A Kind Hearted Boy

It's been a long time since a little boy has drawn a picture for me. But, tonight one did.

At Young Traveler's tonight we put together snowglobes. For the inside, there was a choice of a walrus, a seal, a penguin or a snowman. The kids loved them. They got to fill the jar up with water, add a few drops of glycerin and a scoop of white, silver and blue glitter. We glued the lid on (painted a lovely metallic blue) and used blue duct tape for an extra tight seal. A blue piece of ribbon held a snowflake name tag in place.
It didn't take some of the kids long at all to finish the project, so we had rubber stamps of a penguin and snowflakes and they happily went to work creating their own version of the Antarctic.

When our time was up, Richard handed me his paper. He said "I made this for you". It was a picture of penguins swirling in a snow storm. One lone snowman stood among them, his scarf blowing in the wind.

I believe this was Richard's first week at Young Traveler's. If he came before, I don't remember him. He sat by me, and was very happy to get the last penguin for his snowglobe. He also asked me to tell him exactly what went into the snowglobe, as he wanted to tell his mom how to make them. She would be sure, he told me, to want to make them with the Girl Scouts.

Richard had an annoying little sister with him, but he was always kind and thoughtful to her (although he didn't give her the last penguin, just explained that the walrus was really great too).

Richard is going into the fifth grade. He is thin and blonde with brown eyes. He is well behaved and kind hearted.

Whenever I start to think that there is not much good in people, God passes a 'Richard' by me, and seems to say "There! Did you see my boy Richard? In him I am well please!"

I have to go get the picture and hang it on my fridge. I need to be reminded of what is good in this world. And why.

Five Months Until Christmas

The alarm went off this morning, and I turned to my husband and said "Have I been in a coma?". For some reason, the radio station was playing Christmas music. I didn't find it funny. Odd yes, but funny, no.

Truly, there are only five months until Christmas. Do you have your lists made, have you checked them twice? Do you know who's naughty and nice?

I have a lot of raw materials on hand for making things. But, I have few gifts actually completed.

I did order a book which arrived on Saturday. It's the sixth Christmas book from Gooseberry Patch. In it I've found several more things to start working on.

Today, I'm doing all the prep work for the snowglobes we are making for Young Traveler's. Our destination is Antarctica, so we have penguins, seals and walrus' (yes, there are SOMETIMES walrus' there). We've also made some really cute little polymer clay snowmen. I've gotten some ideas for other things that would work well in a snowglobes, so as soon as I can put my 'craft mom' smock away, I will start working on these for gifts.

So, run along now, and get busy! You will be so glad in a mere five months that you listened to me!

Young Travelers

At the church I attend, we are having six weeks of Wednesday night vacation Bible school this summer. It is called Young Travelers.

This isn't a purchased curriculum, although we have used those with much success in the past. But, this one was designed by the incredibly creative people at my church.

Each week we get our passport stamped, board an airplane (yes, it really does look like we are boarding an airplane) and get off at a different destination. The first week it was the Rain Forest. The second week, Hawaii.

I'm the craft lady. My daughter and a friend are also helping me.

Our first week, Rain Forest week, we made rain sticks. We cut 36" heavy cardboard tubes in half, filled them with twisted strands of tin foil and some raffia and added rice and split peas. They were closed at both ends with brown duct tape, and then drawn on with marker to look like a stick.

Our second week, we made our version of petroglyphs. This was even more fun than I had thought it would be. Daughter and I made a frame around watercolor paper with black duct tape. Then, the kids drew a stick figure of themselves with white crayon, and added around them things that represented them. No one else could see what they were drawing (the youngest kids used a pale apricot or yellow crayon) until we painted over them with watercolor - then the wax resist became visible. It was so insightful, as these kids came to us from so many different places, and we really got to know them through their drawings.

I cannot tell you any of the other week's destinations, or I would have to be killed. Or so I've been told. It's all a big secret.

I love doing this, but I am SO tired...ZZZzzz...

My Day Off

Oldest Son and Daughter-in-law made it safely home to Illinois yesterday evening. http://oxfordblues.blogspot.com

I took yesterday off. My sister came to town and we went to our favorite Chinese place for lunch, and to two great thrift shops.

