I posted a picture of McKala and her band of "babysat" kids and creatures today and it didn't spawn much reaction. Here's the thing: she's already become the person I wasn't until my 30's. As I've had heart to heart talks with neighbors and friends recently, she's been the one getting a meal ready for that person and their family. I don't mean just any meal - good, rich, soul food. She's 14 and is practicing something that we're losing in this culture: fundamental homestyle care for the less fortunate and the broken. Is it a gift of hospitality she was born with? Maybe, but "all" the children have a heart for it in some form. She, though, has blossomed this summer, spending weeks of time volunteering at camp, and hours in the kitchen.
It's easy for me to see what the kids don't do up to par, but I would be remiss to not express my elation that they care for someone besides themselves. Compassion is welling up in them, not just from the things they've suffered but from the maturity that brings thankful insight. I don't ever want them to be the ones eager to get their picture in the paper for a good deed or to do volunteer work so as to better a college application. I don't want them to think everything worth doing involves money or a foot up. She has her struggles just like us all. When she's exhausted, she's "done" and can be very frank about it with that carrying voice which can be startling. Also, pride, the distortion that takes the good out of anything, has to be constantly pushed aside ...her own agendy set aside as well, because as much as she may seem a "Suzy Homemaker", she's very much a social butterfly and WAS born with a need for being out and about. I will say ...my answer is often "yes" when she has been presented with a reasonable invitation for fun.
Clubs, associations, and groups get some things done, but how many of us step in closer? Today, as she was already dogsitting and babysitting, she prepared enough supper to feed a small army to ease the burden of my friend who lost her father in a tragic accident, not only without complaint, but also with excitement for the details of extra touches. As Christians, we hope our children become "good samaritans", but are they practicing it already ...like everything else they aspire to be in adulthood?
She knows what's right and what's wrong because the Bible's words are not questioned here. She knows when a child needs prayer, a hand up, or boundaries. She's knows when an adult needs to be heard, has strayed, or is grieving. She knows that she's nothing without the grace of a living, everpresent God. I couldn't ask for thoughts more pleasing to rock me to sleep tonight. God took the mess of a girl I was and made this unorthodox family of Harpers for His glory.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Today at Our House
It was busy as always when a party is in the works, Melody's 11th. We had 3 extra sets of hands on deck. I had gone out to inspect the pond area and decided it had to have some algae treatment, which needed to be done last week (so has gone the whole summer). McKala and Regan got in the inflatable boat with wisk-like branches to "assist" in the disbursement. Rusty, the beagle, who has become an avid swimmer, headed toward the blue cloud so I worried about his fur. Regan and I laughed at the thought of too much treatment giving all the party-goers a blue tinge, "smurf-like" as Regan said, and that it could be the new click for the first of school next week.
I went on with my straightening and within minutes, Tootsie, who patrols the border of the pond for frogs, became all worked up, ears pricked. Before I knew what was happening, she hurled a snake into the air. It wasn't what I'd expect to see. It had a tan color, was thick and a couple of feet long. I let out a shrill noise like a bottle rocket, hair standing on end, and I hate to admit, peed on myself. I had just been over there in the muck barefooted. It managed its way back in the water. At that point, I finally noticed the girls in their panic to get to the opposite side using the sticks feverishly for oars. McKala is deathly afraid of snakes and I was in hysterics watching them make short work with their pathetic tools.
In my panic, I still had enough curiosity to remain nearby and winced when I saw it swimming a good foot under the water, then came up for air with its orange head. Michael , Jr. had heard his name at such a pitch that he came quickly with weapon in hand and we thought killed it. Afterall, we were having a pond party in a few hours.
As we were inspecting Tootsie for bites, Michelle drove up to the pond to bring Jaycie, laughing at what a bunch of rednecks we looked like. We hadn't given any thought that we all still had on pajama pants and looked like we were just hanging out midday that way. We had to tell the whole story of course. As we did, it resurfaced and round 2 began. At that point, I proclaimed that these "hillbillies" needed a "CEment pond"! Michael sat and watched diligently 'til we just had to leave for practice.
Leaving 6 excited girls to decorate, we took the small ones with us and got some last minute things for the party, returning just in time for it and for Michael, Jr. to fire up the grill. We were once again surrounded by some of our favorite, fun friends and many of their parents. I'll have you know that no alcohol was necessary for the pleasant flow of things. As Virginia, Michelle, and I threw some more fruit dip and slaw together, Lou manned the grill and Christy photographed everything and everybody. She would come back periodically, leaning on the counter so she could hear the Sirius radio behind me. I finally ascertained that she was listening to the International Bluegrass Music Association award nominations and that they, one at the grill and one taking pictures, were indeed nominated and more than once. She let out a yell and ran to tell him, but hung out like "regular" folks the rest of the night. Good heavens, they just had their names called out on Sirius Radio ...cool. You wouldn't know it. We went shopping for groceries the night before and she pointed out how storebrand chips and hotdogs would be fine for the party, never mentioning the program that would follow the night after.
All in all, we had a "swell" time: kids, water (I warned them all about that snake but they braved it anyway), kittens, dogs, balloons, strawberries and otherwise good food, importantly "good condiments" as Lou said, and gorgeous cake (which Mike planned out and ordered with Melody, along with decorations, but didn't get to appreciate because this time work won him out, although he has a horrendous toothache). I was glad for the time alone with her to shop and eat yesterday because as I sat afterwards to "decompress" tonight, I realized I hardly spoke with her today.
I went on with my straightening and within minutes, Tootsie, who patrols the border of the pond for frogs, became all worked up, ears pricked. Before I knew what was happening, she hurled a snake into the air. It wasn't what I'd expect to see. It had a tan color, was thick and a couple of feet long. I let out a shrill noise like a bottle rocket, hair standing on end, and I hate to admit, peed on myself. I had just been over there in the muck barefooted. It managed its way back in the water. At that point, I finally noticed the girls in their panic to get to the opposite side using the sticks feverishly for oars. McKala is deathly afraid of snakes and I was in hysterics watching them make short work with their pathetic tools.
In my panic, I still had enough curiosity to remain nearby and winced when I saw it swimming a good foot under the water, then came up for air with its orange head. Michael , Jr. had heard his name at such a pitch that he came quickly with weapon in hand and we thought killed it. Afterall, we were having a pond party in a few hours.
As we were inspecting Tootsie for bites, Michelle drove up to the pond to bring Jaycie, laughing at what a bunch of rednecks we looked like. We hadn't given any thought that we all still had on pajama pants and looked like we were just hanging out midday that way. We had to tell the whole story of course. As we did, it resurfaced and round 2 began. At that point, I proclaimed that these "hillbillies" needed a "CEment pond"! Michael sat and watched diligently 'til we just had to leave for practice.
Leaving 6 excited girls to decorate, we took the small ones with us and got some last minute things for the party, returning just in time for it and for Michael, Jr. to fire up the grill. We were once again surrounded by some of our favorite, fun friends and many of their parents. I'll have you know that no alcohol was necessary for the pleasant flow of things. As Virginia, Michelle, and I threw some more fruit dip and slaw together, Lou manned the grill and Christy photographed everything and everybody. She would come back periodically, leaning on the counter so she could hear the Sirius radio behind me. I finally ascertained that she was listening to the International Bluegrass Music Association award nominations and that they, one at the grill and one taking pictures, were indeed nominated and more than once. She let out a yell and ran to tell him, but hung out like "regular" folks the rest of the night. Good heavens, they just had their names called out on Sirius Radio ...cool. You wouldn't know it. We went shopping for groceries the night before and she pointed out how storebrand chips and hotdogs would be fine for the party, never mentioning the program that would follow the night after.
All in all, we had a "swell" time: kids, water (I warned them all about that snake but they braved it anyway), kittens, dogs, balloons, strawberries and otherwise good food, importantly "good condiments" as Lou said, and gorgeous cake (which Mike planned out and ordered with Melody, along with decorations, but didn't get to appreciate because this time work won him out, although he has a horrendous toothache). I was glad for the time alone with her to shop and eat yesterday because as I sat afterwards to "decompress" tonight, I realized I hardly spoke with her today.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
February Revisited
Today started with distress and although my arguing points were valid, I love how God gets me alone (and I was alone, since the big kids were eating lunch with a gracious family and the little ones were riding with Mike to pick up a load) and He causes me to introspect. Being out in the warm sun with a breeze always makes it easier. I've become hypersensitive to Mike's remarks, so he finally expressed to me that I'm not perfect either. What it insinuated to me was that I think I am. On the contrary, I'm always looking for "me" and what's the next right thing to do. I tend to always foul that up one way or another. I want his approval more than anything, but when I don't approve of myself, I'll never find it from anyone else. I wondered why I was experiencing all this today and suddenly it drew itself forward, presenting verbally. By the water, I spoke it: that "I" do it to the kids, especially when I'm feeling desperately behind. They finish one thing and instead of showing my pleasure, my mind often strays to the next task. I don't give them the one thing I, myself, crave the most: approval. I think we "slavedrivers" are worried others will become complacent/content. Problem is we make people hopeless - that they'll never, ever be good enough. A person left in that state can't find peace.
Oddly, the first note I jotted down today was about overindulging in public ..........I had to step out just now to view the rain with the sun shining through it and the thunder rolling loudly nearby, the best of both worlds, confusing the eye a little with the vivid colors. Okay, back to public display, partying. We've dabbled in some the last year. It's good to know we can "hang" in there with the best of them. What's that really mean the next morning? - nothing at all. If anyone has to have the anonymity of a crowd to get away with doing things we wouldn't otherwise AND if we do unmentionable things in public to draw attention to ourselves, then we've strayed somewhere.
I had bought instructional DVD's for chair dancing last year because I understood the importance of "taking care of things at home". I threw them away and anything to do with it in a rant of agony last spring. I want to "want" to be pleasing again. I've struggled my whole married life to separate sex from shame. Shame happens when we injure our conscience by fornicating before we're married. Too ...playfulness is lost when we wear a veil of shame. Who says sex has a sultry mask? Pure unadulterated fun is what it's meant to be; I'm just sure of that. Now, the problem for us is that although our hearts are falling into place, our bodies (and mouths sometimes) are dividing us. Mike is in torment from one illness or another all the time. I am not in obedience in restoring myself to health. When he's hurting, he's grumpy. When I lack confidence, I'm grumpy. We reopen old wounds. These are obviously not the ingredients for passion.
Back to "public display" for a moment - another very legitimate reason for ideal weight is that it cements my case for modest behaviour instead of making me appear like a jealous woman who is incapable of performing the same entertainment. Simply put, most of us refuse. If we see it as repulsive, then we've just fallen for Satan's lie ...or we've been injured by the disregard of our mate. "It"/the dance/the eroticism is perfection 'til we involve thoughts of someone other than our parter in marriage. Someone from our past, from our fantasies, from the movies, from the clubs, from anywhere but right here & right now distort the beauty and purity of the act.
Back to home for a minute - by the way, I'll tell "the trim crowd" that reading on is much a replay from some of my writing in February, but we all have things that hinder us: pride, fear, smoking, lust, laziness, doubt, unforgiveness ... I do think fit people deserve accolades for their discipline ...without being googled by perverts. Soooo, my thoughts on home ...when we get home, it seems reasonable to "let it all hang out"/throw on the sweats and put the ponytail up. I think most of us are just exhausted and too busy to care until we see our husband's attention to another. I'm afraid I'm guilty, not so much of not caring, but of not doing enough to make null my excuses of being in between sizes, short on money, out of time to dress "cuter" at home. Then there's the (call it what you will because I know it's a copout ...but I know my faults), "it's easier to stay fat" since Mike and I haven't rebonded because I know what I'm like when my "sexyometer" is revving up. I'm admitting it's some kind of pride sin, but it's all good when Mike and I are on the same page, and all bad when I'm disoriented and secretly tempted to appreciate other attentions I might get. My second copout is that I know with no reservation that I won't regain the feminine near-perfection of a youthful pre-childbirth body. The adversary reminds me of this continually and weakens my resolve to make necessary changes today instead of tomorrow. I need disconnections in my mind and simply strive for healthiness for the confidence of living in obedience, much less - for the example.
What man wouldn't want to have a gentle smile and delicious aromas meet him at the door as it opens to a tidy house and thankful children? I stay home and am still not pulling it off. His irregular schedule with trucking and the ever changing activities of the children keep me off kilter. I'm usually not one to pray too specifically but I'm requesting God's allowance for Mike a way out of that truck. He's unwell. Full healing needs uninterrupted sleep, homecooked meals, outdoor work in the fresh air, recovery of our marriage bed, and time with the children before they're all grown.
The thing about "staying home" these days is that it's really hard to find someone to submit your future to who isn't a pervert or a sluggard, whether a churchgoer or not. Not having a career to default to is a scary idea, I know. The Bible says that in the last days women and children will rule. I always thought that seemed so out of place, but there is hardly a man raised up these days whom is worthy to follow. Actually, this last statement brings it full circle. Parents aren't interested in homelife enough to focus on anything much but a child's financial future. We as a society are failing miserably. We overlook our young ones' work ethic, moral fortitude, basic cleanliness, practical skills ...sometimes never even considering what kind of spouse or parent we're creating in our children, much less what kind of citizen. Please, don't think the school or church is doing it for you.
