends and acquaintances with their adults parents.

So I think on today with a bit of sadness, not just for me, but also for my children, who do not have their father to laugh with and cry with, and just be with.

Laughing -- It's Just Plain Fun

A couple of updates -- Ben has finished his fourth round of chemotherapy and his having continued physical therapy. The mangoes are ripening. I sent a box to my friend in New York. I hope they don't ripen too much before she gets them.

The post today is from YOUR LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM, a free newsletter
sharing life, love and laughter, published by Steve Goodier.


LAUGHING -- IT'S JUST PLAIN FUN

My friend Jack was in the hospital when the new pastor from his
church arrived. He sent a message that he would like the pastor to
call on him. Before the pastor came to the hospital, Jack ordered an
extra catheter bag from the hospital pharmacy. Since he was a
pharmacist in the hospital, he knew the staff well enough to make
such a request. Then he filled the bag with his favorite pale soft
drink --Mountain Dew.

The new pastor soon arrived and they visited for a while. At one
point, Jack reached down and picked up the bag from the side of the
bed. He studied it for a moment and then said, "It looks a little
thin. Maybe I'll run it through again." And he drank from it.

After the new pastor recovered from shock, he laughed with his new
friend. And he discovered through the years that Jack brought a
valuable gift to life -- laughter.

"The most thoroughly wasted of all days is that on which one has not
laughed," said Nicholas de Chamfort. And another merry soul made
this wise observation: "Ever notice how everyone who gets a flat tire
can laugh about it a week or a month later? The shorter the distance
between the flat and the laugh, the healthier the body, the keener
the mind, the stronger the spirit."

Laugh quickly. Laugh heartily. Laugh often. Sure, it's good for your
body, mind and spirit ... but mostly, it's just plain fun.
__________

Up a Tree

As you know from my posts, I'm going to be a grandmother pretty soon. Most people my age have grandchildren who are graduating from high school and college and getting married, but I married late and was in my mid to late thirties when I had my children. My life was wonderful before children and even more wonderful after, so I can't imagine what being a grandmother is like. From what everyone says, there is nothing like it.

In thinking about this baby who is going to make her appearance in about seven weeks, I've been going through baby pictures and pictures of the children when they were small. This is one of my favorites.

When we built our house in 1976, I was expecting my daughter. We had wanted to find property that had trees. A friend of ours who was dabbling in real estate, found a double lot in the city that had never been built on. In fact, it had been kept a bit like a park. When we actually built the house, we had to remove some trees. A landscape company traded work with us for some of the areca palms that were on the property.

However, in the front of the lot, there was a big cedar tree, which we definitely did not remove. It has provided shade for our house. I'm sure over the years it has helped save on our electric bill. It also was a fun place for the children to climb (not too high up) and a great place for me to get some good pictures of them. 

Alberto's Aftermath

Well, the most we received from tropical storm Alberto was quite a bit of rain and some strong wind. As I said in a previous post, our area seems to escape the wrath of the storms. I would say that we’re blessed, but then, what about the people who are hit? It’s always hard to know how to pray when a storm is on its way. You don’t want it to hit you, but that leaves all the other people.

During the night there was quite a bit of wind. This morning I walked out into the back yard and saw probably 100 mangoes lying on the ground. They are still green, but I think they will ripen. They have little yellow dots on them. I’m going to box some up and send them to a friend in New York. We worked together in Haiti, and she loved them there.

In Haiti, during the season that mangoes and avocadoes were ripe and plentiful, when people would come to the clinic with ulcers or sores of any kind, it was noted that the sores healed so much more quickly. The good vitamins in both of those fruits aided in the healing process.

The mango is in the same family as poison ivy and cashew nuts. One day my husband picked up several from the yard to take to the lady next door, and his arm broke out in a rash. He had laid them against his arm to carry them. He stopped at the dermatologist’s office to see if he could take a look at his rash. John said, “Don, you have poison ivy.” Don said, “But I havne’t been in poison ivy.” But he had handled the mangoes.

Now, what to do with all these mangoes. They are native to India, and I know green ones are used to make chutney. I guess I’ll have to do a search for some recipes.

If you’ve never eaten a mango, try one sometime. They are, to me, one of the most delicious fruits that exist. I looked up some information about them, and they have just about everything you need to be healthy. Read this

The fruits, bark and seeds of mango plants have been scientifically shown to possess a range of health-giving properties.
Properties
Mango fruits can help to prevent colon cancer, especially in cases where there is a lack of fibre in the diet. The fruits also contain a compound called mangiferin, which has several medicinal attributes. It is particularly useful in promoting the action of the heart and excretion of urine, calming inflammation, treating diabetes and as an antioxidant. Fruits also contain the chemicals gallic acid and quercetine, which give protection against viruses.
Chemical compounds in extracts from the bark of mango trees have been shown to protect against diarrhoea. The powdered seeds also have antimicrobial activity. Safety
The only toxic parts of the mango plant are various substances that are found in the skin of the fruit and the sap of the trunk. Mango is in the same family as poison ivy (Anacardiacaeae) and, like many other species in this family, can cause allergic reactions in sensitive people. Contact with the skin of the fruit can irritate the skin, and it may be toxic if eaten.
I found this information here,

Tropical depression Alberto

 
As I came out of the grocery store this evening and looked in the western sky, I was taken by the beauty of the sky, but also watched the clouds. If Alberto follows his path, we will be receiving lots of rain by Tuesday morning, if not earlier. Hopefully, that's all that it will be.

Our area of the west coast of Florida has been spared from major hits. In fact, I have read and heard that the Indians used to come to this area for shelter when storms were coming.

I must confess I get a knot in my stomach when these depressions form, wondering which way they will blow. The weathermen are usually pretty much on the money when it comes to predicting. They have such sophisticated equipment these days.

Penn State has an outstanding meterology department. Several of the meterologists in the Tampa Bay area are Penn State grads. When my son first went to Penn State, he lived in the material science and engineering interest dorm. The meteorology majors all lived there. He had one roommate that drove him nuts. All he wanted to do was watch the weather channel. Also, that dorm had the only working balconies...during storms the students were out on them watching the weather, while everyone else took cover. 

A blog about Whitney

I referred to a blog about Laura VanRyn the other day. This is one of the two young ladies in the accident in Indiana. Whitney, who was thought to be Laura, is convalescing now in Michigan. You can read about her recovery here.

This story is such a testimony of God's sustaining grace.

Jack the Cat

Attention all bears! Stay out of Jack the Cat's yard. One unfortunate bear entered the yard and got chased up a tree. When he came down, Jack proceeded to chase him up another. Beware of Jack!

Rock-a-by, Baby

 
Twenty-seven years ago this was the scene at our house as our son came home to live with us. Pretty soon my son will have a picture like this one...one of him holding his new daughter. I can hardly wait! 

Kitty Cat Positions

After I had been blogging for a short time, I went around the world reading blogs of many different authors. I soon came across Melange, a blog of wonderful photography and prose. Anytime I visit there, I come away with a smile on my face as I read about the family cats (all seven of them), look at a ladybug on a leaf with her lunch, or read about the daughter.

Recently when I read about one of the cats, I was reminded of this book.

I bought this book several years ago, after reading a copy that a friend had. I loaned mine to a friend, and I think she thought that I had given it to her because I never saw it again. This field guide to kitty sightings has a map of the world in it with all the places where cats have been sighted. Of course, the whole world is colored in.

