HEY BUSTER, IT'S TIME FOR ICE CREAM

This evening we're joining a group of friends for a "It's Too Hot To Cook" dinner.  Everybody is bringing a favorite dish that they did NOT cook.  (It's 102 degrees here AGAIN!)

I'm bringing BUSTER BAR to the gathering.  It's a "cool me from the inside out" kind of recipe and requires NO COOKING.  This treat doesn't happen often at our house because it has about 832 calories per bite.

 Here's the scoop (pun intended!)

Crunch up one package of Oreo cookies (food processor will work), save  out one cup of the crushed cookies and mix the rest with 1 stick of melted butter.

Pat that down in the bottom of  a  9 x 13 glass cake pan, or whatever size you like.
Sprinkle peanuts on top of the black crust.  Use as many or as few as you can stand.
On top of the peanuts spoon on 1 gallon of vanilla ice cream that you've left out on the counter to melt a little. (I use two half gallon cartons of Blue Bell Homemade vanilla, because the Blue Bell factory is about 2 miles from our house and I LOVE that place!)

Pour one whole jar of hot fudge sauce on top of the ice cream.  Make some pretty pattern as your pour, just for fun. Lick your fingers!
Pour one whole jar of Carmel topping on top of that.  Ditto with the pattern. Lick your fingers again.
FREEZE until the melted ice cream is hard again.  I put it in the freezer overnight.

Pull it out of the freezer and cover the top with Cool Whip, as thick as you like it to be.
Sprinkle the cup of crunched up Oreos on top of the cool whip just to make it pretty...and WA-LA!!....it is ready!

I'm going to put the whole thing in a cooler with some ice packs around it, just so it doesn't turn to ice cream  soup before we get to our friends house.

Get ready for compliments...and after dinner make a vow to "get back on the diet" TOMORROW!

FIRST HAIRCUT

A first haircut is a mighty big deal!  It usually happens when a little boy is two or three years old.

Tiki is seven. 

Because his life in the United States began just a year and a half ago, other issues were a priority.  Things like sitting in a chair, eating out of his own plate and learning English received top priority.  (He spoke only French and "Kenyarwandan" for the first years of his life at the orphanage in Rwanda.) 

Acquiring a mom and dad, four siblings, a bed of his own and all the food he'd ever dreamed of were adjustments enough.   Until this week.

His family came to Broken Arrow to visit us (his  very Caucasian grandparents) and while  he was here it was decided that it was time for a professional "do."  His mom was thinking maybe some stripes over his ears or something decorative along his neck like the football players enjoy.  His very tightly wound itty bitty knotted curls were a challenge that the "weak of heart" barber would not be able to trim.

Neighbors recommended "Hair Studio" at 81st and Aspen.  It was perfect!

The folks there took a look and knew exactly what to do.  Tiki squirmed as the owner combed, brushed and buzzed his head to achieve a managable look.  His attempt to be brave was stellar. What a great memory! 

Another hurdle successfully conquered.  There will be plenty more to jump, but for now, he's focusing on first grade, looking good!

TALKING DOWN THE HIGHWAY

I  have a few super duper brave friends that are gracious enough to ride shotgun.  They agree to road trips that take us into the "unknown."  Because I am often invited to speak at various women's events, sometimes in Texas, Missouri, Arkansas, Kansas or Oklahoma it means I need to be in my car for long hours at a time. (Once in a while it's an airplane if the venue is far, far away.)

My friends Janet, Laura, Sheila and Deanna are the faithful buds. I invite them along and if it's physically possible at all one of them  will consent.  A couple of these ladies have heard my talks  so many times THEY could give them more effectively I'm sure! 

When we hit the road I know that I'm in for a GOOD TIME!  Telling stories, sharing joys, heartaches, successes, failures, dreams fulfilled and  dreams dashed are all shared.  World problems and local skirmishes are all resolved in my big red truck. By the time we've arrived at our destination we know each others birth weight. A tear or two might be shed over a past heartache but raucous laughter is the usual response. TALKING is a recreational sport and we're Olympians!  SO much wisdom is tossed around while speeding down the road.  Rarely do we listen to music or the radio talk shows.  That would be too distracting!

(We're waiting for someone to ASK us our opinions about world peace and prosperity, or to be notified of our candidacy for the Pulitzer Price but alas, no interest yet!)

Sometimes we stop along the way to visit an antique store, a McDonald's, or a pit stop at a gas station.  More often than not it's a pullover to ask for directions because regardless of all the maps and GPS systems available I still get turned around.  (It's a family trait, neither Andy or I can find our way out of the driveway.  Honeybuns and Philip could get to Tinbuktu if you pointed them in the right direction.)

Recently I was made aware of a situation with many young people.  YEP, they are having trouble in social situations because they don't know how to navigate conversation. Evidently our wonderfully brilliant technology has isolated our teens into a world of texting code words, "tweeting " ideas within a word limit or one sentence e-mails.  Even though everyone has a phone those devices are rarely used for TALKING! Rare is the young person that can actually look an adult in the eye and carry on a meaningful discussion.

Time with tell whether this will be a  handicap in future employment or relationships.  It could be that by the time these kids are grown they won't have to talk at all. Technology will be such that they'll just THINK a thought and it will be electronically relayed to the other person's brain.  Perhaps the  whole GenX, GenY and generations following them will all agree that conversational skills are highly overrated and no one will care!

Personally I think much is accomplished by talking and listening!  Isn't that why counselors and psychologists are in such demand?

 I've heard of a business called "Rent-A-Friend" where you can pay for someone to listen to you talk! It can get expensive.

 I've read that the '"ladies of the evening" spend most of their working hours just lending a sympathetic ear.

One popular author suggested telling all your troubles to someone that doesn't speak your language. Safety there!

Evidently there is a great need  and I have the solution!   Just come ride along with me and my friends.  We'll show you how it's done.

When we're back home safe and sound we vow to each other to "forget everything that was said and/or heard."  The next time we load up my truck the stories are all fresh and new and funny again! (I love having friends my age, every day is a new day, every road is a new road, and every story is a new story, even if they've  already heard it 3-4 times.)

Yes, young person, you're invited.  Come sit beside me and hear a tale or two.  It may seem old fashioned, but you'll be surprised at the improvement in your social skills AND mental health!