In this economy, the obvious draw from homelife is that even if a parent wants to put more time toward it, the debt and inability to sell an unneccesarily large home form a trap. The question we have to ask ourselves is: "Is starting over to save the character of our children (and our marriages) worth the loss of the kind of frills we're accustomed to and/or overcoming the fear of the unseen future? "Depending" on someone can lead to demise, BUT the beautiful thing is that it sews a stronger cord into love. The need for and the gratefulness for care/financial support are irreplaceable together.
I'll be "home" this week, but not really. Every night will involve football, which I love but necessitates an hour's drive. I hope to enlist Miranda's help, so I can get in at least one "walk and talk" session with Christy. (I'm glad to share her with Miranda who walks with her on Tuesdays and Thursdays to get back into shape, while volleyball practice goes on.) Monday will be a list/call/clean day. Tuesday will be Mary-Hope's mother's funeral, preceded by some grocery and birthday shopping for Melody. Wednesday is Melody's birthday and party. Thursday will involve paying bills and getting Mike home from his trip up north and to the dentist for what is a terribly painful, most likely abscessed tooth. I know, hard to believe, another ailment for Mike. Friday, Miranda and Melody will leave for a festival in Gettysburg with the Reids ...so nice of them. Thankfully, Saturday holds a get together at Jami and Shawn's house. In the middle of all this, we'll make time to find calves for Michael and McKala and, I surely hope, some playing and praying together.
"Why in the world tell you my schedule? We all have one." (We also all have to be careful not to let the hecticness of life suck out the sweetness of it.) By all accounts, this is one of those weeks when I could just procrastinate away exercise and eating well. Next week will probably set the same stage; then I'll find myself next February weighing and feeling the same. So, pray for me that I don't settle for less than my best. How hard can this be? - eat less, move more ...period. Old habits die hard though and I'm tempted most to eat when I'm losing energy late in the afternoon, usually tired from missing sleep. Caffeine isn't an option because it causes me restless sleep. I need to overcome this for all the reasons I've detailed. I even want Michael, Jr. to see me as my "attractive me" so that everything I say to him about girls is soaked in and not blown off as words of a chunky, sullen female basher. I hate to be legalistic about food or anything for that matter, but without law, there would be no order in the universe. I'm feeling pretty lame right now, but I'll be waiting for your prayers to spawn some inspiration in me come morning ...thanks in advance.
Oddly, the first note I jotted down today was about overindulging in public ..........I had to step out just now to view the rain with the sun shining through it and the thunder rolling loudly nearby, the best of both worlds, confusing the eye a little with the vivid colors. Okay, back to public display, partying. We've dabbled in some the last year. It's good to know we can "hang" in there with the best of them. What's that really mean the next morning? - nothing at all. If anyone has to have the anonymity of a crowd to get away with doing things we wouldn't otherwise AND if we do unmentionable things in public to draw attention to ourselves, then we've strayed somewhere.
I had bought instructional DVD's for chair dancing last year because I understood the importance of "taking care of things at home". I threw them away and anything to do with it in a rant of agony last spring. I want to "want" to be pleasing again. I've struggled my whole married life to separate sex from shame. Shame happens when we injure our conscience by fornicating before we're married. Too ...playfulness is lost when we wear a veil of shame. Who says sex has a sultry mask? Pure unadulterated fun is what it's meant to be; I'm just sure of that. Now, the problem for us is that although our hearts are falling into place, our bodies (and mouths sometimes) are dividing us. Mike is in torment from one illness or another all the time. I am not in obedience in restoring myself to health. When he's hurting, he's grumpy. When I lack confidence, I'm grumpy. We reopen old wounds. These are obviously not the ingredients for passion.
Back to "public display" for a moment - another very legitimate reason for ideal weight is that it cements my case for modest behaviour instead of making me appear like a jealous woman who is incapable of performing the same entertainment. Simply put, most of us refuse. If we see it as repulsive, then we've just fallen for Satan's lie ...or we've been injured by the disregard of our mate. "It"/the dance/the eroticism is perfection 'til we involve thoughts of someone other than our parter in marriage. Someone from our past, from our fantasies, from the movies, from the clubs, from anywhere but right here & right now distort the beauty and purity of the act.
Back to home for a minute - by the way, I'll tell "the trim crowd" that reading on is much a replay from some of my writing in February, but we all have things that hinder us: pride, fear, smoking, lust, laziness, doubt, unforgiveness ... I do think fit people deserve accolades for their discipline ...without being googled by perverts. Soooo, my thoughts on home ...when we get home, it seems reasonable to "let it all hang out"/throw on the sweats and put the ponytail up. I think most of us are just exhausted and too busy to care until we see our husband's attention to another. I'm afraid I'm guilty, not so much of not caring, but of not doing enough to make null my excuses of being in between sizes, short on money, out of time to dress "cuter" at home. Then there's the (call it what you will because I know it's a copout ...but I know my faults), "it's easier to stay fat" since Mike and I haven't rebonded because I know what I'm like when my "sexyometer" is revving up. I'm admitting it's some kind of pride sin, but it's all good when Mike and I are on the same page, and all bad when I'm disoriented and secretly tempted to appreciate other attentions I might get. My second copout is that I know with no reservation that I won't regain the feminine near-perfection of a youthful pre-childbirth body. The adversary reminds me of this continually and weakens my resolve to make necessary changes today instead of tomorrow. I need disconnections in my mind and simply strive for healthiness for the confidence of living in obedience, much less - for the example.
What man wouldn't want to have a gentle smile and delicious aromas meet him at the door as it opens to a tidy house and thankful children? I stay home and am still not pulling it off. His irregular schedule with trucking and the ever changing activities of the children keep me off kilter. I'm usually not one to pray too specifically but I'm requesting God's allowance for Mike a way out of that truck. He's unwell. Full healing needs uninterrupted sleep, homecooked meals, outdoor work in the fresh air, recovery of our marriage bed, and time with the children before they're all grown.
The thing about "staying home" these days is that it's really hard to find someone to submit your future to who isn't a pervert or a sluggard, whether a churchgoer or not. Not having a career to default to is a scary idea, I know. The Bible says that in the last days women and children will rule. I always thought that seemed so out of place, but there is hardly a man raised up these days whom is worthy to follow. Actually, this last statement brings it full circle. Parents aren't interested in homelife enough to focus on anything much but a child's financial future. We as a society are failing miserably. We overlook our young ones' work ethic, moral fortitude, basic cleanliness, practical skills ...sometimes never even considering what kind of spouse or parent we're creating in our children, much less what kind of citizen. Please, don't think the school or church is doing it for you.
In this economy, the obvious draw from homelife is that even if a parent wants to put more time toward it, the debt and inability to sell an unneccesarily large home form a trap. The question we have to ask ourselves is: "Is starting over to save the character of our children (and our marriages) worth the loss of the kind of frills we're accustomed to and/or overcoming the fear of the unseen future? "Depending" on someone can lead to demise, BUT the beautiful thing is that it sews a stronger cord into love. The need for and the gratefulness for care/financial support are irreplaceable together.
I'll be "home" this week, but not really. Every night will involve football, which I love but necessitates an hour's drive. I hope to enlist Miranda's help, so I can get in at least one "walk and talk" session with Christy. (I'm glad to share her with Miranda who walks with her on Tuesdays and Thursdays to get back into shape, while volleyball practice goes on.) Monday will be a list/call/clean day. Tuesday will be Mary-Hope's mother's funeral, preceded by some grocery and birthday shopping for Melody. Wednesday is Melody's birthday and party. Thursday will involve paying bills and getting Mike home from his trip up north and to the dentist for what is a terribly painful, most likely abscessed tooth. I know, hard to believe, another ailment for Mike. Friday, Miranda and Melody will leave for a festival in Gettysburg with the Reids ...so nice of them. Thankfully, Saturday holds a get together at Jami and Shawn's house. In the middle of all this, we'll make time to find calves for Michael and McKala and, I surely hope, some playing and praying together.
"Why in the world tell you my schedule? We all have one." (We also all have to be careful not to let the hecticness of life suck out the sweetness of it.) By all accounts, this is one of those weeks when I could just procrastinate away exercise and eating well. Next week will probably set the same stage; then I'll find myself next February weighing and feeling the same. So, pray for me that I don't settle for less than my best. How hard can this be? - eat less, move more ...period. Old habits die hard though and I'm tempted most to eat when I'm losing energy late in the afternoon, usually tired from missing sleep. Caffeine isn't an option because it causes me restless sleep. I need to overcome this for all the reasons I've detailed. I even want Michael, Jr. to see me as my "attractive me" so that everything I say to him about girls is soaked in and not blown off as words of a chunky, sullen female basher. I hate to be legalistic about food or anything for that matter, but without law, there would be no order in the universe. I'm feeling pretty lame right now, but I'll be waiting for your prayers to spawn some inspiration in me come morning ...thanks in advance.
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Big 4 0
I just came in from outside and was thinking how good it is to be surrounded by animals, flowers, and children. These things might not seem necessary until we find ourselves in a funk and can't see God in the world because of all the adults who get in the way of the view. This little statement does have relevance to my turning 40, but I'll move on to the "event" of turning over these 4 decades.
I'm having a hard time concentrating on details with the "symphony of unfortunate sounds" that's happening in the living room. (Actually, I'm in awe of some of things they've accomplished with the instruments today.) We have to leave for bible school in a few minutes anyway and I've had these PJs on since yesterday, so it's gonna take a few minutes for me to convince myself to change into something uncomfortable. The "big" kids have been on so many trips this summer that the little ones deserve full attention for this week of fun. I hope we can keep the Chinese-made nonessential prizes to a minimum, though; we just got the house in reasonable order before my party ...I'll be back to you tonight.
I've returned thankfully with only visors and am ready to recall the unraveling, if you're pessimistic, or the revealing, if you're optimistic of my "surprise party". Much of it began last weekend when Mike and I had an all out screaming match over a door I slammed. (I should know now by experience how much men hate that.) I've felt for some time that he's been short with me and in my deepest of deep thoughts have entertained the fear of his alter ego's return. He sees me as nit picker, I'm sure, even though I've developed enough self control to go silent when the heat kicks up. Regardless, I took off like a bat out of Hades, if that's possible in a minivan. I drove up Brushy Mountain Road to the orchards listening to some powerful Christian songs. A sermon came on and I reached to turn it more than once, but held off long enough to hear that it was about believing and hoping the best of one's partner until proven otherwise. I parked the car and watched the sun set. I was calmed and saw my error, hormonal week or not. I drove in our drive but wasn't ready to face the "crowd", so I walked off into the volleyball court to pull weeds. Those of you who have seen it lately know it was a losing battle.
Before long, I saw Mike coming ...and fast. He hadn't seen me. He threw it in park, cars nose to nose. He surprised me with his furiousity. Pouting I had mentioned before, in reference to the whole family's reluctance for teamwork, getting a hotel room and staying a while. I had left with no shoes and no such intentions, but he didn't know that since I had also thrown my phone out the window. Across the field, he proceeded to yell out all his frustrations and by doing so, made it clear how much I had hurt him by my earlier provoked, snide remark about our sex life. In hindside, the very thing I criticized I am equally guilty of creating.
I had no rage left for him. It had subsided and it was right for me to stand there and take it, although I got riled up enough to defend against some accusations. Regardless, he let it fly that he that very day had shopped, spending hundreds of dollars, on a party for me. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I'd known for weeks. As Michael, Jr. said, I wouldn't have been privy had I trusted him and not peeked over his shoulder as he gave his back to me checking messages. I will defend only the part that I still hold firm to and it applies to each and every one of us. Married people have no business whatsoever sending private messages (unless there's a surprise brewing) to anyone who is even close to a candidate for emotional or physical release. If you don't believe me, check back a few blogs.
So, we apologized and he went back to the house and I laid down in the cool, wet sand like some big sissy. It did feel good, though. I'm telling you there is something about the elements that bring God closer to me. It was dark and the fog was moving in. The cicadas were singing. That Beagle we'd had only a matter of 3 weeks came all the way down there and dug himself a hole right up next me. All seemed right with the world ...except the chasm that I just helped deepen ...and then, the dog started growling at something and being in the house seemed a really reasonable idea. We had another round while I was in the shower getting all that sand off, so I stayed there like a fool with the cold water running over me and gave a slight thought to how he might feel to come find me with purple lips, but that movie drama crap is not for me. It was COLD and I got out, wrapped in a blanket, and sat on the porch swing. Christy called to check on me and gave me sound advice. I felt pretty stupid after I laid out the premise of it all, but as she says, "What are friends for?"
The week was to me an unveiling, like finding a treasure - getting little details about my birthday every few hours. It was enticing and drew me back to my husband, his forethought for me even while working and battling the turmoil in his body. The day of the party, I woke with my monthly friend and an almost debilitating backache - fitting for someone who would not leave well enough alone. I was determined to start this year off by keeping my commitment to walk with Christy and to keep concentration on restoring myself to good health. When we started up that first hill, I understood what I was in for. I felt like poor old Smokey walking behind us, vigilantly guarding although his leg gives way ever so often. Those of you who have read deep into my writings are clued into what condition causes my episodes of aches and lethargy. I could be a posterchild for premarital warnings, but that's a story for another day.