This is what I got:

Two storage receptacles. One big enough to hold all of my alphabet stamp sets. Now I have them in drawers by the letter and number, instead of by the set. So it's much more convenient. I love to organize things. I have trouble KEEPING things organized, so we will see how this goes. Usually, I think of a better way, and then have no more respect for how I've done it. If I can't respect it, I can't use it. (it's such a burden to be complicated.)

Two Scrabble mugs and One Scrabble alphabet soup bowl. These are just too cool. Coffee actually does taste better in my new Scrabble mug. Haven't tried soup yet.

One large white swan planter, which I believe is McCoy pottery. I haven't looked it up yet. This is my biggest swan planter so far, and has a place of honor in front of the fireplace. I do believe that all the other swan planters let out a gasp at this one's greatness, but I can't be sure.

One great wooden box. It's original purpose was to hold tea, but I am going to add it to my pile of 'really cool wooden boxes I intend to decoupage someday'.

Seven infant sleepers. Teeny tiny cute little sleepers. All in gender neutral colors. All less than one dollar. My boys wore this size for only a few days, but hopeful Daughter won't have the super-sized version of a baby.

Books were again only 10 cents for paper backs and 25 cents for hardcovers. I got eight books. Some for reading, some for using the pictures to decoupage, and one just to HAVE because it is gorgeous. For a mere quarter I got a 1900 copy of Abraham Kuyper's "Zijn Uitgang Te Jeruzalem". Of course, it is in Dutch, and I do not read Dutch, but the cover was so beautiful that I could not pass it up. It will also find a place of honor in my living room, although I will have to demote some other worthy book to make room. I also got a Miss Read, a M. L'Engle and several great children's books.

You would not believe how much stuff I put back. Really. I put a lot of stuff back. I did. Good stuff. So good, that if it is still there on Saturday, I will probably buy it then.

I might be complicated, but my tastes are very simple. I like junque.

Update on Oldest Son

Today was the doctor's appointment. Everything looked as it should. He has a plate, and TEN pins. TEN.

On the return trip into the house, a very painful fall took place (twice), and he developed a 101+ temp. this afternoon, but by tonight, everything is doing well.

Tomorrow, they head for home and further healing in Illinois.

Thank you for caring. I very much apprectiate it!

Prayer for Oldest Son

Today I got one of those phone calls today that no one likes to get.

"There's been an accident."

Oldest Son took a bad fall on a waterslide at camp and broke his leg, above the ankle, in three places. Two spiral breaks and one vertical.

He was taken to a small hospital in a town 'up north' and had surgery late this afternoon. He now has a plate and three screws in his leg.

Daughter-in-law and her mother were able to fight frightening traffic around Chicago to get here by nine tonight.

When we left, Oldest Son was resting somewhat comfortably in a drug induced fog.

So much for random summer thoughts.

Random Summer Thoughts

It is very hot and humid in my corner of the world. I do not like it. Heat and humidity cause my shaky-at-best mental capacity to short out, leaving me in a murky brain fog. And, to top it off, I have a headache. Consequently, my thoughts are even more random than usual.

Random Summer Thought #1 - While having lunch in Kalamazoo last week with my sisters, I got to wondering why there isn't 'super hero' underpants for people our age (mid 40's - mid 50's). There could be Oprah and Dr. Phil underpants, those would go over big with some people. The religious book stores could sell Billy Graham underpants, or Rick Warren. On the 'Wild at Heart' theme, there could be a David loin cloth for those guys. Even a line of mink underpants, with Adam and Eve in mind. The 'Laughing Sarah' panty-liner for those a bit older would probably sell well also.

RST #2 - Craft projects for children. Is it the finished product that is important, or the process? I used to think it was the finished product, but my thinking has shifted (or, quite possibly quit altogether) and I now believe the true benefit is in the process. Or, is this just an excuse? I have about 30 million 'processes' going on around here, and little along the lines of completion to show for it.

RST #3 - How are our brains being effected by all of the wireless technology happening all around us? I can't quite blame all of my mental fatigue on heat, humidity, heft and hormones.