IT'S DANGEROUS TO BE A GIRL

WARNING: I'm on a soapbox!

Celina Cass, age 11, was found  this week in a river in New Hampshire, not far from her home. The search for her has consumed the TV screens this week.  The police are still investigating and will no doubt unravel this horrific crime. The culprit will be arrested and brought to justice.

It would be bad enough if Celina were the only statistic this year, but she represents THOUSANDS of missing girls.  Her picture has been on the TV  channels and her town has come out enmasse to search for her.  MOST little girls don't have that kind of support from the media or their community.  They just go missing, and a few family members grieve and get angry and live out the rest of their empty lives wondering "what happened?"
The many studies by law enforcement and focus groups bring new numbers almost daily and they are staggering. Celina's story is one of THOUSANDS in the United States.

Yes, it is dangerous to be a girl in America.  Bigger, stronger, and  very evil adults have the upper hand, literally! Often it's a family member that betrays their trust, sometimes a family friend, and once in a while it's a stranger.  Force, fraud and coercion are the tools they use.  

We have shouted "stranger danger" for years ignoring the very real "relationship danger" aspect. Dads, uncles, brothers, friends of babysitters and sometimes boyfriends of mom are the very people that live near and have access to vulnerable and helpless little girls. The crime crosses all socio-economic groups and hides behind public pretense. Because of their age little girls are not certain when they should shout "HELP." Family loyalties keep them silent, too. 

Every DAY there are  several articles in the Tulsa World about harm done to a child. This week a mother goes to trial for placing her tiny baby girl in a washing machine and turning it on.  A principle from a nearby town has been arrested for abusing a little girl and murdering a boy! It goes on and on!

It makes me want to build a gilded cage, put my grandchildren inside it and then put a lid on.  I have oftened wondered what I would do if one of my granddaughters were harmed.  Forgiveness would be impossible and I'm sure I would demand or even administer justice, and willingly go to jail or even death row for  my crime.

How do we protect our children without scaring them to death or causing such paranoia that they're afraid to live and enjoy life?
How do we warn them without taking away their childhood?
How did we get to this place in our history? 

Why or how could ANYONE harm a child?

Celina's story is a reminder that EVIL exists. 

How does a nation confront EVIL? 

Maybe one home at a time.   I wonder if someone knew Celina was in some kind of danger before she went missing and for whatever reason decided to NOT speak up.

RAIN DANCE

It's time to get serious now!  Another day of over 100 degrees here in OK!  The forecast for next week looks even hotter. Weather records are about to be shattered all over the heartland.  Trees, flowers and grass all over the area are scorching and my potted plants require  hourly care.  Our water bill is soaring and there's rumors of water rationing in the coming weeks.

Now there's family talk of the whole tribe moving to Colorado by next summer!

Thank God for A/C. 

We need a good, slow, settled in for a day or two, RAIN! 

I'm calling on all my family and friends to begin now to dance for  RAIN!  Surely the steps can't be that difficult and it's worth a try.  Perhaps some dancers in the area can give us a tip or two.

 One, two, three, four...one, two, three, four,  I think I've got it.  If I can keep my right foot off my left
big toe and remain upright  in the process, we should be seeing those thunderclouds building up in the west any minute now.

Surely a rain dance can't be as hard as Zumba, the Texas two-step, Swing, or the Electric Slide!

There was a time I could dance and feel the beat! That was about 1965 and in the privacy of my own bedroom with the "stereo" blasting.   Then came the Beatles, MoTown and Herman's Hermits.    I don't remember any drought back then. The rain came steady and often.  The flora and fauna smiled through pleasant summer days.

That's the solution.  The baby boomers need to put on their dancing shoes and get with it.   There's enough of us to cause the earth to move under our feet, the world to spin around, as we all come tumbling, tumbling down!  I predict a great effect on the gulf stream, the high pressure dome and La Ninya!

Babyboomers!  Thunderboomers!  Yes, I see the connection.

We're having a slow, HOT, Sunday afternoon. Can you tell?

OPERATION DING DONG

It happens every summer!  Teens and pre-teens, looking for something exciting to do, sneak out after their parents have gone to bed, roam the neighborhood and take turns ringing random doorbells.  Last year it made us furious because we had elderly neighbors who were not only awakened by the early morning noise, but also frightened.  (They have since moved to Idaho.)

This year the ring-a-ding doos are funnier!  The kids have been ringing our doorbell  occasionally between 2-3 a.m.   It's a little startling, but it's very effective at giving us the wide-awakes INSTANTLY!  I usually get up, take a peek out the window and see them racing off to the house next door to see if they can stir anybody awake there. They have no idea I'm watching and laughing.

I'm positive that the parents have NO IDEA this is going on.  They're having a real exciting time, racing across lawns and the golf course in the middle of the night.  They might be 14-15 years old, young boys making some memories.  It'll stop once school starts.

BUT....tonight OPERATION DING DONG goes into effect.  IF they decide to visit us tonight, Wing-Ding (that would be me!) is supposed to distract them  (???) so Ding-Dong (that would be Honeybuns) can quickly get his black cat burglar outfit on and slip out the back door.  He thinks he can "tail" the youngsters back to their house without being seen.  He plans to wait until they slip back into their home and bide his time hiding in the bushes.  After 15-20 minutes he plans to boldly walk up to the front door, ring the doorbell and surprise the PARENTS .  He will then explain his purpose in waking them up in the wee hours. While all this is happening,  I (Wing-Ding) is supposed to be waiting with my phone in hand  attempting to wake up  our neighborhood security man, aka Barney Fife.  I will tell him that Ding is on the hunt and  that he should drive around  the area looking for a tall man dressed in black following a group of teens.

I can't wait!  I hope they choose our house tonight!  We need to make some hot summertime memories, too. 
I have just a few hours to plan the DISTRACTION!

Maybe I'll just make some cookies and invite them in for a midnight snack!  Or better yet, I'll go buy some DING DONGS!
They'll LOVE IT!

RAISE THE CEILING?

This news junkie is getting a little weary!  Debit ceiling?  Cap, trade, balance?  Taxes?  Blah, Blah, Blah!  It's getting a little old, Washington.  The political shenanigans are important in DC but here in the heartland the folks can see through that fog with crystal clear glasses.  It's all about who's going to get elected next time! I'm tuning it out for a while.  Maybe I'll check back in when or IF they decide to get serious about our national finances. 