Each drawing of a cat has an appropriate title, along with the scientific name. When I read about Miss Scarlett and her yoga, I was reminded of this particular page in the book.

Looking through the book I was reminded of Mr. Rhett, another of the Siamese who resides with Miss Scarlett. His mom wrote that he keeps her feet warm by getting all comfy on top of them. His sighting is in the book as well.


I did eventually get another copy of the book by going to Amazon.com. It is no longer in print, but I was able to buy a used copy of it. I won't loan it out again.

A note from Ben's wife

Good Monday morning. Several of you have commented on Ben's progress. Here is the latest update from his wife, Liza.

Well, God is up to his usual prayer answering, and we're very thankful for it. When we learned that Ben would be able to do outpatient rehab starting this week after our LAST hospital visit (yea!), we were very happy. It will be a more rigorous routine for him, and allow more intensive therapy than he was getting through the home health therapists (who have all been excellent). He will be going to the outpatient rehab at the same hospital that has been treating his cancer, so not only are we familiar with the place, but it is very close by.

But the biggest prayer request I have had lately is that we would be able to come into contact with a hand specialist there who could really do wonders with Ben's right hand which is still not functional, even though he has regained some movement. When they called to set up his evaluation, I learned the occupational therapist he will be working with is certified in hands and was described as the best person for this job. So, one more big prayer answered by a big God. Please continue praying with us for Ben's healing, and especially that his therapy would yield fantastic results! He has two more treatments left, and we will be finished on June 12th--Lord willing!

Incredible faith

Yesterday and today I have been reading the blog of Laura VanRyn, one of the young women who was in the tragic accident in Indiana, that took the life a staff member and students from Taylor University.

As you have read in the news, there was a mixup in identity of the two young women. The parents of the dead girl were caring for the survivor, thinking that it was their daughter.

They say in their blog that, as time went on, and she began to come out of the coma, that they began to wonder if this was truly their daughter. It is just amazing to read...of the faith of these two families in this time of grief and confusion that has come into their lives.

Bummer

I just came from the retina specialist's office. In 1999, I had quite a large hemorrhage in my right eye, which impaired my vision. Wet macular degeneration they call it. I was really bummed when that happened. My daughter was just graduating from college; in fact, the weekend that we went for her graduation, I had another bleed. The first time that it happened it was so large that he couldn't really tell exactly where it was originating and to laser it would take my vision. It finally began to dry up, and then came the second one on the graduation weekend. That time he was able to laser it.

I've been seeing him every six months since then, relying on my left eye for good vision. Last year, he began to see some changes and had me start coming every four months. I went today, and after taking some fancy pictures found three bleeds in my left eye (the good eye). So I got zapped in those three places. Fortunately, so far, it hasn't impaired my vision. Thank the Lord.

way back in '99, he also told me I have dry macular degeneration. I told him I wasn't' old enough for that. He looked at my birthday and said, yes, that's so...but you have it. And they call it "age related."

When I took the trip to Nashville on the bus with all Those senior citizens, there was the cutest little lady on the trip. She used a walker when she was off the bus, but on the bus, she held on to the seats and shuffled like a penguin. We were sitting at a table in a restaurant, talking about driving and this and that. Someone asked her if she drove. She said, "Oh no, I have macular degeneration. At least I'll never go totally blind." She said all this with a smile on her face. I hope I can keep a smile like that when the day comes.

I bought a new car in November 2005. Although my other car was going on 10 years old, I really didn't need a new one, but I rationalized that the day would come when I would not be able to drive, so I wanted to enjoy a new one while I could still see!
And I am enjoying it, and I hope that I can for a long time.

Talllinn Estonia

Cats are everywhere, aren't they?
In July of 2003 I had the opportunity to visit Tallinn Estonia with a group from my church here in Bradenton. Our church has established a friendship relationship with a church there, anda group of us went to see if we could be an encouragement to them and to see what we could learn from them.
Tallinn has a walled city which dates back to the 1100's, and that became our field trip many of the afternoons when we were free to roam. Walking down the cobbled streets one day, what did I see but this lovely cat, sleeping the afternoon away.


the church steeple that you see is that of St. Olaf's Church. This church was once used as a lookout by the Russians. Also at one time, all of the various denominations were made to worship there together. One thinks that the communists were trying to destroy the church, but it only made it stronger. Today it is a Baptist church.

Tallinn is an interesting city. It used to be economical to go there, but it is becoming quite popular as a tourist attraction. Cruise ships dock there, and people go ashore for the day...so up have gone the prices...not quite the bargain that it once was. It is interesting to be in a country that has known freedom since 1991. 

Seeds of Hope

I'm concluding this e-mail from Ben's wife today. If you've been reading my blog for a while know about Ben, the young man with testicular cancer. He is the son of a pastor in my hometown, and he is the same age as my daughter, Sarah. Many of you have commented whenever I have posted about him.

The week after Ben's first hospitalization, before we knew about the cancer, we were all at home, trying to keep him from being too active, so as not to aggravate the hemorrhage. So Ben got the idea to have his dad plant a little vegetable garden that he could watch grow during his recovery time at home. Little did we know what awaited us!!!

However, despite our extended time at the hospital, and our preoccupation with other things (like his daily therapy visits, chemo treatments, etc.) those little plants took root, and are starting to bear fruit. In the same way, during this time of great adversity, I have seen God bring about fruit in our own lives. We have learned to value each moment we spend together. We have learned the importance of hope, hard work, and courage. And we have all learned how to serve each other and work together. What a blessing! I would not have chosen to learn these things this way, but one of the joys of knowing God is that He brings good out of all circumstances, and so we praise him.

Thanks for keeping up with us. Your many cards, letters, emails, prayers, visits, meals, financial gifts, acts of service such as lawn mowing, car washing, and painting, etc. have been greatly appreciated. Ben made it upstairs today for the first time to check his own email, and as he responded to someone's email he said, "I'm gonna get better!" And I believe that he is. So thanks for the part each of you has played in his recovery so far. And please continue to pray with us for complete healing!

It Came

Yes, the card that I knew was coming arrived in the mail yesterday...my very own Medicare card...effective September 1.

B-r-r-r! It was cold

I spent the last week in the upper peninsula of Michigan at Cedar Camp, not far from the little town of Cedarville. I flew to Detroit, and then one of the camp workers picked me up and took me to the camp...quite a long drive from one end of the state to the other. It was dark when we got there, and then for the next two days it was gloomy and rainy. I had been warned by friends here in town and on the blog to take warm clothes, and I'm glad that I did.

On Tuesday, I think it was, the sun shone, and I finally saw the beauty that everyone had spoken of. I've never seen so many Christmas trees anywhere actually growing before. There were daffodils still in bloom, so I paused to look at them each time I passed, enjoying them over and over.

The camp that I went to is owned by Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship. The week that I was there, there were students from University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana campus, and University of Wisconsin-Whitewater. The students there made up the leadership teams of the chapters. Their directors were there with them as they studied and made plans for the coming school year.

During the morning and afternoon, the students studied various subjects, ranging from an overview of the Bible to racial reconciliation. In the evenings there was a speaker who Taught from I Samuel 15-17...the stories of Saul and David, and David and Goliath.

