TIME TO GET ORGANIZED

Today is the day.  I've put it off long enough!  Honeybuns bought me a new filing cabinet and in returned I vowed to get my home office in order.

What was I thinking???  Who needs this kind of stress?

For hours I have been sorting, pitching and filing.  This type of work has NEVER been my forte.  In fact, ONE TIME, YEARS AGO,  I volunteered to help Honeybuns out at his office and together we went to work on a Saturday.  My job was to FILE! 

That job lasted ONE hour before I told him to "take this job and shove it."  Too tedious, too time consuming and I really didn't care if a work order got into the right little pocket of that massive alphabetized cabinet anyway. Now really, is there any eternal value in that?? I quit before he had time to sign a pink slip!

Details are beyond my comprehension.  I can see the FOREST but not the TREES.  A person that loves to file can see the LEAVES!

There's probably a right-brain, left-brain scientific reason for this type of vision. 

Just give me the big picture any day! 

Since no filing fairy has appeared at the house today, I have to do this whether I like it or not.

In the process of digging though old baskets, boxes and upright desk filers, I have tripped down memory lane.  I've discovered old stories half written, genealogy charts, grand children's drawings and guests lists for wedding rehearsal dinners!  (Never mind that the last wedding was nine years ago!)

Tons of paper has been pitched and only the necessities of life are filed in brightly colored hanging folders.  Maybe I'll actually use this system if it's pretty, right? 

I now have drawers for current issues, writing ideas and assignments, and historical items that are useless but hold too much sentiment to throw away.  One day I'll need that information!

My future goal now is to go PAPERLESS!   I've seen it advertised on the TV.  A device can be purchased that automatically scans, sorts, and files on the computer any piece of paper you need to keep.  GREAT!  

HHHhhhmmmm.....wonder how many hours THAT'S going to take!

I'd much rather be visiting with a family member or  friend, or better yet, a grandchild!   This organizational stuff is for the obsessive compulsory type. 

Just call me Mrs. Magoo, Honeybuns does!

TEMPORARY OR ETERNAL GOODBYES

I hate goodbyes!  Even temporary separations are sad for me, the eternal ones are horrific.  Lately that has been my experience with one man and two ladies.

Two wonderful godly women left this side of life recently.  April and Margaret were Teaching Leaders for Bible Study Fellowship years ago and that is how we met.  April taught in Little Rock,  Margaret in Dallas.

(FYI:  When a person decides to become a teacher of God's Word an INVISIBLE t-shirt is placed upon them.  It's white with a huge red bulls eye target printed on the front and back!   That's why ministers, pastors, Sunday School teachers, religious leaders of all kinds etc. are called "men of the cloth."  My opinion and experience, of course.  No scientific data to prove my theory.)

Margaret and April were "women of the cloth."  They taught it and lived it daily.

 I recall  sitting in meetings with them being profoundly impressed by their gentle but very strong natures. Both were loving and kind and yet stood courageously as they spoke the truth of God's Word.  Steel magnolias would describe these two.

 Both had suffered much through the years, cancer was a constant and lengthy battle, but they lived life large in spite of it.  Their families and thousands of others were blessed by their perseverance and bravery.

I heard about their deaths through mutual friends and was not close enough for  audible goodbyes.  My silent farewells are saddened by thoughts of their chairs being empty at future family holiday tables, their phones silent when their children long to hear their voices, their communities struggling to fill the gaping hole where they used to serve.  Yes, goodbyes are very hard.

BUT......the separation is TEMPORARY!  My friends are right now, without a doubt,  viewing sights unknown to this world, enveloped in unconditional supernatural love and  sensing a contentment beyond our wildest imaginations.  They are looking in to the all knowing, all loving eyes of Jesus Himself.  That is the promise of the scriptures they personified.  They truly are alive in a better world.

I will see them again one day! Eventually they will again hug their children and grandchildren and rejoice with their husbands.

Our gentleman friend's death is another story.  His family and friends are not sure they can look forward to a future reunion and that uncertainty is cause of much heartache.

His life was lived without a verbal acknowledgement or desire for  his eternal destination, or a love for the God that lives there.   Even though it is earthly impossible to view the inner spiritual status of a human heart, by all outward signs this goodbye MIGHT be eternal.  And that is almost unbearable .  Those that loved him and left behind are now grappling with that possibility.  The thought of never again seeing him smile, hearing his soft voice or feeling his tender touch is almost too much to bear.