We HAVE a debt ceiling at our house.   It's called NONE!  Nope!  Nada!  It's labeled the  "save it until you can pay for it" mantra. Capitol Hill  tried to copy us a few years ago and coined the phrase "pay as you go." No one there actually adheres to that policy but it sounded good for a while.

Our ceiling has  been in place for years.  (I'm am very grateful and humbled that "by God's grace" and through His unexplainable love and protection we can hold the line!  Tomorrow's circumstances might change everything but for now it's working!)

SO,  the argument over debt ceiling is a little mundane.  BUT the national conversation HAS sparked those creative bones within me.

YEP... I'm thinking we're going to raise the ceiling.  NOT the debt ceiling, but our living room ceiling!  Why not?  Can you see it?

I have visions! 

We could clean out the attic, jack up the rafters, and lift that thing 10 feet!  The project would involve new brick siding, longer windows, replacing the heating and A/C pipes and vent, new insulation, paint, and of course pictures to decorate the new higher walls.  A skylight might be nice.  The labor alone would help spark new construction jobs here on our street! Talk about progress!

When the dust settles we could sit in our recliners and stare upward.  Perhaps in a couple of years we could repeat the whole project and raise it AGAIN, another 10 feet or perhaps even 20!   There is NO LIMIT  to what we could do!

LIVING WITHOUT A  CEILING LIMIT!  Wow, now that's a thought! A dream! A worthy goal!

Having no line item in OUR budget for a new higher ceiling, I'm thinking we'll have to poll the neighbors and levy a tax on their income so we can begin.  We'll  convince them that OUR project is good  for the city. I'm positive this will work!

Now, I'm going to go have a cup of tea.

WHITE WATER RAFTING

 CAMP KIVU, CO is the most wonderful place to be when it's 107 degrees in OK! 

And rafting down the Animas River in the middle of Durango adds to the pleasure.

The whole kit-n-kaboodle went!  Andy loaded up the equipment, Jamie loaded up the Fab5 and we headed out for high adventure.

I was confident this would be a good day!

UNTIL....we got the blue boat IN the river and Andy started giving some

directions as to how this whole ride would proceed.   He seriously taught us, "If you sit in the

 middle of the boat you're less likely to fall out."    WHAT?  Fall out?  That's wasn't part

of my dream day floating down the river.  Then, "When I say paddle, DO IT, and don't stop."   OK, got that one!   The one that got me thinking that MAYBE this whole idea was a mistake was when he shouted out, "GET READY TO RESCUE!"     Everybody above the age of 4 grabbed an oar, tucked their feet into the sides of the boat for "fall out prevention" and we took off.  We were snug as a bug in a blue plastic rug!  The first couple of miles were uneventful,  a family enjoying the sun on the river.    THEN the rapids appeared on the horizon.  Andy started "instructing" again. Evidently if our boat were to get stuck in a whirlpool we were in danger of being sucked under, to where I wondered.  "IF you fall out, point your feet downstream and just float, we'll come and pick you up." (Feet first protects the head from rocks!)   WHAT?  How's a 59 yr old woman supposed to get her feet pointed in said direction?  I was doing good just holding on with my cramping feet SECURELY tucked INSIDE that boat! Now I had to point them downstream?  And how was I supposed to keep my wits when   that freezing cold water threatened to "suck me under."    After a few attempts of trying to bump BeBe out of the boat and laughing about it,  I TRIED to convince the whole lot that our goal of the day was to KEEP BEBE IN THE BOAT, high and dry!  We rode over rocks and Titanic sized waves, soaking me and Papa to the bone.  (That WAS the intention of putting us in the FRONT of the boat!)   The big kids jumped overboard and did a little splashing around at the quieter parts of the stream.  The little kids held on wide-eyed, not sure exactly what their guardians of protection were about to do to them!  We approached "SMELTER" the BIG RAPIDS,  known for upsetting the most experienced rafters on the river.  

"GET READY TO RESCUE!"

Gabby was re-situated onto the floor and we all held onto our oars with a death grip.  Only those yellow paddles sinking deep into that water would save us now!

Andy yelled and we paddled with all our might.   I didn't know until later that he also yelled, "WE'RE GOING TO TIP OVER."   Hearing that in the middle of  trying to survive would NOT have helped the situation!

The water rose higher than our heads, the boat dipped downward  FAST and we paddled furiously.  Talk about FOCUS! 

After a while....PURE JOY!  We  were soaked but we made it!  The water calmed!  THANK GOD the littles were still IN the boat!  I was  alive! 

Everybody was smiling and laughing and shouting,  "LET'S DO IT AGAIN!"

Thank you Andy and Jamie for SUCH a good time.

It's a great day when you look DEATH right in the face and conquer it!   What a memory!  We'll be talking about it for years!

PRICELESS!

                                                                                                                   

RACIAL EQUALITY

Me, "Line up kids, let's take a picture."
Dax, "I'll get in the middle, let's make an OREO!"

Sure enough, the sweet white center is flanked by the  two black fabulous bookends!
An OREO! How funny is that!  How remarkable!

These three know of no racial problems whatsoever!  They are best buddies that play together,  take naps together, eat together,  &  share toys (or not!)  They are inseparable because they love each other AND because they are siblings!  There is no doubt that they will grow up NOT colorblind but color-acceptable.  It makes absolutely no difference to them what color of skin one happens to be sporting!

Reminds me of the old song, "Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world."

Not everyone can sing it!  Andy and Jamie tell stories of times they walk into restaurants and receive stares of obvious disgust.  They've been laughed at, pointed to and sent to far corners of establishments in order to be out of sight.  At one recent place someone actually came over to their table to TAKE A PICTURE ! (I wonder what those folks plan to do with THAT snapshot!)

Even though the "BranerPartyof 7" is aware of  the prejudices around them they don't let it affect their lives. They embrace the opportunites to model love and acceptance.  Before adopting two children from Rwanda became a reality those opportunities were not even considered.  The motive was simply to give two  lonely  little children a home.

Soon Dax, Tiki and Gabby will become aware that some folks are not kind.  They will have to learn how to respond to bigotry and deep seated hatred.  Their parents will prepare them and they will be strong!   Sometimes Daddy will ask Gabby, "Baby girl! Why are you so black?"  And in her high pitched sweet little girl voice with a smile on her face, she replies loudly, "Because GOD made me that way!"