I think the thing that I enjoyed the most was the singing in the evening group. Throughout the weeks of camp, the same music is taught or sung, so that when chapters meet together, they're all on the same page as far as the music is concerned. A couple of the songs were in Spanish. The nice thing about Spanish is that even if you don't understand it, you can sing it because it's all phonetic.

My favorite song that was sung is a hymn that was written in the last few year entitled, "In Christ Alone."

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Till on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Brought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand

Words by Stuart Townend

As we sang the third and fourth verses singing of His resurrection and power, there was cheering in our voices and clapping of our hands in praise to Him in Whose power we stand. It was awesome.

Going to Michigan

I'm leaving tomorrow for the upper peninsula of Michigan to volunteer for a week at an Inter-Varsity camp, so I'll be away from my computer.

I'll tell you all about it when I come back.

Ugly and Unwanted

It seems that sometimes when I post that it is about something sad, and I don't intend it to be that way.

A group of six ladies met together about 10 years ago to celebrate a 50th birthday. At that breakfast it was decided that once a month we would meet for breakfast, and for the last ten years, we have done just that. The makeup of the group has changed just a bit; we've never grown in number, (by choice) and we have never announced ourselves to those outside our little circle.

The great thing about the group is that we have never gossiped about anyone (that's unusual for six ladies, isn't it). Rather our group has been a support group to each other; sometimes we meet and don't say much. Sometimes we meet and laugh a lot; at one point, we didn't dare frequent the same restaurant twice in a row for fear that they wouldn't let us in. Sometimes we meet and weep with each other.

This past week was one of weeping for me. One of the friends in our group announced that she has been diagnosed with breast cancer. Boo-hiss! The sage of the group, whom we sometimes fondly call our "mother superior" said to her, "You know what you're dealing with. You have a diagnosis. If it were there and nothing being done, it would be so much worse." But I cried. The year that I retired from teaching I was 57. One of my dearest friends died that same week. She had been diagnosed with colon cancer the previous October and lived almost nine months. Her sister had died of cancer, and she had done everything "right." She exercised, watched her diet, had those cysts in her breasts checked twice a year, and she died anyway. I could never quite figure that one out. She was 57. A former pastor's wife in our church had surgery colon cancer when she was nearly 90, and the surgeon told her to come see him in a year. I say that I don't question God, but I couldn't figure out why she lived, and my friend didn't. And I told her so. I knew her well enough to know that I could say that to her. She's still living...I think she was 93 this month.

The title of this post is "Ugly and Unwanted." The lady whose birthday we celebrated originally, the one that caused us to begin meeting monthly worked with a support group at our church that hopes to help people who have issues with alcohol or other dependencies. One morning at breakfast, she made the statement that it seemed that all the friends she gathered around her were either ugly, or unwanted. We looked at each other and laughed...the name became ours.

Tucker and Samson

Samson and Tucker are my two grandkittens. They own Sarah, my daughter.


Samon came to live with her about a year ago. While shopping for pet food for Tucker at Petsmart, she met Samson. The Humane Society takes cats there for people to meet, and Samson chose Sarah. He's a licker. We like to call them his kitty kisses. He is a very sweet natured cat.

Tucker came to live with Sarah the year that she lived in Mount Olive North Carolina. After Sarah graduated from Mount Olive College, she came home for a year, but she really wanted to live andwork in North Carolina, so she went back to the bustling metropolis of Mount Olive (the home of Mount Olive Pickles.) She worked at a bank while she was there. One of her co-workers fed a cat who came up to her house. guess what! The cat was pregnant. Sarah made up her mind then and there that she was going to have a kitten. She asked her landlady and promised that she would spray for fleas and everything whenever she moved, and the landlady gave her permission.


Tucker was the only black kitten in the litter. Sarah held him from the day he was born, and he is truly her
cat, or perhaps I should say she is his human.

The cats get along famously. Tucker is the older cat and was there first, but Samson has fit right in; in fact, he seems to be the dominant cat in the house. Tucker loves to sleep on Sarah. Samson will lick and kiss, but he isn't a lap cat...not yet anyway.

Whenever I need a kitty fix, I go see them. I am gong to be traveling a bit, so I don't want to get another one or two just yet...but the time is coming!!

Cats are Wonderful Friends

Gentle eyes that see so much
Paws that have the quiet touch,
Purrs to signal "all is well,"
and shomw more love than words could tell.
Graceful movements touched with pride,
a calming presence by our side
A friendship that takes time to grow
Small wonder why we love them so
Author Unknown

 

Rain

 
It seemed a bit dark this morning when I woke up. I looked at my clock, and I hadn't overslept...then I heard a noise that I hadn't heard for quite some time. The sound of rain gently falling to the earth. What a welcome sight and sound.

Yesterday there was a brush fire up near Tampa that closed I-75 for several hours. People from three subdivisions had to evacuate their homes. People took hours instead of minutes to get to their homes from work.

this is the first time that we've had brush fires this close to us in our area. A few years ago there were several fires to the south which did a lot of damage, and now there is the one that has been burning on the east coast.

A few years ago when we had such a drought, I went to Orlando with a friend to a conference, and we could smell the fires from the northern part of the state. The manager of the motel said that people were calling wondering if the state was on fire.

Everyone today has been thankful for the rain that has come today, and we may be more on Thursday. We need lots right now to quench the thirst of the parched earth.

The rain is raining all around.
It falls on field and trees.
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea.

Robert Louis Stevenson

 

Vickie

 
Meet Vickie. Vickie sings in our Sweet Adelines chorus. I have never spent much time with anyone who is blind, so I'm learning a lot from her. She rode home from competition with my friend and me. We had never been to her apartment before, and we had a little bit of trouble finding it. When we finally turned into the correct street, Vickie said, "Oh, that's it. I recognize the bump."

When we got to her apartment, she told us that she and Jimmy don't use the lights. (Jimmy is blind, as well.) So she walked into a perfectly dark apartment. What is the first thing that you do when you enter your house? You turn on the lights, don't you.

Vickie is gifted with perfect pitch. On the ride home, we had all four singing parts in the car, so we sang some. She got us started out in the right key, and when we finished one song, she said that we had stayed on pitch. Now, that is an accomplishment.

At our annual dinner last week at the Olive Garden, Vickie sang for us "Ave Maria" with her sweet, clear voice. Bev, in the background, accompanied her on the violin. No one said very much when she finished...just a hush.

By the way, Ben made it to his wife's graduation on Saturday and felt well enough to go to church on Sunday. Back in the hospital today for his third round of chemo. 

More about Ben

I've been rather quiet this week...sort of beat since last week's trip to Kansas City and our chorus competition. on Wednesday at Christian Women's Club, our speaker had the time mixed up, so I had to speak. That took a bit of starch out of me too. The rest of the time I've been reading blogs and trying to clean up my office...not an easy task.

I was just reading an update on Ben, and I thought I would let you know how he's doing. He has been home over a week. The doctors felt that his spirits would be better at home. The physical therapist has been working with him, helping him with his walking, and as you can see in the photo, he is walking with the help on only one person. In one update, his mom wrote that he had taken over 100 steps in the house.

His mother also wrote that when he had the surgery for the brain tumor, that his sense of humor would remain intact, since that was so much a part of his personality. One day she was on the porch reading, when she heard laughing in the house. as the therapist left, he made the comment that Ben certainly has a sense of humor...one prayer answered.

