peanuts

My oldest niece graduates from college next week. This past weekend was her last college musical, and it was none other than "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown". For those who didn't know, I've been an avid Peanuts fan since I was 8 years old. The following photos are from Welch College's facebook page, showing Em singing "Suppertime". Yes, she was Snoopy. :)  Her younger sister, who is a junior, is the one in red.

Of all the parts she had, I think "Suppertime" was one of my top two favorites. (The other was the scene involving Crabby Lucy.)  We crammed a LOT into this weekend trip, but hopefully I can post more pictures this weekend.

boring excitement

Last evening we got home more than a little late from church (and stopping to get gas and pick up a pizza), and while I'm throwing slices on a plate, Bobby returns a phone call from the answering machine. Turns out a family friend who walks our road regularly spotted a "box" that had jewelry in it on the side of the road, and he picked up the jewelry, thinking it might be mine from the robbery last summer. We wolfed down our food and headed over, only to find out it wasn't. It really wasn't a big surprise. A box of your jewelry isn't likely to turn up on the side of the road seven months after it's taken. So this morning I called our investigator and left her a message. I didn't really know who else to call. (Have you ever seen how many phone numbers/departments there are for the county?) She forwarded the information on to the proper person, and he came out to pick up the jewelry and go look for the box. I hope they can identify who it belongs to and return it to her. So many times we would say "If we could just get this back, it would be nice." What may be junk jewelry to someone else is the  earrings your 11 year old brother saved up his allowance to buy as he gave you one of the few presents he's ever given you in his lifetime. And that jewelry box that looks like a hundred others?  To its owner it represents her first Christmas as a married person.

So all this is running through my mind and I'm hoping that the jewelry will actually make it back to its owner as I'm waiting on a police car, and then I realize how routine this is. Unlike television, there's no flashing lights (not that I have neighbors to see them), no drama, just a simple explanation, presentation of drivers license and signing of an evidence form, with constant interruptions from a dog who is sniffing of the officer, his gun, his cuffs, his shoes, his pants, his car, and I'm hoping he doesn't start sniffing the man's behind, which is one of Buster's favorite things to do.  How's that for handing over what we think is stolen jewelry?

I think our county officers often don't get the attention they deserve. People who live in cities don't realize the vast amount of territory these officers have to cover. And I'm appreciative of both the fact that we've not needed them a whole lot, but when we have, they have been very professional and done what they could. Unlike the Wake county school system, the Sherriff's Department more than earns my tax dollars.

life is never boring.

In the words of Charles Dickens: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

You know how sometimes you get that burst of energy and you get a lot of stuff done and you're feeling on top of the world? Most of last week was like that. I love those kinds of week.  We were planning to do something on Saturday and I was actually on top of housework so that could happen (gasp!), and then things started to get a little crazy. 

Thursday night Bobby found a war movie about the holocaust on tv.  While I'm not crazy about the holocaust, I do think it's a somewhat good thing for us to be reminded of the importance of taking a stand against evil. But for those of you who know me, I don't handle war/violent movies very well.  I can seldom sleep after watching them, and when I do sleep it's full of nightmares. We're 3/4 of the way through this movie, which I stupidly keep watching in between loads of laundry and sweeping/mopping floors, when out of the corner of my eye comes this image that terrifies me like nothing else in this world. And Bobby doesn't even see it!  I stand near the kitchen corner, aghast, watching the television and the ceramic piggy bank, desperately hoping I was wrong, when the flurrying nightmare comes scampering back and into the back hallway. By this point I'm crying.

I suppose I should interrupt and tell you that my mother-in-law, who is also a mouse hater, finds it really funny that I can kill a snake, I can slam a spider, swat a fly, spray an insect nest, or shoot at a coyote/fox/wild dog and chase off a raccoon with a broom or an opossum with a shovel, BUT I cannot face a mouse.

So about 1am Friday morning, I'm listening to my husband's breathing, trying not to think about the varmint that has invaded my house and stolen my peace, trying not to think about evil and the movie, trying to remember a Bible verse in my fuzzied brain and only remembering "What time I am afraid I will trust in thee. Psalm 56:3" and telling myself I'm a grown-up now and it's time to suck-it-up and contemplating borrowing a cat from a friend and all the damage it would do to the house when I finally got to sleep.