After I showered and polished up, I was to ride with Christy to get her girls. She knew I was in serious discomfort so she came walking to the car with a concoction that saved the day. Now, "shine" is exactly the kind of thing a lady normally recoils to BUT this was "Apple Pie Shine", cinnamon floating, and I declare within a few minutes, I was so warm and cozy it could've been Christmas. All was right with the world again. I was just plain happy, not drunk ...happy. You did all wish me a "happy" birthday, right? It was an hour before we drove back to our house, so there is a small chance that I drank just a little much. I was most concerned about the breath I must've had because there was no hiding it....but ...I think all present will agree that I was "happy".
Walking through the door, I saw the faces that mean to most to me. I've tweaked my list of friends, so it's kinda small but it's jampacked with loyalty and goodness. I turned to the right to see a smile I haven't seen in person in 28 years, a childhood friend's. Words don't do justice to feelings drawn up out of the fabric of one's past. Most of the others were people who have welcomed me and mine into this county we've only been in 3 years. I've never had a period in my life with so many people I trust and care about and really enjoy. Mike and the kids had their smiles on, but I know they were exhausted from days of preparation. I hoped they would breathe it all in the way I was ...and I think they did, mostly because my friends are also the kind of people who are friends to our children.
The decorations in black and pink were "over the top" - streamers covering the ceiling and balloons floating everywhere. It was all just right. Jami and Shawn, Kristin and Jasmyn came to assist them in the finishing touches. He, Mike, in his pink shirt, looked relieved - that it was finally happening. He's done everything he knows to in the last year to prove his new found direction. I should walk more closely with him while he's doing so.
I don't know that I have any particular talent of "working a room". (I don't even remember the last birthday party I've had with friends gathered ...several baby showers, though!) Nonetheless, I floated around the room in something that seemed like a dance. It may or may not have had a relation to the aforementioned warm feeling. My living room was speckled with pretty tables and people I could give a part of my heart to and trust they wouldn't toss it around. I did miss Mary-Hope but quickly found out she had made an appearance but had darted out to do the work that most of us could never handle. I know there are a couple who had prior engagements and others who had legitimate things come up. I was "happy" with the group I was presented with and won't soon forget who showed me their faithfulness regardless of how busy their day was. Then, my Megan rolled in all the way from Georgia having worked that morning. That made the package complete - all my babies together ...and for me.
I talked and laughed so much that I never even blew out candles or tasted my gorgeous cake, but I was finally rounded up to open gifts. It's been 10 years since I sat with such an audience to receive presents, so I hadn't given it much thought. However, Christy had already given me her idea of what I needed. She was right on "target" (get it, Christy?). I love that Lou tried on handbags with her 'til she decided on something for me. She had listened and remembered that I had pointed out mine was worn out. That means a lot to me. Kristin had also listened to me. A few weeks prior, I'd mentioned that I was down to my last pair of Levi's and refused to buy until I was into a smaller pair, much less a bigger pair! She'd been shopping for me at Tractor Supply Co. - 'nuf said.
Mary-Hope had left a bottle of wine (which I'm sipping on right now) and one of perfume. Miranda had given a wine glass, but replaced it tonight with this one covered in "bling" and color. She had also taken the little ones shopping and got me a BAMA colored coffee cup filled with my favorites, Milky Ways, and a "cherry blossom" scented candle that Madalynn decided on after apparently "smelling them all". Megan brought me a GPS in hopes that I wouldn't end up in Tennessee next time I leave Georgia on a route I've been on dozens of times. Risa made a grand late entrance and brought me a gift of Key Lime treats that was just as personal as the other gifts. Loreilie made a big red memory album that sported a sparkly "m" on the cover. She had pulled pictures off Facebook and put them on the pages inside. It was definitely a tear jerking moment for me that she took the time away from her busy life to create it. Cindy gave me a Barnes and Noble giftcard, which makes me look forward to meandering around a bookstore very soon. More importantly, she gave me a card that said people like me are God's way of smiling at her. Even more importantly, she and most everyone else wrote personal messages in them, except Kristin BUT hers sang to me about how I shine and not ever changing that. (And her daughter, Jasmyn's, was just as kind.) Cousin Kimberly mailed a pretty one that trumped the impact of my legacy. Mary-Hope said that our friendship is a treasure that is hard to find. Christy's said that God put us together for a reason ...she's right.
Is it proper for me to divulge their innermost thoughts? I'm just sharing what being loved feels like. I don't deserve it, but I'm gonna wrap myself up in it and know that harldy anything else matters. There were other thoughtful cards and funny ones about my old age. (Virginia and Jami, you 30 yo youngsters are in for it; maybe I won't forget it in another 10 years!) Mike and the kids' said, "Look on the bright side ...you're as happy as ever and have so much to be thankful for ...(open card) Besides, it could be worse. You could be pregnant!" ANYONE who knows me well finds the humor in this! Then there was the card I got a day late, my Dad's. He never picks out a seperate one from my mother, but he did this time. It went on about the things you don't realize 'til your daughter's grown. I could want to strangle that man and he can bring me to pitiful tears when he does these things. (The check inside was just a bonus.)
So, this long story boils down to the fact that I couldn't have gone out shopping for myself and found things that would've suited me better - my friends hear me. God help 'em; it's hard not to. My husband gave me a day that encouraged me beyond any measure. He has on order something I've always wanted but would never dare purchase. My children honored me and celebrated our family. 40, so far, is most excellent.
I've been "saying" I'm almost 40 for over half a year, so "being" 40 now is no biggy. However, I do have to face the reality that I am likely halfway through my life. I see that as a good sign. I see that I have no time left for excuses, bitterness, apathy, bickering, or fear for anything less than my Creator. There's also no more time for puttin' up and shuttin' up. I have no intention of the next 10 years being "about" me. I just know now that I can't dole out myself at the expense of my physical and spiritual stability. You've seen people go "slam off"? Well, watch it being done ...with grace I hope. I've got to get moving. You know, at 40, we can't blame our parents, our friends, our spouses, our kids, our society, our jobs for our sorryness, our messes, our disingenuous purposes, our shallowness, our slow progress. In the same breath, I have to stress that we must never sacrifice anyone, especially our family, to play catch up. It's all out there now and everyone is watching us to see what real grown ups act like. Will we shun them, bore them to tears, laugh or drink them off? I'm looking for something I've never known or been, not to disconnect FROM people in my life but to be more FOR them. Shouldn't we all be, all the time?
I'm having a hard time concentrating on details with the "symphony of unfortunate sounds" that's happening in the living room. (Actually, I'm in awe of some of things they've accomplished with the instruments today.) We have to leave for bible school in a few minutes anyway and I've had these PJs on since yesterday, so it's gonna take a few minutes for me to convince myself to change into something uncomfortable. The "big" kids have been on so many trips this summer that the little ones deserve full attention for this week of fun. I hope we can keep the Chinese-made nonessential prizes to a minimum, though; we just got the house in reasonable order before my party ...I'll be back to you tonight.
I've returned thankfully with only visors and am ready to recall the unraveling, if you're pessimistic, or the revealing, if you're optimistic of my "surprise party". Much of it began last weekend when Mike and I had an all out screaming match over a door I slammed. (I should know now by experience how much men hate that.) I've felt for some time that he's been short with me and in my deepest of deep thoughts have entertained the fear of his alter ego's return. He sees me as nit picker, I'm sure, even though I've developed enough self control to go silent when the heat kicks up. Regardless, I took off like a bat out of Hades, if that's possible in a minivan. I drove up Brushy Mountain Road to the orchards listening to some powerful Christian songs. A sermon came on and I reached to turn it more than once, but held off long enough to hear that it was about believing and hoping the best of one's partner until proven otherwise. I parked the car and watched the sun set. I was calmed and saw my error, hormonal week or not. I drove in our drive but wasn't ready to face the "crowd", so I walked off into the volleyball court to pull weeds. Those of you who have seen it lately know it was a losing battle.
Before long, I saw Mike coming ...and fast. He hadn't seen me. He threw it in park, cars nose to nose. He surprised me with his furiousity. Pouting I had mentioned before, in reference to the whole family's reluctance for teamwork, getting a hotel room and staying a while. I had left with no shoes and no such intentions, but he didn't know that since I had also thrown my phone out the window. Across the field, he proceeded to yell out all his frustrations and by doing so, made it clear how much I had hurt him by my earlier provoked, snide remark about our sex life. In hindside, the very thing I criticized I am equally guilty of creating.
I had no rage left for him. It had subsided and it was right for me to stand there and take it, although I got riled up enough to defend against some accusations. Regardless, he let it fly that he that very day had shopped, spending hundreds of dollars, on a party for me. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I'd known for weeks. As Michael, Jr. said, I wouldn't have been privy had I trusted him and not peeked over his shoulder as he gave his back to me checking messages. I will defend only the part that I still hold firm to and it applies to each and every one of us. Married people have no business whatsoever sending private messages (unless there's a surprise brewing) to anyone who is even close to a candidate for emotional or physical release. If you don't believe me, check back a few blogs.
So, we apologized and he went back to the house and I laid down in the cool, wet sand like some big sissy. It did feel good, though. I'm telling you there is something about the elements that bring God closer to me. It was dark and the fog was moving in. The cicadas were singing. That Beagle we'd had only a matter of 3 weeks came all the way down there and dug himself a hole right up next me. All seemed right with the world ...except the chasm that I just helped deepen ...and then, the dog started growling at something and being in the house seemed a really reasonable idea. We had another round while I was in the shower getting all that sand off, so I stayed there like a fool with the cold water running over me and gave a slight thought to how he might feel to come find me with purple lips, but that movie drama crap is not for me. It was COLD and I got out, wrapped in a blanket, and sat on the porch swing. Christy called to check on me and gave me sound advice. I felt pretty stupid after I laid out the premise of it all, but as she says, "What are friends for?"
The week was to me an unveiling, like finding a treasure - getting little details about my birthday every few hours. It was enticing and drew me back to my husband, his forethought for me even while working and battling the turmoil in his body. The day of the party, I woke with my monthly friend and an almost debilitating backache - fitting for someone who would not leave well enough alone. I was determined to start this year off by keeping my commitment to walk with Christy and to keep concentration on restoring myself to good health. When we started up that first hill, I understood what I was in for. I felt like poor old Smokey walking behind us, vigilantly guarding although his leg gives way ever so often. Those of you who have read deep into my writings are clued into what condition causes my episodes of aches and lethargy. I could be a posterchild for premarital warnings, but that's a story for another day.
After I showered and polished up, I was to ride with Christy to get her girls. She knew I was in serious discomfort so she came walking to the car with a concoction that saved the day. Now, "shine" is exactly the kind of thing a lady normally recoils to BUT this was "Apple Pie Shine", cinnamon floating, and I declare within a few minutes, I was so warm and cozy it could've been Christmas. All was right with the world again. I was just plain happy, not drunk ...happy. You did all wish me a "happy" birthday, right? It was an hour before we drove back to our house, so there is a small chance that I drank just a little much. I was most concerned about the breath I must've had because there was no hiding it....but ...I think all present will agree that I was "happy".
Walking through the door, I saw the faces that mean to most to me. I've tweaked my list of friends, so it's kinda small but it's jampacked with loyalty and goodness. I turned to the right to see a smile I haven't seen in person in 28 years, a childhood friend's. Words don't do justice to feelings drawn up out of the fabric of one's past. Most of the others were people who have welcomed me and mine into this county we've only been in 3 years. I've never had a period in my life with so many people I trust and care about and really enjoy. Mike and the kids had their smiles on, but I know they were exhausted from days of preparation. I hoped they would breathe it all in the way I was ...and I think they did, mostly because my friends are also the kind of people who are friends to our children.
The decorations in black and pink were "over the top" - streamers covering the ceiling and balloons floating everywhere. It was all just right. Jami and Shawn, Kristin and Jasmyn came to assist them in the finishing touches. He, Mike, in his pink shirt, looked relieved - that it was finally happening. He's done everything he knows to in the last year to prove his new found direction. I should walk more closely with him while he's doing so.
I don't know that I have any particular talent of "working a room". (I don't even remember the last birthday party I've had with friends gathered ...several baby showers, though!) Nonetheless, I floated around the room in something that seemed like a dance. It may or may not have had a relation to the aforementioned warm feeling. My living room was speckled with pretty tables and people I could give a part of my heart to and trust they wouldn't toss it around. I did miss Mary-Hope but quickly found out she had made an appearance but had darted out to do the work that most of us could never handle. I know there are a couple who had prior engagements and others who had legitimate things come up. I was "happy" with the group I was presented with and won't soon forget who showed me their faithfulness regardless of how busy their day was. Then, my Megan rolled in all the way from Georgia having worked that morning. That made the package complete - all my babies together ...and for me.
I talked and laughed so much that I never even blew out candles or tasted my gorgeous cake, but I was finally rounded up to open gifts. It's been 10 years since I sat with such an audience to receive presents, so I hadn't given it much thought. However, Christy had already given me her idea of what I needed. She was right on "target" (get it, Christy?). I love that Lou tried on handbags with her 'til she decided on something for me. She had listened and remembered that I had pointed out mine was worn out. That means a lot to me. Kristin had also listened to me. A few weeks prior, I'd mentioned that I was down to my last pair of Levi's and refused to buy until I was into a smaller pair, much less a bigger pair! She'd been shopping for me at Tractor Supply Co. - 'nuf said.