You bet HE did , sweetheart and HE makes no mistakes. I love it!

These two blacks and that one white child are being taught to judge folks by the "content of  character" rather than color, nationality or ethic background.  (Thanks Martin, I love that phrase!)

CONTENT OF CHARACTER!  That's all that really matters,  isn't it?

I'm thinking that racial equality in America WILL become a reality one day.  AND just maybe these THREE will have a part in making it happen.  Perhaps the rest of us will learn a thing or two or three  -  from them.

SCHOOL PROJECT

Gracie is going to first grade at Providence  Christian School in Dallas this fall.  It's a wonderful place to be and she's already spent a year of kindergarten there.  The school's mantra is "parents and grandparents must be the child's primary teachers." I was very impressed by the teachers, administrators, and atmosphere of the campus when I visited them this past spring.

All first graders are to participate in a summer project before school starts.  Each one is to choose a grown-up to help them make something to share with their new class. Presentation boards complete with pictures of the process and the finished items will be on display at Grandparents Day in October.

Gracie chose to make a quilt for her American Girl Doll! She chose ME to help that idea become a reality. What an honor!

So, in addition to the regular activities of BeBe Camp, sewing and quilting class was added.  We went to the local quilt shop, picked out fabric, spent time cutting it into squares and hearts and proceeded to put it all back together.

What a good time!  It only took a couple of days to finish the project.

We've learned much in the process.  Gracie learned how to operate a very grown up dangerous machine, the meaning and techniques of sewing and quilting and the pain of pins sticking in your fingers. She knows the terms batting, seam ripper, bobbin and zig-zag. 

 I learned that she LOVES fabrics, colors and the thrill of creativity.

At one time she actually vocalized the words of frustration that millions of quilters have  at one time stated, "I have so many ideas, I'll never get all my quilts made!'  Now her favorite thing to do is to go into the sewing room and "practice" sewing straight lines all by herself.  She can do it!!!  She has made stacks of fabrics with themes and all color coordinated.  Everyone she knows has been thoughtfully chosen to receive one of her  future creations. She's determined to cover the world with patchwork, fat quarters and 100 % cotton.

It's official.  This week, A QUILTER WAS BORN!  She's going back home with the goal of convincing her Daddy to buy her a sewing machine just like BeBe's.  She wants a sewing room added to their house and thinks she knows a contractor that can build BeBe a Quilt Shop just like Mama Bear's of Berenstein Bear fame.  The girl has PLANS!

She is so proud of her accomplishment.  I'm stunned! Who could have predicted this? 

That ancient art of quilting has been passed on to a new generation!

What a good time!

IT'S A HONKER!

We have a family term for BIG, OVERSIZED,  or HUMONGEOUS!  It started several years ago when Gracie looked up at Papa and wanted to know what that thing was he had in his hand. It was one of those super-duper flashlights!  He replied, "THIS, Gracie is the honker!" Ever since that day the HONKER has been called upon for all sorts of dark emergencies.

Thus the term!  Anything that is larger than normal is described as a Honker.  (Hopefully that words has NO vulgar slang connotations.)

This year Gracie  (age 6) and Mollie  (age 4) arrived at BeBe camp with their very own TENT.  Evidently they have outgrown the simple green-plastic-in-the-house Magic Tent that has served several Braner grands very well. They wanted the real deal this year, a grown up tent assembled OUTSIDE!

After putting them off because of over 100 degree temperatures for several days the time had come.  After a long day of airplane work Papa agreed to assemble the tent last night.  WHAT AN ORDEAL!  The directions said, SIMPLE!  He begs to disagree!

After a few banged thumbs, flying tent poles and much frustrations, the tent appeared.  IT IS A HONKER!  It's a two room complete with patio and furniture dwelling!  (The thermometer read ONLY 89 degrees.)  He assembled two cots, ran drop cords for two fans and and blew up one blow-up mattress while I sprayed the whole back yard with the super-duper Mosquito fog. We unfolded comfy chairs, lit the bug bucket candles and plopped the American flag down at the entrance.  Anticipaton was high adventure.

When all tempers cooled down we fired up the grill and made s'mores!  Can't have a camping trip without those, you know!  Laughter, squeels and giggles prevailed. I'm sure the neighbors were entertained!

Finally after a  quick dip in the blow-up pool, drenching Papa and everything within a 50 yard radius, it was time to choose spots for the night.

Papa chose the  A/C king-sized INSIDE the house  bed with the flimsy excuse that he had to go to work the next morning!  The girls and I settled into the tent, zipped her up all around, read a Berenstein Bear book and turned off the HONKER of a flashlight.  

They fell asleep and I stayed awake.  I wondered about the Tulsa ax murderer (fiction), the nearby registered sex offenders (non-fiction), Big Foot (debatable fiction), skunks, armadillos and snakes!  Honeybuns assured me that a snake could NOT unzip the front entrance!

I watched them sleep.

We made it through the night.  They are feeling great today and I'm needing a nap!

Tonight will be a different tale, it's Papa's turn to brave the elements.

All in all, it was a HONKER of a good time, and a HONKER of a great memory!

TEX-MEX BORDER

I just returned from a whirlwind trip to South Texas!  It is a different world,  full of palm trees, orange groves and some of the finest people that have ever lived.  My brain is full of beautiful faces and wonderful memories. I have enough material for many "Sister Chats." 

Both my Christmas card list and my heart have been enlarged by the new friendships  that formed so quickly but promise to last for a long time. My new pals and I are already exchanging e-mails, pictures and playing games together on our iphones!

I was there at the invitation of some women's groups that coordinated their meetings with my schedule.  My job was to show up where they told me to be, stand where they told me to stand and  then give an inspirational talk. They had it all worked out as new faces shuttled me from one place to another, from one home to another for night after night.   The whole plan worked beautifully and I cherish the memory.

In addition to that very positive lovely experience,  I  also had the privilege of also LISTENING to several hundred folks representing  all aspects of that colorful culture.

It was an educational experience of our US immigration issues.

 I met and stayed one night with a beautiful elderly couple that owns an orange grove seven miles from the Mexican border. That ranch has been their life for over thirty years, they raised four sons there. Now the owner frequently finds trash left behind under his citrus trees by illegals trying to brave the searing heat, waiting on a "pick-up."  He sadly explained that some don't make it and die from exposure to the harsh weather.