RST #4 - If everyone in the entire world suddenly came around to MY way of thinking and MY way of doing things, the world would still would not be a perfect place. So much for drumming up converts to my way.

RST #5 - One can make a pretty good giant-sized sunflower with trash-picked foam and junk from around the house (at least this one can).

RST #6 - Shouldn't we be hopeful that the world can become a better place, and in our lifetime? Doomsday is evil, and I'm not going to sit around waiting for it to happen.

RST #7 - I can't even grow weeds. Really. I can't. I planted zinneas, which I was told are a 'weed' to serious gardeners, as they grow like them. NOTHING came up. NOTHING. I do have serious looking thistles coming up all over. These grow to about six feet, and have interesting looking purple/blue flowers. I can't pull them up, as they also have deadly spikes growing out of every leaf and the stem.

RST #8 - I baked my cookies on the kitchen counter, and put them in the 350 degree oven to cool.

RST #9 - Last night I talked to someone with only one hobby. I wish she had two. I wish it was a hobby of teaching a class on how to have only one hobby. Hers is music, particularly piano. Mine are playing the piano, gluing stuff, altering boxes, making cards, thrift shopping, antique shopping, calligraphy, crocheting, reading blogs, writing, reading, collecting books, and those are just the hobbies that are surrounding me at my dining room table at the moment. I would add 'teaching classes to those who want to succeed at having more than one hobby' but, I'm not qualified.

RST #10 - I really like Blue popsicles. Orange ones are a waste. Red and Purple do in a pinch, but really, in my world it is all about Blue. I do so like blue food. Blue Moon ice cream is my favorite, and I love blue Sweet Tarts. Yesterday I put three what I thought were blue Sweet Tarts into my mouth at the same time, and discovered much to my surprise that they were some SICK candy known as Shock Tarts. These things caused an overwhelming amount of saliva to form in my throat and I nearly choked to death. You can even ask my sister, as she walked in the door as I was gasping for air.

This ends today's installment of Random Summer Thoughts. I have things to glue...um...I mean...DO.

Things Like This Are Always Happening to Me

Last night I spent a leisurely evening alone sitting in front of the tv watching my favorite shows on PBS. Ahh. It felt so good. So bone-numbingly boring good. Just me, my air-conditioner, a stack of magazines, Oldest Son's laptop, my faithful dog and - cat? Where is my kitty, I wonder?

I called for him, and he didn't come. He ALWAYS comes when I call him. I thought that perhaps I had locked him out in the backyard. I opened the back door and called him. He didn't come.

I called him in my best 'it's time to eat' voice, and still, no kitty. I checked upstairs. No kitty there, either.

This led me to wander through the house, listening intently for his voice. What? Is that a faint meow I hear? As I approached the sound, I noticed a horrible odor.

Now, you must understand that noticing a horrible odor isn't all that unusual in the area I live, which is rather close to a sewage treatment plant which tends to pour forth disgusting odors into the night air quite frequently on warm, humid summer evenings.

Oh, were it only THAT simple. As I followed the faint meows, the smell increased.

Approaching my front entry area, I noticed a sad cat face pressed against the french door. I also could tell before opening the door exactly where that odor was coming from.

Poor kitty. He must have followed me out when I lock the front door, and had become trapped in the entry. He also must have had a terrible stomach ache. TERRIBLE. Unable to reach his litter in the basement, kitty was left with no choice.

I quickly cleaned up the mess. But had you thought that would be the end of this boring story, you are wrong, my friend.

Kitty had a new appendage, wagging from his behind. Instantly I thought of one of my favorite authors, Fannie Flagg, as my kitty definitely had one of those. Not an author, but a 'fanny flag'.

Now, were The Husband God Gave Me at home, he would have known exactly what to do. He once extracted several feet of thread from another kitty of ours. He did this by simple stepping on the exposed thread as the kitty ran down the steps. Imagine sort of a full body 'cat floss'. But, THGGM was not here. I had to be brave, and act alone.

Quickly, the kitty who was at first so happy to see me, didn't relish having a mad woman with a wad of papertowel in a plastic grocery bag chasing him around. Let's say that he waved his 'fanny flag' with great pomp at his circumstance.