Mary-Hope had left a bottle of wine (which I'm sipping on right now) and one of perfume. Miranda had given a wine glass, but replaced it tonight with this one covered in "bling" and color. She had also taken the little ones shopping and got me a BAMA colored coffee cup filled with my favorites, Milky Ways, and a "cherry blossom" scented candle that Madalynn decided on after apparently "smelling them all". Megan brought me a GPS in hopes that I wouldn't end up in Tennessee next time I leave Georgia on a route I've been on dozens of times. Risa made a grand late entrance and brought me a gift of Key Lime treats that was just as personal as the other gifts. Loreilie made a big red memory album that sported a sparkly "m" on the cover. She had pulled pictures off Facebook and put them on the pages inside. It was definitely a tear jerking moment for me that she took the time away from her busy life to create it. Cindy gave me a Barnes and Noble giftcard, which makes me look forward to meandering around a bookstore very soon. More importantly, she gave me a card that said people like me are God's way of smiling at her. Even more importantly, she and most everyone else wrote personal messages in them, except Kristin BUT hers sang to me about how I shine and not ever changing that. (And her daughter, Jasmyn's, was just as kind.) Cousin Kimberly mailed a pretty one that trumped the impact of my legacy. Mary-Hope said that our friendship is a treasure that is hard to find. Christy's said that God put us together for a reason ...she's right.
Is it proper for me to divulge their innermost thoughts? I'm just sharing what being loved feels like. I don't deserve it, but I'm gonna wrap myself up in it and know that harldy anything else matters. There were other thoughtful cards and funny ones about my old age. (Virginia and Jami, you 30 yo youngsters are in for it; maybe I won't forget it in another 10 years!) Mike and the kids' said, "Look on the bright side ...you're as happy as ever and have so much to be thankful for ...(open card) Besides, it could be worse. You could be pregnant!" ANYONE who knows me well finds the humor in this! Then there was the card I got a day late, my Dad's. He never picks out a seperate one from my mother, but he did this time. It went on about the things you don't realize 'til your daughter's grown. I could want to strangle that man and he can bring me to pitiful tears when he does these things. (The check inside was just a bonus.)
So, this long story boils down to the fact that I couldn't have gone out shopping for myself and found things that would've suited me better - my friends hear me. God help 'em; it's hard not to. My husband gave me a day that encouraged me beyond any measure. He has on order something I've always wanted but would never dare purchase. My children honored me and celebrated our family. 40, so far, is most excellent.
I've been "saying" I'm almost 40 for over half a year, so "being" 40 now is no biggy. However, I do have to face the reality that I am likely halfway through my life. I see that as a good sign. I see that I have no time left for excuses, bitterness, apathy, bickering, or fear for anything less than my Creator. There's also no more time for puttin' up and shuttin' up. I have no intention of the next 10 years being "about" me. I just know now that I can't dole out myself at the expense of my physical and spiritual stability. You've seen people go "slam off"? Well, watch it being done ...with grace I hope. I've got to get moving. You know, at 40, we can't blame our parents, our friends, our spouses, our kids, our society, our jobs for our sorryness, our messes, our disingenuous purposes, our shallowness, our slow progress. In the same breath, I have to stress that we must never sacrifice anyone, especially our family, to play catch up. It's all out there now and everyone is watching us to see what real grown ups act like. Will we shun them, bore them to tears, laugh or drink them off? I'm looking for something I've never known or been, not to disconnect FROM people in my life but to be more FOR them. Shouldn't we all be, all the time?
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
On the Edge
So much is happening that I feel like I'm dancing with a new partner every hour, just after I've learned the steps with the last. Summer has been no lazy one for me. For whatever reason, I measure the weeks by bringing the trash can back from the road and lately it seems that only 2 days pass in between. I'll be 40 in 2 weeks and my life is speeding ahead of me. I have no time to be mediocre. I need to drive forward using up all my mind, spirit, and body have to offer. Though, I must make time to savor, just as Christy reminded me tonight as I asked if we were heading up the next hill. She's headstrong about being in shape but said that since we got a late start, she needed to get home to spend an hour or so relaxing and hand holding. She's a year younger but offers from much to glean.
The last weeks have been peppered with appointments for Mike: Urologist, Gastrologist, Orthopedist, etc. And we still don't have any real answers. I'd say concern for the future and this big family would come into play, but I've personally seen God do things that shouldn't be possible. My concern is for a man with a fresh spirit, yet a body that continues to plague him to the point of suffering. He weans himself from pain meds to find himself in awful shape. It's all cruel but there must be purpose ...and I don't mean punishment.
Most of us Harpers have some sort of ailment that needs the attention of a physician. After Mike, Miranda is most concerning. She has every symptom of hormonal imbalance. I really should've put it together before now. Macklynn has a tooth that needs to be removed to make room for another but is complicated by insurance. Things like sports physicals and other minor problems need to be tended to also. It adds up to a lot of time; but in the same sentence, I have to express how fortunate I know we are to have medical care and coverage. Though, God knows we "know" that a good many docs out there are on the verge of incompetence and that we need to ultimately count on Him.
In August, Miranda will hopefully test into the community college early. McKala will begin Drivers' Ed. Michael is moving up to middle school football. Melody has decided to take up the "fiddle". Macklynn's mind is a sponge ready to be soaked with all things good. Madalynn is making her place in the family and needing quite a bit of direction. In the mix looms the prospect of Megan joining the service.
For now, Miranda has begun a new job; McKala is spending most of the summer as a helper at camp; Michael is volunteering some too and about to ramp up football practices to 4 a week with his body that has grown to the height of his father's; Melody has made a BFF and spending all the time she can with her before the "magic" of summer ends; Macklynn fishes and swims, oftentimes with Trevor, day in and day out; Madalynn swims with and stays on the porch, even in the heat, to be with the sweet short legged Beagle her Daddy brought home. Megan, our mechanic/"technician", will be put "on the line" next week, which is good that there is confidence in her skill but she's bracing for a steep decline in hours. She is also to find out if she has totaled her new car, but she and Miranda are still preparing to "meet up" in SC next week for some sister time. McKala and Michael are setting up to buy several calves in August. Macklynn and Madalynn are psyching up for VBS. And that's just all I can think of right now.
On top of all this remain daily household functions that are shuffled with the continuous change ups. There are evergrowing educational needs. Then, there are the upkeep issues of painting and repairing. THEN, there is the outside which is shameful - about a step away from looking like white trash. We do usually have some pile of a project that keeps us teetering on the edge of people knodding their heads at us. As I write, there's a pile of used lumber out in the yard awaiting plans for a water slide frame.
All these things are usual enough, but I find in the last few months every time I turn around someone I care about is in crisis, real crisis. After checking my 28 flashing messages, I found out a friend's husband had been in the hospital 6 days last week with unexplainable blood clots. Another friend is facing the loss of her home. Another's father needs a heart transplant. Yet another (young mother) has an inoperable tumor growing in her brain. One's grandchildren are being tossed around like pets. A family member is making the biggest mistake of his life. A young friend lost her Dad far too early. Others' children are entering dark places. Perversion is attacking the best of us. Here's where I'm going with this ...as I pray throughout the day, the list of sadness becomes so heavy that I feel my face begin to burn. It's said that Christ not only suffered physical torture but also the spiritual burden of the world. Imagine the wrenching his heart must have felt to take on the hurt of every soul.
Something else I'm facing is the accelerated deterioration of society. I sit in parking lots to let the older kids run errands sometimes and just watch people going to and fro. There is unkemptness and unhealthiness, to put it mildly. There is crudeness, laziness, and just plain dirtiness, hardly anyone smiling and if so, it's a smirk. To make a difference seems an impossible task. The impending economic and political failure of our nation seems too great. Just to move forward successfully with my own busy life seems impossible. The truth is that it is - impossible. I have a saving element - my very personal relationship with a very real God. One thing sets it all "a spin" - His words. How is it that I check Facebook before His book in the mornings? This can't keep up. I have to pour His words into me or I'm bound to crumble. Turning 30 was hard because I had severely wasted those early years. I won't have any part of it turning 40. I don't HAVE the time to waste. I'm tired of watching it whir by me to the left and to the right because my walk is just off center. I'm old enough to be certain at all times that the serpent is ready to strike and set me back so that I'm ineffective, so that I remain in survival mode instead of victor mode. Funny we complain that the Bible doesn't offer enough information to us, but we spend half a life on this planet, having only unearthed parts of its divinity. A friend posted today Joshua 1:8 about meditating on the "book" day and night, referring to prosperity and success. Verse 9 is, "Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest." I just saw that verse 7 says, "... turn not from it to the right hand nor to the left." I had no idea it was there as I wrote something similar above. I really, really like confirmation. :) This makes for a good end to say, "Goodnight ...and if you see me around savagely attacking a task or savoring the beauty and purpose surrounding it, know that I'm forever trying to work out the balance and hoping to don a smile through it all."
The last weeks have been peppered with appointments for Mike: Urologist, Gastrologist, Orthopedist, etc. And we still don't have any real answers. I'd say concern for the future and this big family would come into play, but I've personally seen God do things that shouldn't be possible. My concern is for a man with a fresh spirit, yet a body that continues to plague him to the point of suffering. He weans himself from pain meds to find himself in awful shape. It's all cruel but there must be purpose ...and I don't mean punishment.
Most of us Harpers have some sort of ailment that needs the attention of a physician. After Mike, Miranda is most concerning. She has every symptom of hormonal imbalance. I really should've put it together before now. Macklynn has a tooth that needs to be removed to make room for another but is complicated by insurance. Things like sports physicals and other minor problems need to be tended to also. It adds up to a lot of time; but in the same sentence, I have to express how fortunate I know we are to have medical care and coverage. Though, God knows we "know" that a good many docs out there are on the verge of incompetence and that we need to ultimately count on Him.
In August, Miranda will hopefully test into the community college early. McKala will begin Drivers' Ed. Michael is moving up to middle school football. Melody has decided to take up the "fiddle". Macklynn's mind is a sponge ready to be soaked with all things good. Madalynn is making her place in the family and needing quite a bit of direction. In the mix looms the prospect of Megan joining the service.
For now, Miranda has begun a new job; McKala is spending most of the summer as a helper at camp; Michael is volunteering some too and about to ramp up football practices to 4 a week with his body that has grown to the height of his father's; Melody has made a BFF and spending all the time she can with her before the "magic" of summer ends; Macklynn fishes and swims, oftentimes with Trevor, day in and day out; Madalynn swims with and stays on the porch, even in the heat, to be with the sweet short legged Beagle her Daddy brought home. Megan, our mechanic/"technician", will be put "on the line" next week, which is good that there is confidence in her skill but she's bracing for a steep decline in hours. She is also to find out if she has totaled her new car, but she and Miranda are still preparing to "meet up" in SC next week for some sister time. McKala and Michael are setting up to buy several calves in August. Macklynn and Madalynn are psyching up for VBS. And that's just all I can think of right now.
On top of all this remain daily household functions that are shuffled with the continuous change ups. There are evergrowing educational needs. Then, there are the upkeep issues of painting and repairing. THEN, there is the outside which is shameful - about a step away from looking like white trash. We do usually have some pile of a project that keeps us teetering on the edge of people knodding their heads at us. As I write, there's a pile of used lumber out in the yard awaiting plans for a water slide frame.
All these things are usual enough, but I find in the last few months every time I turn around someone I care about is in crisis, real crisis. After checking my 28 flashing messages, I found out a friend's husband had been in the hospital 6 days last week with unexplainable blood clots. Another friend is facing the loss of her home. Another's father needs a heart transplant. Yet another (young mother) has an inoperable tumor growing in her brain. One's grandchildren are being tossed around like pets. A family member is making the biggest mistake of his life. A young friend lost her Dad far too early. Others' children are entering dark places. Perversion is attacking the best of us. Here's where I'm going with this ...as I pray throughout the day, the list of sadness becomes so heavy that I feel my face begin to burn. It's said that Christ not only suffered physical torture but also the spiritual burden of the world. Imagine the wrenching his heart must have felt to take on the hurt of every soul.
Something else I'm facing is the accelerated deterioration of society. I sit in parking lots to let the older kids run errands sometimes and just watch people going to and fro. There is unkemptness and unhealthiness, to put it mildly. There is crudeness, laziness, and just plain dirtiness, hardly anyone smiling and if so, it's a smirk. To make a difference seems an impossible task. The impending economic and political failure of our nation seems too great. Just to move forward successfully with my own busy life seems impossible. The truth is that it is - impossible. I have a saving element - my very personal relationship with a very real God. One thing sets it all "a spin" - His words. How is it that I check Facebook before His book in the mornings? This can't keep up. I have to pour His words into me or I'm bound to crumble. Turning 30 was hard because I had severely wasted those early years. I won't have any part of it turning 40. I don't HAVE the time to waste. I'm tired of watching it whir by me to the left and to the right because my walk is just off center. I'm old enough to be certain at all times that the serpent is ready to strike and set me back so that I'm ineffective, so that I remain in survival mode instead of victor mode. Funny we complain that the Bible doesn't offer enough information to us, but we spend half a life on this planet, having only unearthed parts of its divinity. A friend posted today Joshua 1:8 about meditating on the "book" day and night, referring to prosperity and success. Verse 9 is, "Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest." I just saw that verse 7 says, "... turn not from it to the right hand nor to the left." I had no idea it was there as I wrote something similar above. I really, really like confirmation. :) This makes for a good end to say, "Goodnight ...and if you see me around savagely attacking a task or savoring the beauty and purpose surrounding it, know that I'm forever trying to work out the balance and hoping to don a smile through it all."