I heard the story of a teenager girl that had been seduced so her baby would be the "anchor baby" that would guarantee the boys family a smooth entrance into the land of the FREE.  It almost worked and would have if the American grandparents had not been willing to fight through the American courts for that child for YEARS.
I heard stories of massacres, kidnappings and drug battles that spill over into  Mexican border neighborhoods.  The possibility of being kidnapped is very real for those that have a little money.

Another lovely couple that invited me to their home for a night gave me a tour of the town near their home.  It reeked of Human Trafficking, everywhere I looked.  They stated that no one is safe in that particular area as I wished we would just move on down the road.

One business woman told how the criminals assimilate into the culture by buying high end condos and owning businesses right alongside legal enterprises.  They've got a lot of money.  She shared, "they're everywhere."

Another shared of overhearing conversations in her store of drug runners making plans to "pick-up" illegals at hot spots down the road.

Lovely Hispanics that went through the immigration process and have lived in America legally for a long time told of their anger and frustration toward those that gain access to free health care and college educations by breaking the law.

One beautiful long time resident of Brownsville described the border fence.  It's a JOKE, her words.  It is not complete, never will be.  It has huge gaps all along the line AND businesses file for and pay for a "variance" which means their property is exempt and the fence is NOT built on their property, hence another opening!  In other places the fence is placed right up against the back wall of a house!  She shook her head as she stated,  "The politicians and the rest of America don't have a clue.  Their heads are in the sand." All  I could think of was the amount of money that has been wasted on that JOKE. (Another case of governmental efficiency!)

 I was so overwhelmed by what I was hearing that I found myself wishing that SOMEONE would report what the people that live there are actually thinking and saying. Then I realized that SOMEONE was me! 

Here goes.  These quotes are the voice of the people that live on our southern Texas border. 

"People that don't live here have no idea what is truly happening."

"The mayors and the folks of the Chamber of Commerce don't want anyone to know the truth. It would harm tourism. No one would want to come here to visit or live."
"We had a mayor for a while that absolutely would not allow anything negative about our area to be published in the newspapers or put on the TV."

"A drug cartel battle broke out recently and bullets were found at the University of Texas, Brownsville." (A BEAUTIFUL campus I might add!)
"No one goes over the border into Mexico now to shop, it's too dangerous.  The economy over there has been destroyed."

"A young youth pastor took a bunch of kids into Mexico on a mission trip,  some were kidnapped, some killed.  He was sure that all he needed to do was pray and they would be safe."

"No city in Mexico is safe,  they just found mass graves in Acapulco."
"Mass graves are being discovered on the Mexican side all the time."

"After one recent battle it was reported that 60 people were killed.  In truth, the number was 250."

"There are places where the  fence is actually built on the other side of ranches, leaving American property unprotected.  The farm is actually located between the river and the fence. The owners have to drive around the thing to get home. Once there, they're on their own even though they are on American ground."

"We understand that people want to come here for a better life, but can America support everyone in the world? Health care and college education is offered free, while WE have to pay for those things."

"All nationalities cross illegally not just the Hispanics.  Anyone and everyone (terrorists) can come on in. It's an open door."

"Tons of drugs are confiscated at the check-point daily.  No one knows how much actually gets through!"

"If it were humanly possible we would get out of here." (I heard that SEVERAL times.)
"Our family is staying, we will not surrender Texas to Mexico. I refuse to learn Spanish" (I heard that only ONCE.)

"A while back an official of Mexico vowed  to take back Texas without firing a single shot.  They've almost accomplished it."

"When we moved here I was sure I was coming to a third world country."
"I love it here.  We live on Padre Island." (Resort area.)

"We have wonderful Hispanic neighbors and friends.  They're citizens and have lived here a long time."
"97% of the population is Hispanic."
"Downtown Brownsville is a glimpse of Mexico. There are only Mexican businesses there now."

"We are living the life of Chicago in the 30's as these drug lords battle over turf."

Everywhere I went I asked the same question, "what is the solution?"  I got the same response.  It was always a look to the ground, a shaking of the head and these words,  "I don't know."  There is such a sense of hopelessness.  I asked if anyone thought that putting troops on the border would help. No response. 

One very intelligent local politician replied,  "We're going to have to defend ourselves. It's the new normal."  His wife's real estate business had been robbed that very day.  He was heading out to personally find the two laptops that were taken!  His friend encouraged ME to take the  proper training and buy a gun!

It's the Wild, Wild West all over again!  Isn't the number one purpose of our government to protect the American people?  Isn't that why we even HAVE a military staffed with America's finest and bravest young people?
 I've heard that  most places in Washington DC are perfectly safe.

I LOVE FOODIES

I have several foodies in my life and it's great! I love to watch them!  Foodies are people that enjoy food to the max!  My sister is one, my dear friend in Houston is included, as well as are several distant family members and close-by me  OK friends and I love them dearly.   They talk about,  read about,  compare, buy, chop, braise, broil, grill, bake and puree all kinds of edible delicacies.  There are tons of magazines, books, websites, TV shows, Cruises,  and recipe cards they find to investigate this hobby.  Today there are French foodies, Italian foodies, contests, and apps for the iphone.  There are many high-end, low-end and in-between-end stores that support the cause, as well as whole universities that teach the culinary arts. Let's not even BEGIN to list different types  and qualitites of restaurants!

Whole Foods and Central Market are the temples of food.  I once counted twenty-six different types of red apples at Central Market in Plano, TX.  I went to the grand opening of that store, hoping I would discover the fascination.  The crowd was fun and the atmosphere was exciting but alas, it was just food, after all!

My sister almost faints at the entrance of Sam's.  So much food, many beautiful pans, utensils and spice racks to investigate and life is so short!

So, how is it that I got left out of all the fun?  Same thing with coffee!  People that drink coffee LOVE it, travel far distances to obtain just the right bean, cup and maker.  Although I never learned to drink it, the smell is fabulous,  and I always feel that I'm missing something very precious when I enter Starbucs and NOBODY knows my name.   Hours and hours are spent daily enjoying JOE.  I don't get it, I wish I did!!  It's a culture worth cultivating!