Ben has said that his goal is to be back at work in 10 weeks. He enters the hospital again on Monday for his third round of chemo.

His wife, Liza, graduates from University of South Carolina on Saturday. Her desire is for Ben to be able to attend, so keep them in your prayers that this might indeed happen.

Wa-hoo! We did it!

Well, we didn't quite win first place, but our scores improved by about 70 points. We are now a "B" chorus, instead of a "C". We placed second in the med-size choruses and sixth overall, which in our region 9, is very good. The chorus has worked long and hard to achieve. We were feeling very good about ourselves when the competition was over.

The picture at the top of the post is from our show this year. We were "The Sweethearts of the Shimmering Shawls." Our shows are always fun and draw lots of folks. The chorus sings; we have a couple of quartets from within the group, and then we always have a guest quartet come to entertain. This year we had the Humdingers. They work at one of the main attractions in the Orlando area and go by a different name there.

Singing barbershop is lots of fun. As you probably know, or may not know, all the singing is done a cappella. There are four parts: tenor, lead, baritone, and bass. The lead sings the second line of notes in the treble clef, the tenor, the top line. Baritone is the top line in the bass clef, and bass, obviously, is the bottom line of notes. All the music is memorized and is usually choreographed.

Right now, I'm singing baritone. Our part has been described by one as the chameleon of the chorus. We fit it wherever needed to fill the chord. (That's probably not a correct description, but I'm not really a musician.) I may switch to tenor, since I've become part of a quartet, and tenor is the part that was missing.

I sang in Sweet Adelines when my children were in elementary school; then I got sick, and the kids moved on to junior high, and my time was taken up with them. After my husband died (I promise not to talk about that too much) one of the ladies asked me how I was doing, and I made the comment that my days were pretty much as they had been before, but evenings got long. She said to me, "I know just the place for you." My response was that I had been thinking about that very thing, so I made the decision to join again. That has probably been on the best things I've done since losing Don.

I'll have to say, though, that learning the music after an absence of ten years is not as easy as it was back then...but I guess it is good exercise for the brain.

If you ever have the chance to hear a barbershop group sing, by all means, go. You'll be glad you did.

April 30

April 30 is a date that will forever be embedded in my memory. Four years ago, on this date, my life as I knew it changed. My husband left for work that morning, and about 3:45 in the afternoon, my best friend and pastor's wife, came with the news that Don had been killed in an accident. I felt like I had been hit with a ton of bricks. I shared about Don in my post on Valentine's Day. I won't repeat all the details here.

One's life is changed forever after an incident like that. A new normal must be found. Choices must be made. One choice that I made is that I will be happy and not wallow in misery...not that I don't miss my husband terribly. I hurt for my two young adult children who no longer have their father.

God is my sustainer; He brings peace and joy when the plans that I have are suddenly turned upside down.

This week when I was traveling I picked up a book by Ann Lamott in the airport bookstore. I had heard her name mentioned before but had never picked up one of her books to read. She wrote this in one of her chapters.

I have survived so much loss, as all of us have by our forties--my parents, dear friends, my pets. Rubble is the ground on which our deepest friendships are built. If you haven't already, you will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and you never completely get over the loss of a deeply beloved person. But this is also good news. The person lives forever, in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through, and you learn to dance with the banged-up heart. You dance to the absurdities of life; you dance to the minuet of old friendships.

Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott

Don's practice every morning was to shave and then have his devotions. Part of that was spent reading Our Daily Bread The Scripture passage for that day was Romans 8:28, a verse that is often quoted glibly during hard times. The Message says it like this,

"That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives for God is worked into something good."

Thank you, Father.

Off to Kansas City

I'm leaving early in the morning to fly to Kansas City for a three day conference connected with Stonecroft. Stonecroft is the parent name of Christian Women's Clubs.

I'll get to hear Carol Kent. Does anyone know her? She has quite a story. I'll share more when I return.

On the weekend, our Sweet Adelines chorus will be in competition with other choruses in our region. We feel like we're singing so much better than last year...Here's hoping we can get the "most improved chorus" award.

Till later...

Does Jesus Care?

I was reminded of this song at church today. One of the men in our congregation is battling cancer. He had cancer in his tongue a couple of years ago. After treatments, he was free for awhile, and now it has recurred. He has a tumor in his neck that has wound its way around a vein, so the doctors were not able to do surgery on it. They have an appointment on Tuesday with the oncologist to discuss his options.

While I was talking to his wife, I said that I have not dealt with cancer. My mother did die from it, but by the time she was diagnosed, she was gone in three weeks. All the things we had observed in her seemed to be signs of old age. In talking with Erma, I mentioned that even though I had never dealt with cancer, I had had my own tragedy in my life, losing my husband in an accident.

I reminded myself that while our tragedies are great, nothing compares to the pain that He bore on the cross for us...

Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth or song,
As the burdens press, and the cares distress
And the way grows weary and long?

Refrain

Oh yes, He cares, I know He cares,
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights dreary,
I know my Savior cares.

Does Jesus care when my way is dark
With a nameless dread and fear?
As the daylight fades into deep night shades,
Does He care enough to be near?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed
To resist some temptation strong;
When for my deep grief there is no relief,
Though my tears flow all the night long?

Refrain

Does Jesus care when I’ve said “goodbye”
To the dearest on earth to me,
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks,
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?

Refrain

What comfort to know that nothing happens to us without the Father.

What's the weather like where you live?

Each of us makes his own weather,
determines the color of the skies in the emotional universe which he inhabits. -- Bishop Fulton J. Sheen

This quote was in an e-mail that I received this morning. I thought it quite an appropriate thought. I have read blogs from people who live in the far north who are just now beginning to see signs of spring and sunshine. They are rejoicing.

In Florida, winter days are often just "another day in paradise." We wear sweaters, maybe, and we almost always have the sun shining. I remember my children going north for college and commenting about rarely seeing the sun during winter. My best friend and her husband moved to the Chicago area in October, and she told me that she went out and bought brighter lightbulbs for the lamps in her house to make things brighter.

We are affected by our surroundings, aren't we. Temperatures are beginning to climb here, and hurricane season will start soon. This brings a certain unease.

But this certainly isn't the weather that Bishop Sheen speaks of. Our circumstances might seem dismal at times, but we can make the choice to have sunshine in our days, contentment in our hearts.

When I lived in Haiti, a favorite song of the Christians was "My Father Planned it All." It says that even when the way seems dreary, and there are dark shadows, we can know that wherever He leads us, our Father planned it all. I love it in the Creole language. It says Papa-m ranje-l konsa. God is lovingly referred to as Papa in Creole. I love the intimacy that that words expresses.

Where Did I Park?

 

When I was in Nashville, as I stated before, I stayed at the Opryland Hotel, which is next to the Grand old Opry, which is next to the Opry Mills Outlet Mall. At the end of the mall in the parking lot, I noticed this sign.

I used to watch elderly people come out of the grocery store, or out of Wal-Mart, and stand looking, looking for their cars. I used to think, "Poor dears."

Now it's not so funny. I have become one of them...not always remembering exactly where I left my car...especially if I didn't take careful notice of what aisle I had parked my car in. 

Christ Is Risen! Hallelujah!