Thursday, July 7, 2011
WV Bound on a 22nd Anniversary
The trip started out with good signs. In rummaging through from the November cruise, I found something I'd been very disappointed I lost. I ran upstairs to announce it and McKala is so intune to me that she knew what it was, my black pearl earrings that are part of a necklace and bracelet set my Dad gave me.
Mike rented a Harley that he's raved about, with independent steering. "Rides like a super bike!" he said. Passing through Virginia and its scenery was pleasant and a good change-up for Mike who runs that route often but behind the wheel of his truck. He turned back to me and asked if my eyes burned and when we stopped for gas, we found out why. The last guy had lost the cap. After I got my spicy peanuts and milk, which I didn't have time to finish, we took off to a dealership for one. I wondered how small the chances were that I was the only one on the back of a bike drinking a pint of milk. I don't know, but it sure felt good.
We approached the dealer and I realized it's right beside the hotel where I lost my wedding ring 7 years ago, the same day we found out I was pregnant with Macklynn. I'll take that swap any day, but still hope no joy was found from the money my ring was likely pawned for. Mike had asked that we make burgers and bring them for the stay, so I tucked my ring in my pocket to do so. When we returned home and I searched for it, we called and were told an honest housekeeper had found it. We delayed though and showed up to find that "someone" had taken it from its "secure" location. Good thing is I still have my band from our wedding day. The stolen one was the diamond laden one Mike had purchased a number of years after we married.
On to West Virginia, stopping to admire the gold dome of the capital building, ...we arrived and threw open the door to our hotel room and Mike was truly caught by surprise. Over the phone, there were some complications with reservations; so when the manager kindly fixed them, I explained the situation of our "special" anniversary and how much I appreciated it. She then said that she was going to decorate the room for us. I was elated that Mike would get a rare surprise. There were champagne, hand-dipped chocolate strawberries, a dozen pink tipped roses, balloons, doilies, towel swans, and rose petals strewn about the bed - and all for the corporate rate with no additional fees. It was a perfect kick-off to our weekend.
Until ...Mike and I were talking about his serious ailments leading to his loss of 24 pounds in just 3 weeks. He jovially said, "You need to catch it." Now ...I didn't argue with him; tried not to even look at him crossways, but innately I let that cut straight through me. I didn't even want to fight ...because I know it's true, but when a woman is trying to get her "sexy on", that kinda thing knocks her from her footing. After all, I'd tried to look past our blow up at Wake Forest ER, had been walking a couple of miles a day, and, heck, I was so bloated with PMS that my rings didn't fit. The truth is that is was all out sabatoge, just what I wrote about last - the evil one stealing the makings of good memories. When I was younger, I wouldn't have recognized that principalities were invading my space. Then, I tried to salvage what was left, but was hardly successful in overcoming my silly emotions.
We grabbed some supper, showered, slept, ... and this "new Mike" of mine brought waffles to the room next morning. I could've been pouty and complained that I didn't "need" them, but I'm not in the business of destroying hearts and took his gift as just that, a gift. Immediately, he found out that his business insurer is dropping him come Fall. I felt bad that he was presented with a problem right off the bat. He already had his ill health and "hormonal" wife to deal with.
He went to the store and that gave me time to tidy up. When passing back and forth in front of the mirrors, I noticed dressed in my "boyfriend" shirt how much cellulite is on the FRONT of my thighs. 6 years ago I didn't have any, no matter what I weighed, so I took a minute to research some causes. Of course, I'm older and heavier, but I read that it has quite a bit to do with circulation. With the vein problems I have, I wear wool socks to bed in the summer because my feet freeze. I still believe though it could have something to do with the blood thinner injections I had for many months of the last 2 pregnancies. On course, stay on course ...I could've smacked myself when I read that the cider vinegar and coconut oil I stopped taking last year are 2 of the very best things for this problem!
Mike came back cloaked in all kinds of red, white, and blue. He also brought evidence that his Mama raised him right - a thank you card for the hotel manager. Nowadays, I'm often the first to call someone out on something, so I certainly want to balance that with being the first to compliment. She said it was the only time she'd done that; she was thankful for the Norwegian Cruise Line training of her head housekeeper; and she said she was "practicing her romance for the man God has willed for her." She was a tall, pretty, black woman who claimed she had bypassed the advances of 3 men in recent history - one, a doctor; one, a fanastic lover from her past; and one, a love of her life - BUT none of them loved Christ. So she will wait with that smile of hers patiently.
We finally made it to the pool - I, in a forgiving suit and dolled-up a little with jewelry and my new Maui Jims, hoping to distract from lower body "scans". Funny, I read many years ago that verse about not adorning oneself with gold (I even got rid of my jewely box); BUT as I read Song of Solomon now, it's clear that jewelry is an attraction to men, so I'm workin' that angle 'til I get my "sexy" back. You know, it's like anything in the Bible - what matters are intentions. Am I trying to turn on my husband or am I trying to show off my high falutin' ways?
Mike wanted to move to the indoor sauna, so I, being a follower, didn't see that moving from the sun to a hottub I can't sit in (viens) was anything to pick apart. With 2 strong personalities not often coming to a general consensus, I've sometimes voluntarily conditioned myself and other times involuntarily been conditioned to avoid tension over issues of preference ...and just go with the flow - which often is a place of spiritual protection even if we don't always want to be there. Only problem lies in that if his forgetfulnness gets me lost, we're both in a pickle. We ended up in the indoor pool, only ones there, releasing all pretense (which is some image I've always felt I had to match), and just put our arms around each other. There we were, him with his trucker belly, me with my baby belly, and it didn't matter. That whole idea of "mates" came to mind. Being a mate, a true mate for a lifetime, is of the highest honor and a mystery, just out of grasp, to so many us.
I read this last week - true words from a Christian man nearing 70 who has had a vivacious sex life, "We may look back and laugh at the vigor we once knew, of passionate fires long since burned out, but we will not look back in regret, and there will be no loss, for even now the wonderful, glorious flesh has been exceeded by a merging of spirits until the unseen is far more tangible than the seen. As our bodies sag and creak, as the flesh breaks down and leans over to face the cold ground, there has been a life kindled that burns more in the spirit world than in the bedroom. If my wife faded away until nothing was left but her spirit, I would put that dear spirit in a bottle and inhale it until my last breath." That ending sentence brings tears every time I read it, even as I edit this. Am I the kind of mate/spirit whom my husband would want to inhale when I leave this world? I know that I'm not that good or sweet, but I also know there's a God who can get me close to there. I think we can all get there, so if you hear of a woman passing out this 82 page "sex" book in little Union Grove, you'll say, "Yeap, I know that one."
Another thought - "Could it be that I have not had God's blessing to be my utmost physically until I gave my heart fully back into the hands of Mike?" In this year of pulling and tugging, might I have taken myself somewhere I shouldn't have gone if I were "Miss It"? Knowing me, and He does, it's not an unfounded question. (Although "Miss It" would've needed a man with less than perfect sight to overlook a meriad of flaws.)
What we drove all the way to West Virginia to see was the musical talent of Lou Reid and Carolina. We rode many miles from the hotel through valleys that looked much like those we've driven between North Carolina and Tennessee. Mike ate up breezing through those curves as I smelled that familiar mountain air. We parked just in time to hear the band starting. Live instrumental music can't be substituted, plus they lent their well defined voices to dedications for our anniversary titled, "Walk Through This World with Me" and "Wait a Minute", song about a traveling husband and father. It really made me think hard about the years and what building and demolition that's gone on - the unexplicable grace given us to survive and bring 7 precious souls along with us.
Afterwards, I shared with Christy our "appreciation" for the venue. The engines of mud boggers/full pullers were the back-up music, but Mike and I grinned as we reminisced on another piece of our history - when he talked this "preppy" girl into a contest to see who could run through the bog the fastest. Laughing, we mounted up again for the road. The thing about the motorcyle is that you have to touch. Touch has been tentative at best over the last months; but, it felt right to lean on him, rub and scratch his back, squeeze him with my legs to the pulse of the music, or just give him a big ole bear hug. (We're gettin' somewhere in this walk to the unknown.) After a couple of hours horsing around with everyone at the hotel lounge, we went to the room to finally culminate our WV experience, even topping off with a cowgirl up - not had in well over a year and about time for. ;)
I brought him room service the next morning and then NC it was. We had a couple of days left of celebration, including the 4th, but I'd found what I needed already, a piece to the puzzle of Mike and me.
Mike rented a Harley that he's raved about, with independent steering. "Rides like a super bike!" he said. Passing through Virginia and its scenery was pleasant and a good change-up for Mike who runs that route often but behind the wheel of his truck. He turned back to me and asked if my eyes burned and when we stopped for gas, we found out why. The last guy had lost the cap. After I got my spicy peanuts and milk, which I didn't have time to finish, we took off to a dealership for one. I wondered how small the chances were that I was the only one on the back of a bike drinking a pint of milk. I don't know, but it sure felt good.
We approached the dealer and I realized it's right beside the hotel where I lost my wedding ring 7 years ago, the same day we found out I was pregnant with Macklynn. I'll take that swap any day, but still hope no joy was found from the money my ring was likely pawned for. Mike had asked that we make burgers and bring them for the stay, so I tucked my ring in my pocket to do so. When we returned home and I searched for it, we called and were told an honest housekeeper had found it. We delayed though and showed up to find that "someone" had taken it from its "secure" location. Good thing is I still have my band from our wedding day. The stolen one was the diamond laden one Mike had purchased a number of years after we married.
On to West Virginia, stopping to admire the gold dome of the capital building, ...we arrived and threw open the door to our hotel room and Mike was truly caught by surprise. Over the phone, there were some complications with reservations; so when the manager kindly fixed them, I explained the situation of our "special" anniversary and how much I appreciated it. She then said that she was going to decorate the room for us. I was elated that Mike would get a rare surprise. There were champagne, hand-dipped chocolate strawberries, a dozen pink tipped roses, balloons, doilies, towel swans, and rose petals strewn about the bed - and all for the corporate rate with no additional fees. It was a perfect kick-off to our weekend.
Until ...Mike and I were talking about his serious ailments leading to his loss of 24 pounds in just 3 weeks. He jovially said, "You need to catch it." Now ...I didn't argue with him; tried not to even look at him crossways, but innately I let that cut straight through me. I didn't even want to fight ...because I know it's true, but when a woman is trying to get her "sexy on", that kinda thing knocks her from her footing. After all, I'd tried to look past our blow up at Wake Forest ER, had been walking a couple of miles a day, and, heck, I was so bloated with PMS that my rings didn't fit. The truth is that is was all out sabatoge, just what I wrote about last - the evil one stealing the makings of good memories. When I was younger, I wouldn't have recognized that principalities were invading my space. Then, I tried to salvage what was left, but was hardly successful in overcoming my silly emotions.
We grabbed some supper, showered, slept, ... and this "new Mike" of mine brought waffles to the room next morning. I could've been pouty and complained that I didn't "need" them, but I'm not in the business of destroying hearts and took his gift as just that, a gift. Immediately, he found out that his business insurer is dropping him come Fall. I felt bad that he was presented with a problem right off the bat. He already had his ill health and "hormonal" wife to deal with.
He went to the store and that gave me time to tidy up. When passing back and forth in front of the mirrors, I noticed dressed in my "boyfriend" shirt how much cellulite is on the FRONT of my thighs. 6 years ago I didn't have any, no matter what I weighed, so I took a minute to research some causes. Of course, I'm older and heavier, but I read that it has quite a bit to do with circulation. With the vein problems I have, I wear wool socks to bed in the summer because my feet freeze. I still believe though it could have something to do with the blood thinner injections I had for many months of the last 2 pregnancies. On course, stay on course ...I could've smacked myself when I read that the cider vinegar and coconut oil I stopped taking last year are 2 of the very best things for this problem!
Mike came back cloaked in all kinds of red, white, and blue. He also brought evidence that his Mama raised him right - a thank you card for the hotel manager. Nowadays, I'm often the first to call someone out on something, so I certainly want to balance that with being the first to compliment. She said it was the only time she'd done that; she was thankful for the Norwegian Cruise Line training of her head housekeeper; and she said she was "practicing her romance for the man God has willed for her." She was a tall, pretty, black woman who claimed she had bypassed the advances of 3 men in recent history - one, a doctor; one, a fanastic lover from her past; and one, a love of her life - BUT none of them loved Christ. So she will wait with that smile of hers patiently.
We finally made it to the pool - I, in a forgiving suit and dolled-up a little with jewelry and my new Maui Jims, hoping to distract from lower body "scans". Funny, I read many years ago that verse about not adorning oneself with gold (I even got rid of my jewely box); BUT as I read Song of Solomon now, it's clear that jewelry is an attraction to men, so I'm workin' that angle 'til I get my "sexy" back. You know, it's like anything in the Bible - what matters are intentions. Am I trying to turn on my husband or am I trying to show off my high falutin' ways?