NOW, don't get me wrong. I love to eat!  I could do THAT all day long.  And I'm a fairly good cook. 

 Honeybuns has this unbelievable habit of wanting dinner EVERY NIGHT!  What's with that?  DINNER?  What's wrong with a peanut butter sandwich or a boiled egg?  Cooking is SUCH a daily thing!  Couldn't we just declare a moratorium from it for a week or so?

And so I confess:  I am just as happy with a super plain bologna sandwich as a seven course-served on fine china-cooked to perfection-wine included meal!  There I said it!  I'm not proud of that statement! I'm a freak of nature!  I know NO ONE that sees meals as I do.

You'd think that my apathy for food, food preparation, and food investigation would mean I'm super-model skinney.  Nope, can't go there!

Is there a Twelve Step Program for me?  I WANT to be a FOODIE!

I think I'll go check out the Williams-Sonoma sale.  Yes, that's it, I just need some INSPIRATION!

WATCHING GABBY GROW

What happens at BeBe's house.....get's broadcast to the world!!  

Gabby spent 4 days with us this past week and....well, the pictures tell the tale.  There are nothing but smiles on this precious little ones' face when she's here. (and on ours I might add)  We ADORE this little cutie.  Gabby is FIR here, she used to be FREE but since her birthday she's FIR!   She loves being a GOIL (vs. being a boy) and all that entails.  At BeBe and PaPa's house that means she gets to be "Queen of the World," a powerful position she doesn't have to  share when she comes alone!


Balloon animals from ihop!



Making cookies!






Learning to drive!



 If this is not sheer idolatry, I don't know the definition.  It goes both ways. When Papa is around I'm chopped liver. She's got him wrapped around that tiny black finger.



Riding the Binford 2000



 

When Gabby is here we BECOME four years old as well. The world as we know it stops turning and we experience a magical land of innocence and imagination.  It's a refreshing place to be! 

10 Puppets

Gabby is one of NINE Braner kids!  We are SO blessed by each wonderful unique personality.  Watching them grow is the finest use of our time.  They have no idea how much they are loved.

"Grandchildren are the reason to have children."  Me

"Grandchildren are the reason parents don't eat their young."  Bumper Sticker

OBNOXIOUS CHRISTIANS

WARNING:  I'm on a soapbox!

Book Review:  Speaking of Jesus, the art of not-evangelism by Carl Medearis

I just finished this book!  And it is eye-opening!  Mr. Medearis, in his gentle way, offers an explanation as to why Christians are SO offensive and he also suggests a solution.  I recommend this to all who ask the question, "Why are Christians ranked right up there with enemies of the state,  terrorists, and  hateful fear-mongering-filled-with-phobias unloving people?"  You've got to admit, Christians have received nothing but ridicule over the past years from the  very people we're called to help and encourage. Great comedians, politicians, artists,  and writers  have made us a laughing stock and the subject of late night jokes.

 Some folks declare that  this type of "persecution" comes with the territory and we should wear it proudly.  Carl (and I) think that maybe we deserve the harassment because of our bad behavior.  As the cigarette commercial used to say, "we've come a long way baby" since Jesus walked and talked on this planet.  It's taken a long time but it seems we  now have an "us" vs. "them" mentality.  We've forgotten that the Christians purpose in life is to love and serve THEM, whoever that might be.

As a people watcher that is involved in several Christian organizations I too see examples of  ungodly behavior from the ranks.  Because I love the church it's always painful.  Good intentions and loving hearts often do incredible damage to people that are already simply holding on by a thread.  I'm convinced that most wicked words and speech are a result of just not thinking things through, not taking the time to stop and consider NOT "what WOULD Jesus do," but "what DID Jesus do."    I'm afraid we've all too often left the path of "love" and now spend most of our time on the path of " selfishness and pride." 

Today we spend most of our time in the "holy huddle" we've carefully developed, refusing to socialize, empathize or sympathize with anyone outside our particular group. God forbid if we should cross paths with someone different than us!

A fresh example appeared this week.  I heard two stories of elderly ladies that died, two different moms from two different states..  In both cases their sons proudly proclaimed that they would not be attending their own mother's memorial service because the service would include elements that their particularly church denomination frowned upon.  WHAT?  They were NOT going to attend because a family member or two would be there that are not Christian, that some words might be said that are not in their Christianese vocabulary?

They are both staying away from their grieving family members in order to "take a stand" against an element in that service that they can not embrace.

Well, now that's just special, isn't it?  That'll leave a great impression of the love of God on THOSE family members. Way to go guys!

When did we stop thinking?

I'm ready for a revolution. WHAT IF, loving relationships replaced  religion?  What would that look like?  Jesus, maybe??
(Carl reminds us that Jesus came down the hardest on the religious people of His day!)

"You can't make impact if you don't make contact." Chuck Swindoll

I'm going to try really hard to make sure my CONTACT today is thoughtful and not religious!

RETURN TO JOPLIN

Three weeks ago this evening we  unknowingly and casually drove away from "hell" as we pulled out of the Hampton Inn parking lot in Joplin, MO.  We'd taken refuge there during a car trip home from Illinois.

Only as we headed west did we tune into the  radio news and learned of what had actually happened while we were hiding in that stairwell of the Inn. 

A monster tornado believed to consist of three vortexes whirled it's way through that lovely town.

Just a mile north of our hiding place it tore up the land, houses, cars, businesses, and landscape. As of today 146 have been counted as dead with thousands of injuries. Some are simply missing!

Today we drove back to Joplin,  100 miles  from our house.  We'd seen the pictures and videos, heard survivors stories and poured over the map of the swath of destruction.  But for the past few days our minds just wouldn't let our arms wrap around the truth of what had actually happened.

How could we be so oblivious as to just casually drive away as all those people lay dead and dying?  Was it true that 1/3 of the town was obliterated from the face of the earth?  Our minds knew the reality but our hearts were still troubled.  I'm sure a physiologist could explain  the mixed and troubling emotions.

This past week we decided that we had to return, perhaps to convince ourselves of the horror.

Today we prepared with sun hats, gloves and Gatorade and drove over. We had no formal plan, we'd step in wherever we saw someone that needed help in anyway.