By closing doors, I was finally able to corner him. I'm sure he also realized that it was after dark, and time for the putting away of the flag. I was able to grab the flag as it flew by. I disposed of it with little ceremony.

Kitty took a long bath, while I sat staring into space, again left to wonder 'why me?'.

(note to THGGM - the grass in the backyard needs to be mowed)

One Year Later

One warm summer day last July, Daughter and I were having coffee. Our dogs played happily together in my backyard.

Being the very aware type of person that she is, she immediately noticed a change in the barking of her dog. We went to investigate. My old little Westie came walking in the door, but Max wouldn't come for anything. That's because he HAD something.

As Daughter approached, it became obvious that what he had was alive. Upon further investigation, she called back to me that it was a baby 'possum.

She threw two of her Youngest brother's shoes at Max, and also a tennis racket. Finally, he dropped the 'possum, but it was no longer moving.

She dragged her large and proud puppy into the house, and then went back to check on the 'baby'. Once she called it THAT, I knew it was going to be a LONG day.

Daughter has the ability to snap to action when action is required. Unlike me, who has the ability to stare into space wondering 'why me'?

She called Son-in-law who told her to finished it off by whacking it on the head with a shovel. That abruptly ended that conversation.

She called out directives to me, and I tried to respond as quickly as possible. Daughter carefully picked it up in an old towel, and placed it carefully in a laundry basket on our front porch. We called a nature center that we used to frequent, and they were not able to take it. But, they gave us a number of a woman in the city who takes wild animals. She wasn't able to have us drop it off until 5:30. Daughter wasn't speaking to her puppy at this time, and devoted the better part of the day checking her 'baby' for signs of life. She gave it water and kept it covered, even counting it's breaths.

When the time came, Daughter and I drove through the city during rush hour. All I could think was "I'm riding in a car with a baby 'possum!"

Somewhere, in the center of the city, lives a man and a woman who have devoted their lifes to rehabilitating wild animals. As we approached their yard, we were met by a menagerie of animals. Geese and ducks in various stages of healing, pygmy goats and other furry things.

The woman took us into her kitchen, lifted the 'possum out of it's wraps and set it on her kitchen table. Small cages were everywhere. She placed Daughter's 'possum into one of these cages, and Daughter filled out some paper work, left a donation and said her goodbyes.

We will never know what happened to the baby 'possum. But last night on the local Fox News at 10, this woman and her husband were featured. They showed boxes of baby geese, tiny ducklings and a box full of baby 'possums that they are presently caring for.

I wish them well.

If you knew about my prior experiences with 'possums, you would KNOW what a stretch it was for me to be a part of the rescue of one.

My Daughter will make a fabulous mother. Oh...and Son-in-law will make a great dad too, even though he suggested that she whack the 'possum.

Giving Back Change

I have an idea. This one is based on purchases made with cash. One buys something totaling $83.79, pays with a hundred dollar bill, and is given back change. How much, I'm not sure, as I hate math.

But, I do like words, and here is my idea.

Lets give back change for those conversations when entirely too many words are given.

Like

Um

Though

You know

I was like, then she was like, then we were like

Let's give back all profanity also. Reflect it back as if wearing a shield against it.

All tongues could use a good red pen.

If only people were more penny-pinching with words.

"Like, um, you know, it would be hard to enforce though." Please pull ahead to the second window.

And I return your 'like', 'um', 'you know', and 'though'.

The Heart Beat

Yesterday, Daughter and Son-in-law went to the doctor. They were kind enough to let The Husband God Gave Me come along too (i was in kalamazoo with my sisters).

They HEARD it. The actual beating of the beloved baby's heart. The minute the doctor put the stethescope to Daughter, the room filled with the wonderful sound of 'bambambambambambambambambam'.

I know this, because Son-in-law recorded it on his cell phone for me. I've heard it several times now. It's a wonderful sound.

Wonderful.

Cleaning, Eaves Dropping and Remembering

I've spent the afternoon rearranging all of my stuff in my art loft. It serves several purposes, has no closet, and is undeniably a huge mess.