Mike wanted to move to the indoor sauna, so I, being a follower, didn't see that moving from the sun to a hottub I can't sit in (viens) was anything to pick apart. With 2 strong personalities not often coming to a general consensus, I've sometimes voluntarily conditioned myself and other times involuntarily been conditioned to avoid tension over issues of preference ...and just go with the flow - which often is a place of spiritual protection even if we don't always want to be there. Only problem lies in that if his forgetfulnness gets me lost, we're both in a pickle. We ended up in the indoor pool, only ones there, releasing all pretense (which is some image I've always felt I had to match), and just put our arms around each other. There we were, him with his trucker belly, me with my baby belly, and it didn't matter. That whole idea of "mates" came to mind. Being a mate, a true mate for a lifetime, is of the highest honor and a mystery, just out of grasp, to so many us.
I read this last week - true words from a Christian man nearing 70 who has had a vivacious sex life, "We may look back and laugh at the vigor we once knew, of passionate fires long since burned out, but we will not look back in regret, and there will be no loss, for even now the wonderful, glorious flesh has been exceeded by a merging of spirits until the unseen is far more tangible than the seen. As our bodies sag and creak, as the flesh breaks down and leans over to face the cold ground, there has been a life kindled that burns more in the spirit world than in the bedroom. If my wife faded away until nothing was left but her spirit, I would put that dear spirit in a bottle and inhale it until my last breath." That ending sentence brings tears every time I read it, even as I edit this. Am I the kind of mate/spirit whom my husband would want to inhale when I leave this world? I know that I'm not that good or sweet, but I also know there's a God who can get me close to there. I think we can all get there, so if you hear of a woman passing out this 82 page "sex" book in little Union Grove, you'll say, "Yeap, I know that one."
Another thought - "Could it be that I have not had God's blessing to be my utmost physically until I gave my heart fully back into the hands of Mike?" In this year of pulling and tugging, might I have taken myself somewhere I shouldn't have gone if I were "Miss It"? Knowing me, and He does, it's not an unfounded question. (Although "Miss It" would've needed a man with less than perfect sight to overlook a meriad of flaws.)
What we drove all the way to West Virginia to see was the musical talent of Lou Reid and Carolina. We rode many miles from the hotel through valleys that looked much like those we've driven between North Carolina and Tennessee. Mike ate up breezing through those curves as I smelled that familiar mountain air. We parked just in time to hear the band starting. Live instrumental music can't be substituted, plus they lent their well defined voices to dedications for our anniversary titled, "Walk Through This World with Me" and "Wait a Minute", song about a traveling husband and father. It really made me think hard about the years and what building and demolition that's gone on - the unexplicable grace given us to survive and bring 7 precious souls along with us.
Afterwards, I shared with Christy our "appreciation" for the venue. The engines of mud boggers/full pullers were the back-up music, but Mike and I grinned as we reminisced on another piece of our history - when he talked this "preppy" girl into a contest to see who could run through the bog the fastest. Laughing, we mounted up again for the road. The thing about the motorcyle is that you have to touch. Touch has been tentative at best over the last months; but, it felt right to lean on him, rub and scratch his back, squeeze him with my legs to the pulse of the music, or just give him a big ole bear hug. (We're gettin' somewhere in this walk to the unknown.) After a couple of hours horsing around with everyone at the hotel lounge, we went to the room to finally culminate our WV experience, even topping off with a cowgirl up - not had in well over a year and about time for. ;)
I brought him room service the next morning and then NC it was. We had a couple of days left of celebration, including the 4th, but I'd found what I needed already, a piece to the puzzle of Mike and me.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Georgia on My Mind
With our well-placed confidence in our family friend, Ali Robbins, to take care of our pets, we hit "Hotlanta" around 2 am, everybody awake wanting the windows down as we passed the highrises, all singing at the top of their lungs. We went directly to Megan's place on the back of Mom and Dad's property. She was waiting for us as they all piled out, no matter how tired. It was the first time the kids have seen their sister and her dog (since she moved out last summer) in her new surroundings. They ran in and out of the rooms while Macklynn checked every cabinet he could reach. I finally got the boys and younger girls coralled in the car, leaving the older ones to sleep at Megan's.
We've only been going once a year, so to walk into my parents' house in all its neatness and good smells is precious to me. There is a room, the "moose room", reserved just for the children, with 2 sets of bunk beds. Then there is the room painted in pale blue for Mike and me. Mom had used her overtime money to buy a new mattress for it and I slept like a girl who hadn't been to her Mom's in a year.
Saturday morning was spent preparing for a day on the lake with my Dad and his boat. While most of the kids piled in "Goliath" (his black extended cab F350 dually with a cover), my sister in law and 4 year old niece rode with me. It's a "good ways" to the lake, so we had much overdue "talk time". I asked her if they were in the "baby business" again and she quickly said, "No". I knew there was a problem and finally found answers as my brother called and she gave him quick replies trying to hide her emotion from me. He "doesn't love her anymore ...and thinks he never did". There, of course, is much more and he is demanding a divorce. I have a letter written for him that I've yet to mail. Funny, I've been blogging about this sorta thing all year and I'm sure he has no idea of it. I read an article while sitting here, at Wake Forest ER with Mike, that could be just what he needs to accompany my letter.
We always take out the 3 seater float and everyone was old enough to ride this year. The thrill comes when crossing the wake in a turn, pulling however many g's. My other sister in law and I tried it last year and it was all I could do to hold myself in. The kids just can't get enough of it. Megan met us after work and just as everyone got a turn, we heard the storm coming. Macklynn was good with that since it meant he'd get to fish under the bridge. We tied up in anticipation. The boys got the rods ready as the girls sat on the front watching the storm line approaching. The wind began to blow sideways. Dad dismissed my look of concern by saying he's seen much worse on his ocean excursions. The weather changed so dramatically that we all were cold and wrapped in towels. As the kids made the best of it by standing against the wind and flying the colors of the towels over their heads, I watched the other boats bail out one at a time. Yes, we were the last of 2 left and then as we finally pulled out, the storm broke. Anyway, too much sun was had and Grandmother had something good cooked up upon our return.
I'll interupt here to say that I'm sitting by the pond in the sand under the shade of a large Dogwood Tree watching Macklynn, Madalynn, and Trevor chase Tootsie back and forth in single file to rescue the frog she's caught from the pond. I thought I'd stop to take a dip with them but the clouds are slowly rolling in. The dragonflies and tiny lavender butterflies are swarming. I just spotted a Coneflower that has come back from last year and Smokey is right here faithfully guarding over us all. I love it out here.
Sunday afternoon was the wedding day of a cousin. After Mom's breakfast, the dressing up insued. The big girls came to the house ready and just in time to put clothes on the young ones as I finished ironing the piece each needed. Megan took her role back immediately as big sister and had the troups in order. Arriving at the wedding seemed more like a Facebook reunion than a family one. So many of the people we haven't seen in years, except with "social networking". The service was quaint and lovely; their grown children standing near. The preacher had profound things to say, one: "You may marry the right person but if you treat them wrong, it will the wrong person. You may marry the wrong person but if you treat them right, it will be the right person." He was stressing that love is not emotion but action. Several of the children said I made an audible noise - must've really hit me :)
Madalynn sat through the ceremony well enough, but was grumpy even after the pleasing food. So, she took her bubbles (for the exit of the couple) under the long tablecloth and stayed there for the longest. That was fine because Mandy, Mike's sister and I got to sit at ease for her to tell me about her and her husband's decision, while they were in Aruba - their first trip alone in years - to renew their vows on their 20th Anniversary and that we should prepare over the next 2 years for that overseas destination. We missed their first one, so this is something to look forward to. I couldn't help but think of the irony - that Mike's sister's relationship is on the polar end of my brother and his wife's.
Mike arrived on another rented Harley just as the wedding ended. It was the best he could do, exhausted from all the miles in the truck this year. Right now, I can't remember what we did that evening except that my Mom made every fried thing that our kids love most. Monday morning though, I slept in and Mike took Miranda for a ride, stopping at his high school and running into one of his coaches. They ate at the famed Sprayberry's and put into a side bag an order of onion rings and BBQ for me, which is a pretty good way to round out a day of bumming it.
Tuesday, Mike and I went on a tour of memory lane, sighting all the changes - places closed up and new ones opened. First though, we pulled out of Mom and Dad's to spot a work crew of Mike's closest friend, Bubba. Just so happens, they were on the phone with him about to meet for lunch. Just so happens, my old jeans ripped from the knee almost to the pocket before we got there so I created a strange posture to hide what is not my best feature. They got a kick out of witnessing my discomfort getting back on - one threatening to Youtube it. We ended up at the barber shop where he got his hair cut as a young man. The very same barber still works there, remembering that he had bought an attachment specifically for Mike's high and tight. I swiped the magazine I'd read through to cover my gaping hole and we reached his parents' house to wash his hair just in time to catch his Dad about to leave with a puzzled look as to ask why his daughter in law was wearing such a thing. Once we got back to Mom and Dad's, those favorite jeans met their final destination - the wooden trash can that Mike's Dad had made for them. My next oldest pair is on its way out, but I have better plans for them - a burning of something that should be too big by the time they are unwearable. Wish me fortune on that. I met fortune already in the little "incident" that hadn't taken place in over a year - the thing known as a quickie, which may seem too much to offer here but it speaks everything to the refounding of our marriage.
Tuesday night, my brother, his wife, Jennifer, and little Maggie were to come over for an early Father's Day gathering for my Dad. Problem was that I was still furious with my brother, not even having had a conversation about his plan to leave his family and the way in which he's going about it. Earlier Mike and his classmate/neighbor from elementary and middle school (yes, Facebook friends now) had spoken and planned to connect on his commute. Little did he know, his timing rescued me from a fallout with my brother at that civil seating we were to attend. We met "Mr." Felgenhauer at a busy Mexican place right off I-85. The chips and salsa were really fresh; the margaritas, some of the best I've had; listening to their conversation, priceless; and the Jimmy Buffett singer topped it off. We got back just in time to see my brother leave. I'd have felt bad but I asked my Dad if I could join him in some maintenance of his equipment that evening. He was excited to have someone excited about his entrepreneurship. He has a "regular" job as the shift manager of a large extrusion plant, but after years of trying several ventures, he hit on a productive one. He bought the equipment to recycle hydraulic fluid at the very plant he works at. It's working beautifully for him and provides excellent income. He showed me every part and its use. I felt like there were some real father/daughter moments.
Mike picked me up from there just in time to meet all the kids (but Madalynn) to see the late night showing of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" sequel. We rarely all go together anymore, especially with Megan in Georgia now. Being out late is right up our alley. We had the viewing to ourselves except for 2 other people and thoroughly enjoyed it. Afterwards, he and I rode through the square in Newnan, stopping to read the placards and liking the feeling of aloneness.
Wednesday, Miranda went to work with Megan. We gathered the rest of us up to meet them. For me, it was the first time I'd seen her on this kind of job, the thing she was trained for. She was uniformed and greasy, her pretty nails traced with black ...gray smudges on her face. Her coworkers seem to appreciate her and really hammed it up. It's been a good first experience for her. I have a feeling she's already looking for more. Average is something we've hoped the children will never be at peace with.
It was lunchtime and Longhorn was happily agreed on. We look like a party when we're all seated together. We were louder than Mike was comfortable with. Thankfully, it was midafternoon and no one cared. I especially didn't after my marvelous Long Island tea that the waitress had asked the bartender to "do up right". Thanks to Mike for the hard work that pays for a $200 meal.
Macklynn was the fortunate canditate to ride home on the back of the bike. He propped up his elbows like he owned the road for those 45 minutes. They made a pitstop to get Daddy a new wallet. Daddy let Macklynn pick out a thing or two of his own. When they got back, Mike presented me with a very nice fushcia "Pirate" inspired pea blouse. I should look more like Penelope Cruz for him; I know I haven't tried hard enough - to at least be Michelle "Cruz" ;)
The Facebook effect really hit home when I ran down to the corner store to buy milk because we had diminished Mom's supply. The girl I was behind in line looked really familiar. Come to find out, I had never laid eyes on her but am friends with her mother on Facebook, which is where I had seen numerous pictures of the girl. We both got a laugh out of it and went on our ways.
Things had moved along so smoothly that I was completely caught off guard with my Dad that evening. He had been in talks with Mike and Miranda about the purchase of his old Honda he drives to work. Some repairs were done so the price went up. For some reason, he asked me about it at the table. I told him in complete respect that we were going to outright buy it, but now we couldn't cut a check for the new amount. Nothing more was said until he stormed into the dark room where Mom and I were watching a movie with the kids, showed me the Blue Book, walked away, and said he was keeping it. I was confounded and hurt that he would do such a thing the last night we were there and that it only comes once a year. In the back of my mind lurked the idea that we should have honored "the 3 day limit" rule. He continued his resolve as he did not speak to me again before he left out on his extended fishing trip that would see him home after our departure. Mom says it was a misunderstanding. I called him later to say, "Happy Father's Day". I'm glad we had reason to speak because words can be silent for far too long, but he acted as if nothing had happened, even asking me if I was sure about the car. What I'm not sure of is where he and I stand right now.