We exited off the highway just as we did 2 weeks ago, everything looked fine.  The Hampton Inn was open for business and the parking lot was full.  We drove north just 1 mile when the landscape changed.   The Home Depot was demolished, a twisted junkyard.  EVERYTHING in the area had been reduced to toothpicks.  The trees were topped and the bark was stripped.  Piles and piles of rubble were the only thing visible. Occasionally an open fire was blazing. The smell of wood burning filled the air.  People gathered around make-shift open air kitchens picking up free food, water, and essentials of life.  Roofs, walls, cars, windows, trees were all gone!  Just gone!

 American flags flew everywhere offering hope.

Walmart was leveled, paint was stripped off cars and malls. The high school was destroyed, the hospital looked like a skeleton, it's dark glassless windows reeking of death. Some folks had spray painted messages on partial walls left standing. One said, "gone to Florida."  Another person wrote, "God spared us."  Another sentiment was, "gone with the wind."  Huge trucks with claws to pick up debris dotted the landscape. 

Are there enough trucks in the whole world to even make a dent in the massive piles?   In one area the devestation is as far as the eye can see in all directions.

We found  Forest Park Baptist Church and the huge Samaritans Purse truck.  We drove into the parking lot and noticed that the front door had a paper taped to it that read, "Volunteers, Sign in Here."  We parked and headed for the entrance.  Samaritans Purse was the first organization to arrive 2 weeks ago.  They were set up and helping the confused and hurt find food and help just 24 hours after that monster wind had left town.

Several folks milled about the lobby and we signed in. We autographed the huge paper map of the US, almost every state of the union has been represented thus far.  We were given the task of helping out in the church kitchen and dining room for the afternoon.  Hundreds of cardboard boxes needed to be folded and carried to the dumpster.  (Who knew that all those donations came in cardboard boxes that had to be broken down and recycled??)  We emptied trash barrels, filled ice coolers and prepared the dining room for the next influx of victims coming in for a meal. 

A temporary women's dorm was on the third floor of the church. We carried bedding and ice up there for the women resting on cots.

We heard stories of people that had lost their homes, cars that were now being cared for and housed in the homes of their Joplin neighbors, those that still had homes!  Funerals were being held daily.

Joplin is going to need a lot of love and compassion for years to come. I'm sure our  Tulsa church will be sending teams over in the days ahead. Now is the time for the church to step up to the plate!

Many folks will be lending a hand.   Many more will be needed to offer a listening ear.

People tell us that "God answered our prayers and spared us."   That is true, but so many others were praying that day and they received a  very different answer.  Did  God NOT love them?  Did He NOT have a plan for them to live?  Could He have stopped that monster storm from lowering to the ground?  Did He make a mistake?   Why are we alive and so many gone?

It's a survivors dilemma.   There are no answers, but TRUTH must prevail. God loves all people!! 

We have to trust His heart when we do not see His hand! 

PEOPLE OR STUFF

The 2011 annual Forest Ridge Garage is history!  It was a memory maker!
The thermometer climbed up to 97 degrees and it was a scorcher.

Some dear friends and I spent hours dragging and tagging until our tails were wagging.  WHAT A JOB!   Every year I swear that I will never go through this ordeal again...ever!!  And then I do!

The idea of clean closets is the motivator for weeks before the date arrives.  I  sorted through all the closets and the nooks and crannies of the attic and garage to create a sizable stash, all the while thinking that this stuff needed to go to the landfill.

Friday night was "neighbors night" and folks that live nearby walked around and shopped.  Evidently being the first one allowed to survey junk is considered a perk of living here.  The crowds came, we  reconnected with old friends and made new ones.  All the laughter, teasing and jokes made the pain in the feet, head and neck go away.

We sold half our inventory! 

This morning we were all up bright and early and open for business at 7:30.  The crowds came in droves.  Parking jams, fender benders and near misses contributed to the confusion right in front of the house. Dogs barking and four wheelers zipping buy contributed to the chaos.

Big kids, small kids and all sorts of kids came streaming by.  We had dogs on leases, babies in strollers and backpacks, and children clutching wads of money in their sweaty little hands.

Many folks knew the garage sale drill: look interested, ask the price, make an offer and walk away with that item free.  We had a great time  negotiating and giving things away, too.

It turned into a party! 

I'm thinking that folks really don't need all those leftovers from other peoples lives as much as they need other people!   We heard stories from most everyone that came.  There were stories of moves to the area, marriages, children and grandchildren.   Proud mommas were shopping for their children's dorm rooms and first apartments.  Grandmas  were  buying up toys and sharing pictures of their grands.

Men shared stories of fishing trips planned and hunters bragged.  One little girl received a model plane FREE after telling Honeybuns of her interest in flight.   Another small boy begged his mom for a telescope so he could "see Jesus."

We came to a new conclusion.  Garage Sales are SOCIAL EVENTS rather than RETAIL EVENTS.

We really do  need each other much more than we need STUFF!

I'm looking around now for things I can part with NEXT YEAR!  I'll trade just about anything for a good visit with a brand new friend.

KIDS STILL SAY...

...the darnest things! Art Linkletter was right! 

One of the most fabulous aspects of  aging is experiencing the joy of  LISTENING!  Our most favorite thing to do is engage our grands in conversation.  It's like starting an engine and then just letting it run.  It just takes a few questions to get it rollin'.  Once kids start telling tales, describing complicated issues, or teaching us about their latest find in the backyard, we just sit back and enjoy!

Sometimes they are self-starters!
 This week's examples:

Honeybuns (Papa to the kids) did a drive-by visit to the Dallas family this week.  He was in Big D for some business meetings and took the opportunity to deliver treats from the local Starbucs.  After a short time together he was off to meet with taller people and Mollie, age 4, looked up at her mommy and summed up the visit.  "Papa is our greatest treasure!"

Meanwhile out in Colorado, Dax, age 6, was overheard praying,  "Thank you God for us, for our planet, for our universe and all the other universes. Thank you for everyone on our planet and Jupiter."

Gabby, age FIR (she was FREE but now she's FIR) also prayed,  "Dear Jesus, Thank you for BeBe, (that's ME!) Gabby, Maggie and Justin Bieber."

Now what could be more fun than this!  Just call me Art!

CAR WRECK AT THE CEMETARY

We barely got out of the cemetery alive!