What a glorious day to sing of His resurrection and hear the message that is unique to Christianity. No other religion in the world can claim a living Savior! When I was at university, every Sunday morning our church service took place on campus. Below is one of the first hymns I remember learning there, and it is probably the one that has stayed in my mind the most over these years.

Arise, my soul, arise; shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears:
Before the throne my surety stands,
Before the throne my surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above, for me to intercede;
His all redeeming love, His precious blood, to plead:
His blood atoned for all our race,
His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears; received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers; they strongly plead for me:
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Nor let that ransomed sinner die!”

The Father hears Him pray, His dear anointed One;
He cannot turn away, the presence of His Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood,
His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear:
With confidence I now draw nigh,
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.

These words were written by Charles Wesley.

Thank you, Lord, that my name is written on Your hand. I am born of God, and I can draw near to You with confidence...all because of the death, burial, and resurrection of my Lord.

Happy Birthday, David

 

On Easter Sunday, 1979, David came into our lives. What an Easter gift! Easter was April 15th that year. My friend, Sara, who worked as an accountant, was working that day. I called her from the hospital to let her know that David had been born. Her comment was, "Well, he may be the Easter bunny this year, but from now on he'll be known as form 1040. Isn't that some reminder of one's birthday...the day that income taxes are due.

1979 was known as "the year of the child" because the children born that year would turn 21 in the year 2000, and her it is 2006. Twenty-seven years have passed, and now my son is a young man, who is married and will soon become a father himself.

Happy birthday, David. I love you. 

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows.” Isaiah 53:3

Man of Sorrows! what a name
For the Son of God, Who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
“Full atonement!” can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Lifted up was He to die;
“It is finished!” was His cry;
Now in Heav’n exalted high.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew His song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Words and Music by Philip P. Bliss

Words cannot express the feeling in my heart on this day.

Inside Opryland

As I mentioned before, I went to Nashville for Mark Lowry's Senior Trip. While in Nashville, we stayed at the Opryland Hotel. We were told that this facility is the largest hotel and convention center under one roof in the world. That is, a facility without a casino. Some of the hotels in Las Vegas are larger.
Everything is first class. There are nearly 2900 guest rooms there. We stayed in the Magnolia section, which is the oldest section of the hotel, having been built in 1977. The Delta section was added, then the Cascades. All of these photos were taken in the Cascades section. All of the guest rooms in the Cascades look out onto these gardens.

As one moves from the Cascades to the Delta section there are more gardens. Much of it is similar to what one might see in Florida in places like Jungle Gardens in Sarasota. In the Delta section there are shops and a river that contains water from rivers from around the world. A boat ride is available for those who care to ride around.

A return trip is a definite for me. Southern hospitality abounds. People take time to talk to you. The only down part of our time was the fact that tornadoes struck around us in some of the communities; homes were destroyed, and lives were lost.

It was a good time for getting away and relaxing for a few days, enjoying spring and fellowship with other folks.

Captain Speece

This is an update on Ben, the young man who has Stage 3 testicular cancer. His mother has taken a leave of absence from her school here in Florida to go help care for him. Ben's wife, Liza, is student teaching, and Marilyn is there to try to ease some of the stress on her.

His mom wrote, Ben got an MRI today [4/11] about 3:30 using galleon because he had an allergic reaction to the other dye. We don't know the results yet, but he did not have a reaction to it. The next chemo they have put off until tomorrow and the port the doctor has postponed until Wed.

Part of what I was reading in my devotions this morning was II Chron. 20:4, 12, 15, 17, & 20. What an encouragement to share with Ben and Liza and for myself! "We have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you...For the battle is not yours, but God's Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you...Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

The doctor gave us answers to yesterday's concerns. Mostly time would take care of the sore arm and swollen leg. The nurse quoted scripture when she saw the slogans on the wall. Two friends visited and prayed with him and 7 others came. He has cards taped on the wall where he can see them.

[A friend] put up a new poster, "They call me Captain Speece because my progress is astonomical." It came from an e-mail that Liza had sent to friends referring to when Ben moved his right arm for the first time on Sat. Liza said, "That is great, Ben!" Ben replied, "That's astronomical!"

The OT therapist was in today. She worked with him on the bed for 2 days because he needed 2 units of blood yesterday. Today, however, Ben stood and his blood pressure didn't drop. He was exhausted when it was done. Then the speech therapist arrived. Ben has to think hard to produce words. There is a lot of retraining of his brain to be done. She showed him pictures to identify, had him produce words in a category, name days, months, generate words in a sentence, etc. The therapist said Ben showed improvement from last week.

Continue to remember Ben and his family.

Senior trip

 
Last week was a fun time. I had shared with some that I was going to board a bus in Bradenton and go to Nashville for Mark Lowry's Senior Trip...not the type of senior trip that one thinks of. Everyone on this trip had to be at least 50 or married to someone over 50.

A good time was had by all. We stayed in the Opryland Hotel...such a hardship...just kidding. That was an experience in itself. The complex is the largest hotel and conference center under roof in the world that doesn't have a casino. Hotels in Vegas are larger, but they come with casinos.

One can easily get lost wandering up and down halls. After our first meeting that evening, I told my roommate that I was going to walk around and get my bearings. After I did that, it was much easier.

If you're a fan of the Gaither Homecoming gatherings, you are familiar with Mark Lowry. He was for a time a member of the Gaither Vocal Band. After a while, he went out on his own. He is quite a comedian, singer, and song writer. He is the author of "Mary, Did You Know?" a Christmas song that is no doubt on its way to becoming a classic.

Chonda Pierce was there on Thursday evening to help host the show. What a character! She is a comedienne, as well. If you've never had the chance to hear her and you hear of her being in the area, by all means, go. She's so funny, but then she brings her comedy act to thoughts of the Lord...outstanding. She helps us Christians laugh at ourselves.

Many other notables were there also. I'll share about them in another post.

The picture in this post was taken in the Delta section of the hotel. More later... 

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

I just got back from a trip to Nashville with a group of senior citizens. What fun! A group called the Breakfast Club took a trip to Nashville. We stayed at the Opryland Hotel and enjoyed a 2-day program with Mark Lowry. If you're familiar with the Gaithers, then you know Mark. Laughs were to be found everywhere, and sometimes a tear of two. I'll check back in later with some more information.

I stayed up quite a while last night getting caught up with everyone's blog that I frequent...I suffered a bit of withdrawal while gone.

A Song for Sunday

When I thought about an entry for today, my mind was still on Ben and his family. I worshiped this morning where his dad is pastor. It is also the church that I grew up in and was a member of until 1992 when our family went to a new church. I have many close ties there still.

Ben's dad wasn't back from North Carolina today; he'll be back tomorrow. His mom was, however. Her dad died yesterday after a short illness. His memorial service is tomorrow. And then Ben's mom will be taking a leave from her classroom for the rest of the year to go back up and help be a support to her daughter-in-law, who is student teaching.

One of the songs we sang this morning was "Great is Thy Faithfulness." Such a wonderful hymn. We sang that at my husband's memorial service four years ago. I was going to put the words here, but when I went to cyberhymal.org, there was a copyright sign after the title with the warning not to cut and paste it without permission...so I didn't. But it is such a wonderful hymn...speaking of God's faithfulness through good time and bad. It is probably my favorite hymn.

We also sang "I Can Only Imagine," another great contemporary song that has been sung a lot lately. And then we shared the Lord's supper. That was just where I was supposed to be today.