I use the room for rubber-stamping and drawing cards. Also, for making shadow boxes, and doing decoupage. I use it for storing books too. There are three book cases, and piles and piles of books all over the floor. This room also stores my sewing machine, material, patterns, and baskets and baskets full of yarn. And anything else I find interesting. Which means that there is a lot of stuff that doesn't fall into any sort of category, causing me to get all out of sorts and itchy.

It isn't too hot today, so it was a good time for me to get in there. I turned on the attic fan and opened some windows. It wasn't all that bad.

It's interesting what one hears when one is working by a window. Five neighborhood kids were playing out in the parking lot. Four boys and one girl. Apparently they had decided to play house, as I heard the girl announce that she was going to be the mom. One boy called out to be the dad, and then a very interesting conversation took place among the other three boys. What were THEY going to be? One of them finally took charge, and this is what he came up with. "I'll be the ex-husband, you can be the boyfriend, and you can be the 21 year old son who still lives at home".

The dialog as they played kept getting more and more interesting. The scenes they played out involved the mom always fighting with the ex-husband on the telephone. Usually about money, or about how he had to stop hitting the kids. The 21 year old had a car, and they fought about that too.

How different from when I played house. My friend Betty and I used to fight over who got to be the dad (it went to whichever one of us had the shortest hair at the time - there was a SEVERE shortage of boys in the old neighborhood). One of the Three Pam's in the neighborhood usually was the mom. The neighbors behind us had 5 girls, and where usually more than happy to loan us a few. I never wanted to be the mom, as I knew what MY mom did all day. She worked HARD around the house. My dad left in a car and brought with him a really cool black lunch pail. So, being the dad meant that I got to ride my bike around the neighborhood until the work whistle blew.

Even though we had to have females play the roll of the dad, we clearly had a dad. And real live children and dolls for babies - the more the merrier. Although I know that some of my friends had dad's who screamed and yelled at them, we all knew that wasn't how it was supposed to be. We all had dads. Dads who we ran to when they got home from work. We all had moms who were mostly at home. If they weren't, an aunt or grandma or older sibling was always around to protect and defend us. Nobody I knew had a mom with an ex-husband. Or a boyfriend. And at 21, no brothers still hung around the house arguing about who got the car.

The Husband God Gave Me never knew his father. His mother had three ex-husbands and at times, boyfriends. But, he always knew it wasn't right.

I don't think the kids playing in the parking lot know this.

It's sad.

My Kids

Oldest Son and Youngest Son spent the holiday weekend with us. It was great fun.

They don't get to see each other often, as Oldest Son is now married and lives in Illinois. Youngest Son has been working all year at a camp about a 45 minute drive from here (i do believe that ALL there is 'up north' in michigan are camps!). Oldest Son was a counselor for many years at this same camp.

They are both working there this week, along with Their Cousin. It is Mentally Impaired week at camp. The campers range in age from teenagers to those in their 70's. This is an intensive and tiring week, but one they all find to be the most enjoyable week of the summer.

Daughter worked Mentally Impaired week as a counselor just once. The stories that they tell from MI week are incredible. These campers are truly precious to them.

A few years back, Daughter and I were eating in a restaurant. At a table across the room sat an elderly woman and her mentally impaired son. Daughter wasn't facing them, but I noticed that this man would look at her, and smile, look at her, and smile, look at her, and smile. Finally, I asked her if she knew him. She looked, and yes, she did! She went over to talk to him, and he and his mother both lit up like fireflies! He remembered her from camp, and she remembered him. I do believe that two mothers were happy that day.

Daughter tells other stories, about trying to get 70 year old 'girls' dressed and out of the showers. How their feelings aren't much different at all from hers. How sad it was for her to learn that those with seven year old minds must live with all the functions of an adult female body.

Apparently, the best part is listening to them sing. Simple songs about how God loves them. How He made them, takes care of them, and will somehow, someday make them well.

I'm very proud of my kids. I could not do this. I could not chase around naked 70 year olds who are refusing to shower. I couldn't get up several times in the middle of the night to get 'kids' to the potty. Or, fix things when they don't make it in time. But, they can, and they LOVE it.

I could learn a lot from my kids.