Mike got the call earlier on that there was a mistake with his rental and they needed it back the next morning. He was sick that evening and thankfully missed the events with my Dad. He also missed spending even a night with his parents. I'm glad he had squeeked in a visit with them and a couple of his friends. I worried that he headed out in the very early AM feeling sick, but I know he preferred the air of the night ride. He called later to say he'd found our only indoor pet (a cat), Fiona, so injured she was still and pitiful. He took her to the vet because there was a tear, a large portion of her back leg open and infected, requiring several stitches. He was beside himself that Tootsie had done it and insisted I find somewhere to give her away. After my exchange with Dad, the bad news really distracted me from the vacation. Yesterday morning, he said that he opened the door for Fiona, who is healing well, and she met Tootsie with a lick on the nose. He's sure that if the attack was from her that no such encounter would've taken place that morning. I can mark one more stress out of my life and keep my spunky, sometimes rambunctious, puppy.
My mother had to work every day since the weekend. The state simply does not allow the benefits they once did. The job that she does is indispensable, plus she was on call. My timing for the trip stunk but we didn't have much way around it. So Thursday morning before I woke the kids to straighten up to leave this portion of our trip, I sat in her garden drinking her vanilla coffee realizing I'd hardly had any real conversation with her but that her flowers spoke of her and her easy going, laid back demeanor - appreciator of simple things, so much so that she's hard to find a gift for because she demands so little.
Chagrin filled that otherwise serene setting as I thought of the unexplained behaviour of my father and that I was leaving in its dim light. Why do we overshadow special events with our personal affronts? I 've done it myself when I was younger out of jealousy or pride, but shouldn't we grow out of it as we come to understand the sweet memories we taint?
All packed in, we went to Mike's parents' to stay (only 15 or 20 minutes from mine) and I'd be remiss to say it was not a relief and I told them so. Mandy and the twins, Emily and Avery, were already there and ready to hit the pool. Since "Aunt Mandy and Uncle Gregg" had wisely opted for the country along with horses and 4 wheeling, they left their oft visited pool and self built cabana behind, so Memaw's friend graciously offered up their pool for an afternoon visit. The kids/waterbugs had a big ole time. Michael could still even do his flips off the board. He was learning to do back handsprings at the end of the girls' gymnastic class when we picked up and moved from the mountains.
Exhausted from pool games and wrestling, we piled the wetheads back in the cars to go help Memaw cook some of her signature dishes. She had already cooked the desserts and decided we could "test" them all that night. The lively talk with my funny sister in law and mother in law was just what I needed. Getting everyone to calm down and then bed down took a while, though. There is plenty of room for everyone there, but Michael has outgrown the foldout chair bed by a foot, but Macklynn won't sleep in that room by himself, so Michael "endured". He sleeps so hard, I'm not sure it mattered.
Friday morning we had already planned for Memaw to have some "quality" shopping time with the older girls. I decided to take the others to Sewell Park behind the high school I went to. We got close just in time to see the black clouds approaching. I went ahead and got gas so we could turn around. Just as the pump was finishing, I saw a disturbance across the parking lot. An old Jeep had a girl climb out to be met with another girl who pulled her long blonde hair out by the handfulls. But then, a man proceded to do the same and began pushing her around. I had one of the kids call 911 as I began to approach because the men around weren't moving fast enough. I guess he got a clue and his wimpy butt got scared, so he backed off. Me and my "sidekick" might've made front page news; instead, we retreated to outrun that storm. Thoughts of tornadoes were in my mind as we saw branches fall from trees and big trash cans knocked over, but we managed to stay ahead of the rain, making it to the safety of Memaw and Pop's house. We "rode out" the storm on their back porch, always a favorite place to be.
As it passed, the boys reminded me that it was a perfect time to fish. So, a jump, a hop, and a skip, and we were at Bubba's pond. Much to his delight, my avid fisherman, Macklynn, caught one within seconds of casting. It was kinda small as were all the other 10 he caught. He was unnerved when Michael caught a huge bass and did not want to leave no matter how good Memaw's BBQ was gonna be. I had to agree in part because watching the mist swirl around atop the water was hypnotizing. It came to mind that it was a "first" place for Mike and me. I've read that guilt follows sinisterly even with marriage of the 2 and creates the association of sin with "the act". I believe it and know that God has a lot of work to do on this hard-wired brain that is conditioned much like that of an animal. ALAS, a call from Memaw let us know to get it in gear. It was well worth it; she makes her own Brunswick stew, which was lapped up quickly. Bellies full, it was time to ...oh, I think that was the night I did the picture albums. It took me almost 3 hours because we had taken nearly 300 pictures. Some of kids still have the best ones on their own cameras, especially the one of Miranda in the back seat of the patrol car Megan had picked up for repairs. I think the fleeting idea of impersonating officers was grinned upon.
Saturday morning, we rose earlier than the others to watch Bubba's beautiful dimple-faced Jaynie play softball. We got to enjoy some temperate weather while talking with Renee and their other beautiful all American looking daughter, Sadie. While we were there, Madalynn finally got to play on a playground. She's not bashful to make new friends and got right to it. McKala and Melody got to see what year round ball is about and Michael, well, he must've been in heaven with athletic girls at every vantage point. Prior to leaving, we'd determined "Chick-a-la" (as Madalynn calls it) would be good. If we'd left any sooner, we'd missed the give a ways - free sandwiches for all - that is, if you can make it through the congested parking lot of one of the original "Dwarf Houses".
We left Macklynn sleeping at the house. Memaw thought it funny to tell him we'd left him and when he crawled under the bed and wouldn't come out, she realized it wasn't; so, she suggested Pop take him fishing all on his own - good quick thinking! When we got there, Miranda, Memaw, and Macklynn were playing his first game of Yahtzee. His second love is gameplaying, so he had no distress left whatsoever. We had one more round of swimming and not long after that, Megan took the boys to watch Avery's go-kart race. After dry clothing was dawned by all, I fell asleep on the floor with Madalynn, to wake to a face I've only seen on Facebook since 1989 or so. Denise Hope now Dollar took the time to ride over with her mother and daughter after a trip in from Alabama just to say hello. Soon, the girls and I took the pleasure of Memaw's mexican meal. She made the best guacamole I ever put my lips to and, yes, I came home with the recipe to be an ongoing Harper specialty. We already have the salsa nailed, so mexican IS on the grocery list for this week.
We drove down to Mandy and Gregg's at the lower end of the county to see the boys already shooting bottle rockets and lighting firecrackers and sparklers. They didn't waste any time getting on the 4 wheelers and pushing it to the edge, jumping and kicking up dirt. Megan got on with Madalynn and gave her a whirl. More "big" equipment showed up and just as I was about to take the little people in while the big people ratcheted it up a notch, an El Dorado was towed up the drive. Later explanation was that the V8 engine was being pulled for one of the Jeeps. Megan was interested in all this "mechanicing" and was not readily accepted by those GA Tech engineers 'til she showed them she knew what she was doing. And they kept on "doing" 'til 5 am. There are pictures of the kids spray painting and banging on the body of that thing after somebody used a plasma cutter to take off the roof. I missed it while I laid on the couch with Macklynn and Madalynn. Moms have to do that sometimes, so that the older ones can live it up. I was good with it, but put in an extra prayer that they were safe. When we drove to the back of the property to round up the redneck warriors, the El Dorado was running and headed toward the trails. In the night, I could hear the delight of grown men being boys. I have an affinity for manhood. I've resented the authority placed with it at times, but I do love the protection, adventure, and confidence of it.
Sunday morning was Father's Day and I had planned to leave early since I had already given Pop his new shirts (per request of Memaw tired of looking at the old ones), but drifting to sleep after 2 am didn't allow it. Instead I took it easy, giving last hugs of the trip to Memaw and Megan - a real trooper, staying up to 5 and still making it to go with Memaw to church. I took my coffee (which Memaw keeps for me since Pop can only have decaf) out to her garden, noticing how large the trees are from the time Mike and I started dating. He's given her several of the flowers since he's been hauling them the last couple of years. The kids love their goldfish pond and watching the cats move in and out the flowers. Their swing frame is covered in Jasmine which was just about to bloom. I smiled about the table and chairs, she'd thoughtfully bought and Pop had carefully tightened up for us, sitting in the garage behind me, waiting for an escort to North Carolina.
We crammed everything and everyone into the Sienna and went north. Thoughts ran rampant in my mind of blessings and concerns. It was the first Father's Day that we were separated from Mike. He found entertainment on the road by getting a glimpse of The Thunderbirds and then getting an invitation to have a meal with another Felgenhauer, one of the "northern" ones we've come to know fondly only by Facebook. By the grace of God, we had a safe return. The kids might miss the breakfasts as much as anything because I'm not a morning person. It won't be long before grandparents make their way to us in North Carolina for fall visits. It'll probably take them that long to recover from us, not from the mess because I think we're careful to stay tidy, but from the sound, the roar and activity of so many Harpers.
We've only been going once a year, so to walk into my parents' house in all its neatness and good smells is precious to me. There is a room, the "moose room", reserved just for the children, with 2 sets of bunk beds. Then there is the room painted in pale blue for Mike and me. Mom had used her overtime money to buy a new mattress for it and I slept like a girl who hadn't been to her Mom's in a year.
Saturday morning was spent preparing for a day on the lake with my Dad and his boat. While most of the kids piled in "Goliath" (his black extended cab F350 dually with a cover), my sister in law and 4 year old niece rode with me. It's a "good ways" to the lake, so we had much overdue "talk time". I asked her if they were in the "baby business" again and she quickly said, "No". I knew there was a problem and finally found answers as my brother called and she gave him quick replies trying to hide her emotion from me. He "doesn't love her anymore ...and thinks he never did". There, of course, is much more and he is demanding a divorce. I have a letter written for him that I've yet to mail. Funny, I've been blogging about this sorta thing all year and I'm sure he has no idea of it. I read an article while sitting here, at Wake Forest ER with Mike, that could be just what he needs to accompany my letter.
We always take out the 3 seater float and everyone was old enough to ride this year. The thrill comes when crossing the wake in a turn, pulling however many g's. My other sister in law and I tried it last year and it was all I could do to hold myself in. The kids just can't get enough of it. Megan met us after work and just as everyone got a turn, we heard the storm coming. Macklynn was good with that since it meant he'd get to fish under the bridge. We tied up in anticipation. The boys got the rods ready as the girls sat on the front watching the storm line approaching. The wind began to blow sideways. Dad dismissed my look of concern by saying he's seen much worse on his ocean excursions. The weather changed so dramatically that we all were cold and wrapped in towels. As the kids made the best of it by standing against the wind and flying the colors of the towels over their heads, I watched the other boats bail out one at a time. Yes, we were the last of 2 left and then as we finally pulled out, the storm broke. Anyway, too much sun was had and Grandmother had something good cooked up upon our return.
I'll interupt here to say that I'm sitting by the pond in the sand under the shade of a large Dogwood Tree watching Macklynn, Madalynn, and Trevor chase Tootsie back and forth in single file to rescue the frog she's caught from the pond. I thought I'd stop to take a dip with them but the clouds are slowly rolling in. The dragonflies and tiny lavender butterflies are swarming. I just spotted a Coneflower that has come back from last year and Smokey is right here faithfully guarding over us all. I love it out here.
Sunday afternoon was the wedding day of a cousin. After Mom's breakfast, the dressing up insued. The big girls came to the house ready and just in time to put clothes on the young ones as I finished ironing the piece each needed. Megan took her role back immediately as big sister and had the troups in order. Arriving at the wedding seemed more like a Facebook reunion than a family one. So many of the people we haven't seen in years, except with "social networking". The service was quaint and lovely; their grown children standing near. The preacher had profound things to say, one: "You may marry the right person but if you treat them wrong, it will the wrong person. You may marry the wrong person but if you treat them right, it will be the right person." He was stressing that love is not emotion but action. Several of the children said I made an audible noise - must've really hit me :)
Madalynn sat through the ceremony well enough, but was grumpy even after the pleasing food. So, she took her bubbles (for the exit of the couple) under the long tablecloth and stayed there for the longest. That was fine because Mandy, Mike's sister and I got to sit at ease for her to tell me about her and her husband's decision, while they were in Aruba - their first trip alone in years - to renew their vows on their 20th Anniversary and that we should prepare over the next 2 years for that overseas destination. We missed their first one, so this is something to look forward to. I couldn't help but think of the irony - that Mike's sister's relationship is on the polar end of my brother and his wife's.
Mike arrived on another rented Harley just as the wedding ended. It was the best he could do, exhausted from all the miles in the truck this year. Right now, I can't remember what we did that evening except that my Mom made every fried thing that our kids love most. Monday morning though, I slept in and Mike took Miranda for a ride, stopping at his high school and running into one of his coaches. They ate at the famed Sprayberry's and put into a side bag an order of onion rings and BBQ for me, which is a pretty good way to round out a day of bumming it.
Tuesday, Mike and I went on a tour of memory lane, sighting all the changes - places closed up and new ones opened. First though, we pulled out of Mom and Dad's to spot a work crew of Mike's closest friend, Bubba. Just so happens, they were on the phone with him about to meet for lunch. Just so happens, my old jeans ripped from the knee almost to the pocket before we got there so I created a strange posture to hide what is not my best feature. They got a kick out of witnessing my discomfort getting back on - one threatening to Youtube it. We ended up at the barber shop where he got his hair cut as a young man. The very same barber still works there, remembering that he had bought an attachment specifically for Mike's high and tight. I swiped the magazine I'd read through to cover my gaping hole and we reached his parents' house to wash his hair just in time to catch his Dad about to leave with a puzzled look as to ask why his daughter in law was wearing such a thing. Once we got back to Mom and Dad's, those favorite jeans met their final destination - the wooden trash can that Mike's Dad had made for them. My next oldest pair is on its way out, but I have better plans for them - a burning of something that should be too big by the time they are unwearable. Wish me fortune on that. I met fortune already in the little "incident" that hadn't taken place in over a year - the thing known as a quickie, which may seem too much to offer here but it speaks everything to the refounding of our marriage.