On Tuesday I'm going with a group of senior citizens to Nashville. I hate to admit that I'm that age. But the thought of getting on a bus and let someone else do all the planning and worrying sort of pleases me, so I'm going to give it a try.

Update on Ben

The other day I wrote about Ben. His dad wrote that he is alert andate a little of both his lunch and dinner yesterday. He doesn't open his eyes much but responds to everything he is asked. He also has retained his sense of humor.

He has lost a lot of weight and is fortunate that he is going into this with a little extra weight on his frame.

RSP had mentioned that Indiana U. has the expert on this kind of cancer, and Ben's oncologist is consulting with him on Ben's case. The survival rate for patients with this type of cancer at the advanced stage foloiwng the chemotherapy is 48%.

His dad said they are very grateful for the outpouring ofprayers and concern on Ben's behalf. "Our trust is in the Lord Who gave Himself for us." Please continue to remember Ben.

Just dropping by to say hi

My son called tonight. I mentioned in another post that he and his wife are expecting their first child, making me a grandmother for the first time. He called and said, "Mom, we're having a baby."

"Yes," I said. "The baby is healthy," he said. "Yes," I said. He made me ask what the sex is. It's a GIRL. Everyone in the family had been thinking boy. We are rejoicing that this is a healthy baby girl...and then there are my friends who were told by the doctor that their baby was a girl. They went home and told their son that he was getting a brother, and when they went home from the hospital, they took Amy home,''

Some sad news in our family of friends here. A pastor's 29 year old son is in the hospital in North Carolina with stage three testicular cancer. He was at work two weeks ago and started having bad headaches and his speech became garbled. His coworker took him to the hospital, they did a scan and found swelling in the brain, kept him a few days on medication, and sent him home to finish the course of medicine.

On Sunday his side began to hurt and he went back to the hospital. They did surgery on Monday to remove a tumor from the brain. They were not able to remove all of it. He has tumors in his lungs and his liver.

A course of chemotherapy was begun today. Pray for Ben when you think of him, and for his family. His father just buried his own mother a month ago, and his mom's father is not doing well. Ben's parents were missionaries with Wycliffe for many years, and they buried a baby over there.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain



My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

Refrain

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

Hymnals don't have all these verses in the books. I found this at cyberhymnal.org.

McKechnie Field

This picture is especially for the "hermit" who lives in Tennessee. She has mentioned how she loves baseball and that her mother had lived here in Bradenton. The field is in the same location that it has always been. I remember as a little girl when the Boston Braves had their spring training here, then they were the Milwaukee Braves.

My mother worked in a drugstore in downtown Bradenton and served Eddie Matthews and Warren Spahn. Warren Spahn lived here for many years.

The Pittsburgh Pirates came here after the Braves. They had some good years when they had the Killer B's...Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, Sid Bream, Jay Bell...there was one more, but I can't remember his name. He played third base...and then there was Andy VanSlyke in center field. Jimmy Leyland was the coach. After a while, things went south. Jimmy Leyland left. He said he felt like he was simply providing players for the teams that paid the players more.

Now he's back coaching the Tigers. I hope he does well.

Right now, Florida is leading Georgetown in the Sweet 16. Will they make it to the Elite 8? Another 11 minutes will tell the tale.

Nine lives?

No, this post is not about a cat. This past year I've been the chair of the local Christian Women's Club here in Bradenton. It is my responsibility to find speakers for our meeting. In February, we had a lady come speak to us. Her topic was "Struck by Lightning, Then by Love." She shared with us how, early in her marriage in Minnesota, she and her family went camping. She told us that was not her idea of a vacation...sleeping in a tent and cooking over a fire.

On this one particular trip, she and her husband were struck by lightning. She described the horrors of it all. They found themselves in a hospital room, lying beside each other, wondering when it would all end. They both survived, and she tells her story of how God became very real to her. She did not become a Christian just then, but later on, God's love won her heart.

This lady is now 82 years old. A designer of fashion jewelry, she enjoys being a special feature person at Christian Women's Club, and so we thought we would ask her to come back in December to talk to us about her jewelry.

I called her home Sunday afternoon and left a message for her. The next day her granddaughter called me and said that she had fallen out of bed and broken her neck, and that she probably would not be able to speak to us in December. The fall, surely by a miracle, did not paralyze her.

This morning my phone rang, and Wilma was on the phone. "Don't count me out for December," she said. I hope to be better by August. I didn't ask her how she happened to fall out of bed, but she shared with me how she ended up face down on the floor. She lives alone with her Maltese, and she said that she reached for the phone in the dark to dial her daughter. Her daughter came along with the ambulance.

As she entered Wilma's room, Wilma thought to herself, "What gown do I have on?" I guess she was wondering if she was presentable enough for the ambulance guys. Her daughter assured her that the dog had made sure she was covered up.

She went to the hospital where they x-rayed her, read them while they were wet, and told her she was o.k. She went home with her daughter. No sooner had she gotten home than they called her to come back in an ambulance. She had what is described as a "hangman's break." She should have been dead, or paralyzed. She is neither.

She's planning now to go to a rehab facility to recover. I was telling my daughter about her. She's a true example of how one's outlook and attitude help in one's recovery. If you're a praying person, pray for her. She has a tremendous speaking ministry, and I don't think she's done yet.

Two down, seven to go?

Happy Spring

I have so enjoyed visiting different blogs today and the last few days and seeing all the lovely pictures of spring flowers. I can only imagine how it must be to see new life again after a winter of dreariness and no leaves on the trees. Living in Florida, we do have spring, but it's much more subtle than having the tulips and daffodils and all the other pretty flowers.

The oak trees shed their leaves in mid-winter without ever having changed colors. The new growth comes out quickly. Everyone this year has suffered terribly from allergies because of the blossoms. I, who never have reacted to them, thought I was dying this year. I was sure that the cough was going to carry me off. Thankfully, it only lasted a little while.

We get spoiled here having flowers year round. I don't think our green is ever as pretty as the spring green I've seen elsewhere, that is unless you use lots of water and fertilizer. My grass isn't green because I won't pay the city for the water to water it, and the well that we had I think has long since gone dry.

I remember visiting my daughter for the 21st birthday in North Carolina in January. The kids from Florida always said that winters were so dreary in the north...North Carolina qualifies for north in this instance. Dreary is not the word. When I flew into Raleigh, I remember looking out at the beautiful subdivisions with all the dead trees. The next day as were driving around, I realized that the trees were supposed to look that way.

When I flew back home, got into my car, and drove across the Sunshine skyway with the sun gleaming on the water, I realized once again why all the snowbirds leave their homes in the north for the winter and come south.

Our March here has been incredible...just another day in paradise. I don't think any baseball games have been rained out.

In another week or so, the snowbirds will be returning to their homes in the north, and then in the summer, many Floridians will head for the hills in North Carolina and Georgia to escape the heat of summer...it isn't exactly paradise then.

Grasshoppers, anyone?

 

I love this picture. I have some friends who are missionaries in Cameroon, Africa. When they first went to the field, I asked Ellen if she would like some Pampered Chef products to take along. One of the items selected was the batter bowl, which comes with a lid. At our shows we tout all the benefits of this bowl...it truly is very useful and versatile. However, this is one use that I don't think anyone in the home office thought of.