To make a long story short, I've only been in my sewing room 2x as opposed to spending my planned hour in there Friday, the trap caught the mouse about midnight Saturday, and all my mental pep-talks to myself on how I was going to be a big girl and get the mouse out of the trap went out the window Sunday morning when my wonderful, adoring husband told me to just take the dustpan, scoop the whole thing up, and throw the entire thing in the trash. I did; I cried; and he laughed at me when I made him put part of the newspaper over our open trash can so I didn't have to look at it any more. I know it came from the hallway; I know it did not make it to the kitchen, but I have NO idea where it got in the house. And that unnerves me.

Meanwhile, our chicken saga continues, but in the sakes of giving this already too long post an ending, that part of the story will have to wait until tomorrow.

Day #7

No, today is not the day of rest.  Today is the day for kicking things into high gear. Today begins the countdown for The Great Trip. Today I'm adding all kinds of interesting things to my "to do" list in anticipation of this trip that we're taking. I hope.
One of the things that I LOVE to tease my husband about is his allergies to my home state. It seldom fails. We head to the promised land of my past, and his van breaks down, one of us gets sick, something happens here that makes us wonder whether or not we should have stayed home, and so on.  But I think this trip is going to win the award for the most obstacles thrown in its path.
Obstacle number one: vehicular.  I think most of you know we placed an order for a new van several months ago. It was to be ready the end of October, at the absolute latest. We are now a few weeks past that date, and no potential arrival time in sight.  We do know that the "fix" is in the works by the manufacturer, that the windshield wipers and two other things are not working properly until this fix happens, but have no word as to when the "fix" is anticipated.  So we are now contemplating options.  Do we travel in a well-worn van that has about 200,000 miles on it and likes to flash notices such as "SERVICE ENGINE" in glaring red letters that the mechanics can't figure out WHY the light is on (but the van is liable to stop and refuse to start)?  Do I unplug the chair and throw my husband in the front of my car and drive, hence punishing myself to pushing a manual chair up my parents' steep driveway (to get upstairs where the kitchen and everyone else is), and later face the wrath of my better half? Or do we pray the van is ready on Friday and Bobby miraculously adjusts to all the new gears and such within two days and instantly feels at ease (which has NEVER happened) so that we hit the interstate at our regular ungodly travel time on Monday?
Obstacle number 2: health concerns.  Long distance travel is never body friendly. It does strange things to muscles and organs. It prompts infections of various sorts, or at least seems too.  So this year, instead of having just ONE health ailment to consider, we are facing TWO.  Huh?  Yeah, I know.  A bit of overkill.  But either way, that's what it is.  So I'm calling one doctor this morning and will visit another in hopes of answers and potential solutions.  I mean, there is the possibility that all this can be cured BEFORE travel time, right?  Hey, a girl can dream!
Obstacle number 3: scheduling.  This time of year is always notorious for scheduling conflicts.  It almost rivals summertime. We normally go to bed (or at least the driver does) very early the night before leaving. Otherwise leaving at aforementioned ungodly hour has the potential to be disastrous. Somehow we've allowed our schedule to be a little tight the evening prior to departure. And I'm having serious debates with myself about "just saying no" and putting my foot down. In the meantime, my goal is to do as much as I can beforehand (though not knowing which vehicle we're taking throws a kink in knowing how to pack).

None of these obstacles are overly daunting or difficult.  But I long for the day when I can simply pull out my checklist, throw things in the suitcase, and we ride off into the ribbonned road and sunny skies. Maybe that will happen next spring when we vacation there. :)

here we/I go again

A year ago a friend approached me with an idea she had. I told her idea was a LOT of work and left it at that. Since that time she has mentioned it twice. Then last week she brought it up AGAIN and even threw out a bit of a challenge: she wanted me to help write her idea or else teach her how to do it. Again, I told her how much work this idea was, how much time was involved, and how it would require working a bare minimum of 3 months in advance, six months preferably, blah, blah , blah.

So Sunday morning, when I should have really been focusing on the message in the Easter drama, my brain kicks into overdrive and I find myself thinking of various plot lines, focal points, and potential stage designs. In other words, her idea, despite my protests, has taken root in my brain. I've even decided what the next/first step of action for us is.

Creativity is a wonderful thing. It can also be a bit scary and overwhelming. At this point I don't want to go into a lot of details as we're still in the planning/praying stages, but I'm asking you to join me in praying for three things during the remainder of this month:

1. that God will give us the same message/idea
2. for wisdom in choosing a format
3. for God to begin pulling the right people together if this is to be a reality

Meanwhile, our April calendar is quickly filling. Perhaps May will be a little calmer. Perhaps.