There is a huge, wonderfully patriotic experience in our town of Broken Arrow, OK this weekend.  The Floral Haven Cemetery COMES TO LIFE!  There are folks  that work for days  during this time every year to make Memorial Day Weekend memorable. Thousands of huge American flags are on display, each one with dog tags attached, identifying
a brave soldier that has died. It is a sight to behold.  The soldiers names are read, songs are sung, traditional ceremonies are repeated and very much alive military personnel are usually marching in formation.  It is a very impressive celebration giving honor to those who have sacrificed their lives for our freedom.

It is a good thing to stop, remember and be thankful, at least ONCE a year!

Today we made our annual drive through that magnificent sight of flags gently unfurled by the Oklahoma breeze.  Hundreds of folks were scattered over those acres placing wreaths on family members graves, taking pictures, reading headstones, and remembering.  A changing of the guard ceremony was respectfully attended.  The pride in the air was almost visible. 

After many ooh's and ahh's we were beginning to make our way through those narrow roads to the exit.

That's when it happened, THE CAR WRECK INSIDE THE CEMETERY!

An elderly woman  was in her car also preparing to leave, so Honeybuns  courteously stopped our car there in the middle of the road to give her room to back out of her parking space.

Evidently  she mistakenly missed the brake to slowly reverse and hit the ACCELERATOR instead!  That car whipped around at lighting speed, did a complete 180, side swiped the car next to her and she came to a stop HARD against a tree!  We were inches from being involved in this unbelievable scene.  It happened right before our eyes!

We were speechless.   A couple of men, women and one policeman appeared from nowhere within seconds.  The white-haired grandmother sat in her car gripping the steering wheel in a complete state of shock, embarrassed beyond imagination! 

Honeybuns jumped out of the car and ran to her.  He and  the others asked if she were hurt, quickly glancing into the vehicle that she'd just demolished to see if there were any injured there to rescue. 

No wounds  were visible except to this grandmothers pride.  I felt so sorry for her as she slid across the car seat to exit her bent up vehicle to get out of that twisted metal. She'd just experienced her worst nightmare.  I'm sure she had no idea HOW all that had so quickly happened. How could she possible explain the encounter to her family members, insurance man and car repair technician?Thousands of dollars would be involved before she would drive again.

Just proves that old adage, "you're safe nowhere."  Who knew that a leisurely drive through the place of the dead would almost put us IN that place of the dead.  We nearly ended up on the wrong side of the dirt.

It's a good day when you get out of the cemetery ALIVE!

TORNADO! YIKES!

What an experience!  We can no longer say we've never been in a tornado!
Yesterday afternoon we were driving west on I44 coming home from a  friends beautiful wedding weekend in Illinois.  It had already been a  jammed packed whirlwind of a good time visiting with family and friends, breaking bread several times, and dancing late into the evening.  The ride home was supposed to be uneventful and a little lazy.  And it WAS, most of the way. 

Honeybuns does all the driving, I do all the reading, texting,  knitting and napping as we speed along.

We were about six hours into this eight hour drive when the excitement started. As we approached Joplin, MO the sky started turning dark so we tuned  in the  local radio station to hear what was happening up ahead.  Sure enough, our suspicions were confirmed.  A huge storm was brewing and the announcer was tracking tornadoes that had formed along the OK-MO counties. 

I held the road map on my lap and tried tracking the names of the towns that were coming from that static filled news alert.

We heard the words,  "a tornado is crossing  I44  between mile marker 13 -18."  WHAT?"  We'd just quickly passed marker 18!  It was directly in front of our car. 

Other vehicles were whizzing down the road beside us.  We were amazingly calm!!!  Denial?  Shock?  Peace?

The sky turned black and the rain began.  Everyone started slowing down as visibility was reduced to ZERO.  I was texting friends and our youngest son.  I felt like someone would need to know what happened to us if we didn't survive.  Again, we were  both amazingly calm. 

A huge clunk of something hit the top of our car, I was sure it was ice.   Honeybums somehow found an exit (8) and we crept along in the dark pouring rain.  We turned off the road and saw a few hotels off to the right, cars lined up under the concrete porticoes.

He pulled up as close as possible to the cars huddled together at the Hampton Inn.  A woman from the hotel came screaming out, yelling TORNADO, her face plastered against my window. She opened my car door and pulled me out into that blinding rain.   I ran for the door and she shoved me into a darkened stairwell....twenty-five strangers were squeezed together there.  Honeybuns was pushed in a few seconds later.  That scene was surreal.  I couldn't believe what had just happened.  Again, all were amazingly calm.

SILENCE.  We waited, people began talking and a baby cried.   I met a man from Florida, off on a 40 day road trip with his wife, they'd just retired.  A young girl from AZ was trying to connect to AT&T,  she shared with me that they don't have storms like THIS where she lives! There were families, children, an elderly couple that seemed very confused.

About 20 minutes later, someone opened the stairwell door to take a peek.  The rain was still coming down in sheets, the wind was blowing a gale.  Folks trickled out into the dark lobby and watched. The hotel staff began passing out flashlights, directing guests to NOT return to their rooms.  The electric doors were sealed.  One guy had an ipad and could get the weather map.  The dark red circle of wind on his screen was moving away from us.  It had passed right over that Hampton Inn without touching down.  Little did we know that at that very moment lives were being taken and property destroyed just a mile up the road.

The wind and rain finally let up a little and Honeybuns said, "let's go!"  We were the first to leave.  (No surprise there!)  I wished my new friends good luck and they shouted back the same.  Calmness prevailed once again!

We found our way back to I44 and headed west, leaving that darkened roadway and city behind us.  We were the only cars on the road, but the sky was brighter and the rain had stopped. Dark clouds were forming again to the south and we watched them carefully.

After a few miles we realized why the highway was empty.  Police were diverting all traffic onto the side roads,  NO ONE was going to be allowed into the city of Joplin.  Only ambulances and rescue vehicles with sirens blaring raced toward that city. The radio told us why! Walmart was gone, a hospital destroyed,  houses were leveled, semis were overturned and cars had been lifted off the road and flung into ditches. We heard the words "devastation, " "war zone,"  and "it looks like a bomb has been dropped on Joplin."  The "death count would be high."

UNBELIEVABLE!   

We're safe, dry, and moving on with our lives today.  That is not the case for our Missouri neighbors.  At the moment the death toll is 89 and expected to rise!

I'm so sad for those people today.  And so grateful for life.