When Thom and Ellen came to visit, they told me how much Gladys, the lady who works in their home, enjoyed all the products. In a later letter, there were several photos.

It started out with the young Cameroonians out in the field gathering grasshoppers, the next picture is this one of Gladys, holding the catch in the batter bowl...then the grasshoppers frying in the pan...finally being eaten by Thom.

It reminds me of the old song, "Where He leads me, I will follow, What He feeds me, I will swallow." 

My Mother

 

Have you ever read the book, Strawberry Girl? It was written by the author Lois Lenski, who wrote books about children from different regions of the country. I asked my children for a copy of it for a Christmas present this year. When they started looking, the looked for an original copy, but it was out of reach, and so they gave me a paperback edition, which happens to be a sixtieth anniversary edition. I just began reading it last night. I'm sure that I read it as a girl.

The setting is Florida. The characters are families who are making a living, or trying to, off the sandy soil. I remember my mother speaking of having to pick strawberries as a girl to help the family make a living. In her later years, she would still go to the fields to pick them after the farmers opened them up to the public. One day she said how much she disliked the task...it isn't easy, you know, with the strawberries growing on the low plants.

My mother was raised in north Florida. She told me that her father's family came from South Carolina, as did the characters in this book. Mother was the second of six children. At one time in her life, she told me that her daddy worked in a logging camp in Scanlon, and they actually lived in a box car. She never did describe to me how it was, and I have a hard time imagining it. Was it literally a box, with no windows? Was it somehow made to be livable? It was when she was twelve that she said she contracted malaria. I can only imagine how hard that might have been.

I remember her teling me how her mother washed the kids' hair with kerosene to get rid of the lice that they had gotten from those "dirty children" who lived not too far away.

I don't know when they moved to town, but Mother graduated from high school in 1930 from the high school in Starke. Some of you know Starke as that town on 301 that you have to drive through when you're going from I-10 to I-75. Although she was next to the oldest of her siblings, she was the only one to graduate from high school.

At some point, she moved from Starke to Lacoochee to live with her older sister, and that is where she met my daddy, who lived in Trilby. He worked at the Cummer Cypress Lumber Mill. They met and married in 1933, right during the depression. Mother didn't have wedding rings until she had been married ten years. In one of my first posts, I shared how they left Lacoochee and moved to Bradenton.

Mother was a very hard worker. She worked in a drug store in Bradenton from 1947 to 1964 when my father died from a heart attack. Montgomery Ward opened a big, new store, and she managed their coffee shop for a while.

She was 50 when my daddy died. I had graduated from college and had gone to Cincinnati to work, and I did not realize what a hard time my mother was having. Both of her parents died and my father died all within a thirteen month period. She continued at her work in order to keep going, but as I said, I didn't know just how hard it was for her.

She was always there for me, whenever I needed anything. I guess that's what mothers are for, isn't it. When Don and I built our house, she gave us money for all the window treatments. When Sarah was born, she took care of her for her first two years of life. We paid her Social Security so that we could claim the child care on our income tax, and when she had finished taking care of her, she gave us the money back that we had given to her.

She's been gone for twelve years. She had a hard life, but a good life, and she never complained... not that I remember anyway. Time has a way of erasing anything unpleasant, doesn't it, and that's a good thing.


"Look in those eyes. Listen to tht dear voice. Notice the feeling of even a single touch that is bestowed upon you by that gentle hand! Make much of it while yet you have that most precious of all gifts. Read the unfathomable love of those eyes, the anxiety of that tone and look, however slight is your pain. In after life you may have friends, fonds, dears, but never you will have again the inexpressible love and gentleness lavished upon you which mone but a mother bestows." - Macaulay 

Pensive

 

Someone commented that they liked the name Color. When she was a kitten, her colors were so vibrant and so many, that seemed a logical name for her. After her experience with the paint and her venture into the outside world, we didn't have to worry too much about her straying very far again.

It's amazing how an animal becomes so much a part of one's life. Ourdaughter graduated and went off to college, and whenever she came home, Color was glad to see her. The same with David. He wasn't as permissive with her as the rest of us. However, Color loved to rub her face against his big feet. On occasion, she would take a sniff of his sneakers and walk away with her mouth open, as if to say, "Boy, those shoes stink."

After I retired from the school board and was home during the day, she said, "Now I've got you where I want you." My lap became her resting place. I loved the excuse of not being able to get up.

On April 30, 2002, the day that my husband went off to work and never came home again was, if you've read my other blogs, the most difficult day of my life. When you open the paper and read of the accident that took your husband's life, it is surreal. So often we read articles like that and think, "Oh, those poor people."
And then it's you.

Our house was filled with people that afternoon and evening. Color didn't know what to think. She had never been fond of a lot of people. Family was o.k., but other than that, she'd rather not.

After everyone had left that evening, I went upstairs to do some e-mailing, and Color was lying at the to of the stairs. I finished and went to my room, and she came down and lay near the door. A mournful cry began. I got up to see what was wrong, and she was lying there twitching, her eyes crossed, her tongue hanging out. I thought for sure that she was dying, and I think I said out loud, "Go ahead and die tonight. At least it won't hurt so bad after everything that has happened today." I checked on her throughout the night, touched her, and each time she looked up at me. About five in the morning, I got up and took a shower. I hadn't slept anyway. When I looked for her, she wasn't there. She had gone downstairs.

She got better, and then six months to the day later, she had another spell like the one on April 30. The vet said she felt sure that she had hepatic encephalopathy. A couple of years previous, we had done an ultrasound, and found that her liver was filled with cysts. The ultrasound is another story in itself.

The vet gave me some medicine for her, she got better and had no other spells, until finally last fall, she breathed her last.

After everyone else had gone, she had remained, and now she's gone...a wonderful friend and companion. 

Lady in Red

Color came to live at our house when she was about seven weeks old in 1987. We had ventured into the pet business earlier in the year with a white kitten, who unfortunately had feline leukemia. The vet had immunized her, but we decided later that her mother must have been infected, because her owner said she had gone off and never came home.

After what the vet said would be a safe amount of time to introduce another cat into our home, we looked in the newspaper for a kitten needing a home. As a result, Color came to live with us and be a part of our family. She fell in love with my husband. Every day when she heard him come in through the garage, she would sit at the door and wait for him to come in and make over her.

Often at the dinner table, she would jump up on a chair and sit with her nose sniffing around to see if there might be something that she would like.

One evening when she was three or four, I left the house to go for parent conferences at our kids' school. When I went out the front door, she scooted out in front of me. We looked for her; I went on to the school, This was on a Tuesday night. We looked everywhere, called the SPCA and Humane Society, but she didn't turn up.

Every morning when my husband was praying with the children before taking them to school, he would pray for Color and could hardly talk. On Friday morning, I had come down stairs before Don, and I heard a cat in the back yard by the pool. I went out, and there she was...ready to come in. There was pink paint on her back...no telling where that came from.

The children had the day off from school, and so they cared for her. When I called them to see how she was doing, they said that her fur was coming out when she licked it. After I got home from school, we took her to the vet, and he shaved off the painted fur and gave her a shot against infection.

After that episode, I didn't worry about her too much if she got out. She knew the way home. However, we made very sure that she was nowhere near us when we opened the door.

More to follow....