Tuesday night, my brother, his wife, Jennifer, and little Maggie were to come over for an early Father's Day gathering for my Dad. Problem was that I was still furious with my brother, not even having had a conversation about his plan to leave his family and the way in which he's going about it. Earlier Mike and his classmate/neighbor from elementary and middle school (yes, Facebook friends now) had spoken and planned to connect on his commute. Little did he know, his timing rescued me from a fallout with my brother at that civil seating we were to attend. We met "Mr." Felgenhauer at a busy Mexican place right off I-85. The chips and salsa were really fresh; the margaritas, some of the best I've had; listening to their conversation, priceless; and the Jimmy Buffett singer topped it off. We got back just in time to see my brother leave. I'd have felt bad but I asked my Dad if I could join him in some maintenance of his equipment that evening. He was excited to have someone excited about his entrepreneurship. He has a "regular" job as the shift manager of a large extrusion plant, but after years of trying several ventures, he hit on a productive one. He bought the equipment to recycle hydraulic fluid at the very plant he works at. It's working beautifully for him and provides excellent income. He showed me every part and its use. I felt like there were some real father/daughter moments.
Mike picked me up from there just in time to meet all the kids (but Madalynn) to see the late night showing of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" sequel. We rarely all go together anymore, especially with Megan in Georgia now. Being out late is right up our alley. We had the viewing to ourselves except for 2 other people and thoroughly enjoyed it. Afterwards, he and I rode through the square in Newnan, stopping to read the placards and liking the feeling of aloneness.
Wednesday, Miranda went to work with Megan. We gathered the rest of us up to meet them. For me, it was the first time I'd seen her on this kind of job, the thing she was trained for. She was uniformed and greasy, her pretty nails traced with black ...gray smudges on her face. Her coworkers seem to appreciate her and really hammed it up. It's been a good first experience for her. I have a feeling she's already looking for more. Average is something we've hoped the children will never be at peace with.
It was lunchtime and Longhorn was happily agreed on. We look like a party when we're all seated together. We were louder than Mike was comfortable with. Thankfully, it was midafternoon and no one cared. I especially didn't after my marvelous Long Island tea that the waitress had asked the bartender to "do up right". Thanks to Mike for the hard work that pays for a $200 meal.
Macklynn was the fortunate canditate to ride home on the back of the bike. He propped up his elbows like he owned the road for those 45 minutes. They made a pitstop to get Daddy a new wallet. Daddy let Macklynn pick out a thing or two of his own. When they got back, Mike presented me with a very nice fushcia "Pirate" inspired pea blouse. I should look more like Penelope Cruz for him; I know I haven't tried hard enough - to at least be Michelle "Cruz" ;)
The Facebook effect really hit home when I ran down to the corner store to buy milk because we had diminished Mom's supply. The girl I was behind in line looked really familiar. Come to find out, I had never laid eyes on her but am friends with her mother on Facebook, which is where I had seen numerous pictures of the girl. We both got a laugh out of it and went on our ways.
Things had moved along so smoothly that I was completely caught off guard with my Dad that evening. He had been in talks with Mike and Miranda about the purchase of his old Honda he drives to work. Some repairs were done so the price went up. For some reason, he asked me about it at the table. I told him in complete respect that we were going to outright buy it, but now we couldn't cut a check for the new amount. Nothing more was said until he stormed into the dark room where Mom and I were watching a movie with the kids, showed me the Blue Book, walked away, and said he was keeping it. I was confounded and hurt that he would do such a thing the last night we were there and that it only comes once a year. In the back of my mind lurked the idea that we should have honored "the 3 day limit" rule. He continued his resolve as he did not speak to me again before he left out on his extended fishing trip that would see him home after our departure. Mom says it was a misunderstanding. I called him later to say, "Happy Father's Day". I'm glad we had reason to speak because words can be silent for far too long, but he acted as if nothing had happened, even asking me if I was sure about the car. What I'm not sure of is where he and I stand right now.
Mike got the call earlier on that there was a mistake with his rental and they needed it back the next morning. He was sick that evening and thankfully missed the events with my Dad. He also missed spending even a night with his parents. I'm glad he had squeeked in a visit with them and a couple of his friends. I worried that he headed out in the very early AM feeling sick, but I know he preferred the air of the night ride. He called later to say he'd found our only indoor pet (a cat), Fiona, so injured she was still and pitiful. He took her to the vet because there was a tear, a large portion of her back leg open and infected, requiring several stitches. He was beside himself that Tootsie had done it and insisted I find somewhere to give her away. After my exchange with Dad, the bad news really distracted me from the vacation. Yesterday morning, he said that he opened the door for Fiona, who is healing well, and she met Tootsie with a lick on the nose. He's sure that if the attack was from her that no such encounter would've taken place that morning. I can mark one more stress out of my life and keep my spunky, sometimes rambunctious, puppy.
My mother had to work every day since the weekend. The state simply does not allow the benefits they once did. The job that she does is indispensable, plus she was on call. My timing for the trip stunk but we didn't have much way around it. So Thursday morning before I woke the kids to straighten up to leave this portion of our trip, I sat in her garden drinking her vanilla coffee realizing I'd hardly had any real conversation with her but that her flowers spoke of her and her easy going, laid back demeanor - appreciator of simple things, so much so that she's hard to find a gift for because she demands so little.
Chagrin filled that otherwise serene setting as I thought of the unexplained behaviour of my father and that I was leaving in its dim light. Why do we overshadow special events with our personal affronts? I 've done it myself when I was younger out of jealousy or pride, but shouldn't we grow out of it as we come to understand the sweet memories we taint?
All packed in, we went to Mike's parents' to stay (only 15 or 20 minutes from mine) and I'd be remiss to say it was not a relief and I told them so. Mandy and the twins, Emily and Avery, were already there and ready to hit the pool. Since "Aunt Mandy and Uncle Gregg" had wisely opted for the country along with horses and 4 wheeling, they left their oft visited pool and self built cabana behind, so Memaw's friend graciously offered up their pool for an afternoon visit. The kids/waterbugs had a big ole time. Michael could still even do his flips off the board. He was learning to do back handsprings at the end of the girls' gymnastic class when we picked up and moved from the mountains.
Exhausted from pool games and wrestling, we piled the wetheads back in the cars to go help Memaw cook some of her signature dishes. She had already cooked the desserts and decided we could "test" them all that night. The lively talk with my funny sister in law and mother in law was just what I needed. Getting everyone to calm down and then bed down took a while, though. There is plenty of room for everyone there, but Michael has outgrown the foldout chair bed by a foot, but Macklynn won't sleep in that room by himself, so Michael "endured". He sleeps so hard, I'm not sure it mattered.
Friday morning we had already planned for Memaw to have some "quality" shopping time with the older girls. I decided to take the others to Sewell Park behind the high school I went to. We got close just in time to see the black clouds approaching. I went ahead and got gas so we could turn around. Just as the pump was finishing, I saw a disturbance across the parking lot. An old Jeep had a girl climb out to be met with another girl who pulled her long blonde hair out by the handfulls. But then, a man proceded to do the same and began pushing her around. I had one of the kids call 911 as I began to approach because the men around weren't moving fast enough. I guess he got a clue and his wimpy butt got scared, so he backed off. Me and my "sidekick" might've made front page news; instead, we retreated to outrun that storm. Thoughts of tornadoes were in my mind as we saw branches fall from trees and big trash cans knocked over, but we managed to stay ahead of the rain, making it to the safety of Memaw and Pop's house. We "rode out" the storm on their back porch, always a favorite place to be.
As it passed, the boys reminded me that it was a perfect time to fish. So, a jump, a hop, and a skip, and we were at Bubba's pond. Much to his delight, my avid fisherman, Macklynn, caught one within seconds of casting. It was kinda small as were all the other 10 he caught. He was unnerved when Michael caught a huge bass and did not want to leave no matter how good Memaw's BBQ was gonna be. I had to agree in part because watching the mist swirl around atop the water was hypnotizing. It came to mind that it was a "first" place for Mike and me. I've read that guilt follows sinisterly even with marriage of the 2 and creates the association of sin with "the act". I believe it and know that God has a lot of work to do on this hard-wired brain that is conditioned much like that of an animal. ALAS, a call from Memaw let us know to get it in gear. It was well worth it; she makes her own Brunswick stew, which was lapped up quickly. Bellies full, it was time to ...oh, I think that was the night I did the picture albums. It took me almost 3 hours because we had taken nearly 300 pictures. Some of kids still have the best ones on their own cameras, especially the one of Miranda in the back seat of the patrol car Megan had picked up for repairs. I think the fleeting idea of impersonating officers was grinned upon.
Saturday morning, we rose earlier than the others to watch Bubba's beautiful dimple-faced Jaynie play softball. We got to enjoy some temperate weather while talking with Renee and their other beautiful all American looking daughter, Sadie. While we were there, Madalynn finally got to play on a playground. She's not bashful to make new friends and got right to it. McKala and Melody got to see what year round ball is about and Michael, well, he must've been in heaven with athletic girls at every vantage point. Prior to leaving, we'd determined "Chick-a-la" (as Madalynn calls it) would be good. If we'd left any sooner, we'd missed the give a ways - free sandwiches for all - that is, if you can make it through the congested parking lot of one of the original "Dwarf Houses".
We left Macklynn sleeping at the house. Memaw thought it funny to tell him we'd left him and when he crawled under the bed and wouldn't come out, she realized it wasn't; so, she suggested Pop take him fishing all on his own - good quick thinking! When we got there, Miranda, Memaw, and Macklynn were playing his first game of Yahtzee. His second love is gameplaying, so he had no distress left whatsoever. We had one more round of swimming and not long after that, Megan took the boys to watch Avery's go-kart race. After dry clothing was dawned by all, I fell asleep on the floor with Madalynn, to wake to a face I've only seen on Facebook since 1989 or so. Denise Hope now Dollar took the time to ride over with her mother and daughter after a trip in from Alabama just to say hello. Soon, the girls and I took the pleasure of Memaw's mexican meal. She made the best guacamole I ever put my lips to and, yes, I came home with the recipe to be an ongoing Harper specialty. We already have the salsa nailed, so mexican IS on the grocery list for this week.
We drove down to Mandy and Gregg's at the lower end of the county to see the boys already shooting bottle rockets and lighting firecrackers and sparklers. They didn't waste any time getting on the 4 wheelers and pushing it to the edge, jumping and kicking up dirt. Megan got on with Madalynn and gave her a whirl. More "big" equipment showed up and just as I was about to take the little people in while the big people ratcheted it up a notch, an El Dorado was towed up the drive. Later explanation was that the V8 engine was being pulled for one of the Jeeps. Megan was interested in all this "mechanicing" and was not readily accepted by those GA Tech engineers 'til she showed them she knew what she was doing. And they kept on "doing" 'til 5 am. There are pictures of the kids spray painting and banging on the body of that thing after somebody used a plasma cutter to take off the roof. I missed it while I laid on the couch with Macklynn and Madalynn. Moms have to do that sometimes, so that the older ones can live it up. I was good with it, but put in an extra prayer that they were safe. When we drove to the back of the property to round up the redneck warriors, the El Dorado was running and headed toward the trails. In the night, I could hear the delight of grown men being boys. I have an affinity for manhood. I've resented the authority placed with it at times, but I do love the protection, adventure, and confidence of it.
Sunday morning was Father's Day and I had planned to leave early since I had already given Pop his new shirts (per request of Memaw tired of looking at the old ones), but drifting to sleep after 2 am didn't allow it. Instead I took it easy, giving last hugs of the trip to Memaw and Megan - a real trooper, staying up to 5 and still making it to go with Memaw to church. I took my coffee (which Memaw keeps for me since Pop can only have decaf) out to her garden, noticing how large the trees are from the time Mike and I started dating. He's given her several of the flowers since he's been hauling them the last couple of years. The kids love their goldfish pond and watching the cats move in and out the flowers. Their swing frame is covered in Jasmine which was just about to bloom. I smiled about the table and chairs, she'd thoughtfully bought and Pop had carefully tightened up for us, sitting in the garage behind me, waiting for an escort to North Carolina.
We crammed everything and everyone into the Sienna and went north. Thoughts ran rampant in my mind of blessings and concerns. It was the first Father's Day that we were separated from Mike. He found entertainment on the road by getting a glimpse of The Thunderbirds and then getting an invitation to have a meal with another Felgenhauer, one of the "northern" ones we've come to know fondly only by Facebook. By the grace of God, we had a safe return. The kids might miss the breakfasts as much as anything because I'm not a morning person. It won't be long before grandparents make their way to us in North Carolina for fall visits. It'll probably take them that long to recover from us, not from the mess because I think we're careful to stay tidy, but from the sound, the roar and activity of so many Harpers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)