Mourning

Sometime ago, I came across the blog of a young pastor in Norwood, Ohio. My eyes lit up because when I graduated from college, I went to Norwood and taught for two years in the Norwood Baptist Christian School. Even though it has been almost forty years since I was there, I still felt a closeness to the friends that I made there.

Chad was living there, seeking to make a difference in the city. He was also a great Steelers fan, and when Pittsburgh was playing Cincinnati in football this year, he caught all kinds of grief from his friends. On of his entries, he had a picture of the Terrible Towel, and the link to the store where they could be bought. I ordered a couple for friends here in Florida.

Not long after the Super Bowl (Yea! Steelers!) he posted that he didn't feel too well and that he probably needed to go to the doctor. Much to my shock, two days ago, I visited his blog, and in the comment section, someone had posted that Chad was in critical condition in ICU with bleeding in his lungs. He then developed a blood clot in his leg.

This morning at 7:00 he passed into the presence of the Lord at the age of 34. What a wonderful promise, "Absent from the body, present with the Lord." But what a hole left for his wife and children. Pray for his wife, Renee, and his two children Colon and Aiden.

A better view

 

I'm learning how to do this stuff...fun...and I should be doing other things right now. Oh well... 

My grandfather and great-grandmother

I was browsing blogs the other day and found one whose author was scanning old photos and sharing some of them on her posts. That has been my intention for some time...to preserve some of those old photos that continue to age.

When my son, David, was in junior high and high school, he wanted to play the guitar, and I never encouraged that. I apologized to him later. He finally bought a guitar and basically taught himself to play, and he is used that gift in his campus ministry and church.

Once while he was home, I showed him this picture of his great-grandfather. He's the one with the banjo. I don't know when the picture was taken, but I imagine it was in Georgia becasue that's where my daddy was born. I think that David was pleased to know that he perhaps shared some of the talent from his grandfather's side of the family.

The woman in the black dress is my great-grandmother. I know that because I recognize the black dress from another photo. I don't know about the others. I wish I knew the date also that the picture was made. 

Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjacks

March is the month of spring training in Florida (and Arizona.) Here in Florida it's known as the Grapefruit League. In February, pitchers and catchers come to the state and start their practice, and then during March, the teams practice playing. All of the hopefuls who are invited have high numbers on their uniforms.

Today at the Pirates/Twins game, I only recognized three or four names. The Pirates won, by the way. I believe they've only lost one game so far, but then they've only played since March 1. The Tampa Bay Devil Rays are on a roll. They've even won four games (I think.) As I'm writing this and looking for some stats, I see that Kirby Puckett has died after suffering a stroke yesterday.

Spring training games are very relaxed. You don't have an announcer trying to be smart and making comments...they just announce the player, and we watch. Last week, or the last week in February, was a picture of one of the pitcher's dogs doing his business on the infield. You don't see that every day. You do see the players running sprints near the outfield wall, and you can hear the crack of the bat as men work on their batting skills.

Today was my day to eat a foot-long hot dog. I shall eat no more during the season, since I just signed up with Weight Watchers online. I relished every bite. No salted, roasted peanuts though. The salt is a no-no.

I have a friend from church who goes with me to the games. This is her last rite of spring before she returns to Indiana for the summer.

In a month, they're gone. The young ones are hoping to make the roster of the team, as are some of the experienced players. The field becomes quiet until another spring.

More about David

As I said earlier, David went to Penn State and majored in engineering. As he continued in his studies and worked alongside men who had done engineering all their lives, he asked them about their work. To most of them, their job was a paycheck. Now a paycheck is an important thing, but with David's involvement with a group called Christians in Action on campus, he began to realize that God had a different calling on his life.

He continued his engineering, but after he graduated, he became a campus minister with the Coalition for Christian Outreach, based in Pittsburgh. He worked for three years in Indiana PA at the university there. As his contract ran out, he realized that he indeed did want to be involved in education and applied for graduate school at the University of Virginia.

During his time as campus minister, he got married to a wonderful woman named Sabrina. They headed off last fall to Waynesboro VA, not far from Charlottesville, and as they counted the cost of starting graduate work as an out-of-state student, they realized the cost would put them deep in debt. So for this year, they have been working to establish residency, with the hope of starting next year.

A lot has happened...the main thing is that a baby is on the way, and that has changed things again. David's substitute teaching, and he hopes to get a permanent position for fall, and hopefully, to start taking a course.

Things have not gone as he had planned, and I know that there has been some discouragement, but I remind him that God is never late in His plans...just some detours sometimes...and besides that, I'm going to be a GRANDMOTHER!

My Grandkittens

I love to go to the blogs that have pictures of cats. My, how many cat lovers there are in the blogosphere. I lost my feline friend of 18 years last fall. She was with us through thick and thin. My daughter, Sarah, however, has two cats named Tucker and Samson. Whenever I need a kitty fix, I go to her house.

Tucker came to live with her when he was about six weeks old. She had held him from the day he was born, and my they have such a wonderful bond. He is all black, except for a little bit of white here and there. He had his fourth birthday in May.

One day Sarah said, "Mom, I think I'm going to get another cat." She had been going to Petsmart, and a cat there chose her to be his mom. The Humane Society places cats there in hopes of adopting them out. Every time she would go, Samson would reach out his paw to her. He chose her insteach of her choosing him.

The boys get along famously. Samson has never been declawed, and when Sarah brought him home, Tucker showed him the scratching post, and he began using that, and his claws don't come out at all unless he's chasing one of his many mice around the house.

Tucker is long and lean; Samson is short and stocky. They keep each other company while Mom is at work. Such great friends!!

David

My last post was about my daughter, Sarah. Today I’d like to post about my son, David. This is one of my favorite photos of him. The picture was taken at DisneyWorld on Tom Sawyer’s Island when David was about three.

David was born on Easter Sunday, 1979. That day also happened to be April 15 that year. My dear friend, Sara, for whom my daughter is named, happened to be at work that day. She was an accountant and was doing last minute taxes for other people and perhaps her own. David was born just before 11 that morning, and after I got back to the room, I called her at work to tell her that he had been born. Her response, “We’ll call him the Easter bunny this year, but after that, he’ll just be ‘Form 1040.’” What a day for a birthday! At least, we’re patriotic. Sarah’s birthday was Inauguration Day, and David’s income tax day…What a reminder! (

When David was 10 months old, he became very ill with HFlu. After his recovery, I was in my dermatologist’s office, and when I told him about David’s illness, his comment was, “I would have like to have seen that. We lose babies with that.” I knew that he was ill, but I didn’t realize just how ill.

David is very tall, and even in kindergarten, he towered over his friends. He became a very good student in school, and as he got into junior high and high school, he began to play basketball. He had played baseball in Little League. David was not the most athletic on the basketball team, but in his senior year, he was named a scholar-athlete above the other young men.

When it came time for university, he said to his father and me, “I want to go to a big school when I graduate, and I don’t want to go to school in Florida.” There were 55 in his graduating class. Because my children were my mother’s only two grandchildren, she provided for their college education with her gifts and investments over the years.

So off to Penn State David went. He went with the idea of majoring in engineering, which he did, but about halfway through his college career, he really became convicted that his work should be more people oriented. After graduating, he spent three years in Indiana, Pennsylvania at IUP, doing campus ministry.

He now is in Waynesboro, Virginia, establishing residency before entering UVA’s graduate school of education. More about David in another post….