 Comfort for them comes only through clinging to the ONE that sees and knows all and still speaks with a still small voice.

There is much discussion in Christian communities these days about life in the hereafter and who goes there. Books are written and conferences are highly attended. Scholars and  wanna-be scholars are having a hey-day.  It's recreation to rehash this theology in the daylight but it becomes critical for families that are suffering the dark night of grief.  It is extremely important for them to know whether the farewells are temporary or eternal. 
It's a discussion that must happen BEFORE goodbyes become necessary.   Why are we so fearful of initiating that conversation?

CONCRETE SPAGHETTI

This afternoon a couple of friends and I are headed to the land of concrete spaghetti!  Yep, the big D is once again calling my name.

This time the purpose of the trip is not to visit friends or family but to speak at an event concerning Human Trafficking.  Our final destination is Southlake, TX  a beautiful neighborhood snuggled between Dallas and Fort Worth. The Dynamic Women's Connection there is throwing out the red carpet.

I LOVE concrete spaghetti.  This picture conjures up happy memories. This interchange has taken me to fabulous places and sites that most folks only dream about.  It's the path to concerts,  the Canton flea market, houses of friends, the Dallas Arboretum, family, great churches, Houston, the West End, the 6th floor Museum, and did I mention Grandchildren?  Much can be experienced once the concrete maze is conquered.

Even if you detest metroplex traffic you've got to admit this thing is brilliant!

In fact, when this $261 million dollar architectural highway was being constructed I actually knew and interacted frequently with one of the engineers of the project.  I loved her pink hard hat!  Her brilliant mind and gracious manner was a blessing to behold.

These roads bring happiness to my heart.  At the same time these roads are frightful places for men, women and children that are being carried inside panel vans, black SUV's and 18-wheelers.   I have the freedom to travel by choice while thousands of innocents travel because they are held against their will.  They are carried from place to place for profit and have no means of escape.

That vision that is running through my mind today. 

I simply cannot be silent while little girls are being held as inventory for profit and  at the same time realize that one frumpy grandmother has little power.   The size and evilness of Human Trafficking sometimes knots my thoughts  up into "brain spaghetti."

It's going to take a grass roots movement the size of the Civil Rights Movement of the 60's to stop this billion dollar enterprise.

BUT....if mankind can design and build concrete spaghetti, who knows?  Maybe I'll have a little hope today and do what I CAN do!

THANK YEEW BRENDA LEIGH JOHNSON

Last night was the  final show of THE CLOSER!  It was a good one!

 In the closing seconds Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson was faced with the reality that her whole career was about to become a case study of  how NOT to run the major crimes division of the LAPD. An aggressive lawyer vowed to bring charges against HER for numerous tactics and  past behavior!  The show closed as she tried to imagine her life unraveling, her career over.

 She has spent years tracking down the bad guys and then administering justice on her own terms.   Week after week I watched her lie, skirt the law, direct her team to do slightly illegal activities and then face down the establishment as well as the criminals. She'd justified her behavior and played the crooks like pawns. In her opinion, anything she did was o.k!  She performed her own brand of police work wearing fabulous clothes, carrying a huge black bag and sporting smeared nightmarish lipstick! She was flawed in many ways, yet she always got her man! 

Her bumbling team of officers provided the comic relief! She taught them to lie and ignore the law as well. They loved and respected her so much they gladly obeyed.   The end always justified the means. Her outrageous demands were followed by a phony southern smile and "THANK YEEEW."

The series provided a GREAT STORY!

I loved it!  Go figure!  Honeybuns knew not to talk, ask a question or need anything between 8-9 p.m. on Monday nights.  Often he would come home to find me standing directly in front of the TV watching intently to be sure I didn't miss any clues that would be critical in solving the crime.  They were usually revealed in the first few minutes of each episode, you know! I refused to cook, answer the phone, run errands or socialize in any way during that time period.  Talk about an obsession!

Half of my addiction  to this show was trying to see if I could solve the problem of "who dun it" before she did.  That rarely happened. Most of the time there was a weird twist at the end that no one saw coming!  The relationships that developed and Brenda Leighs confusion and obsession with "ding dongs" provided the other half of the entertainment.

TODAY I'M IN GRIEF AND WITHDRAWAL.

BUT....I've learned that every episode of THE CLOSER can be purchased and reviewed over and over again!  Yep, the set of DVD's is on my Christmas List!  Perhaps being snow bound this next winter won't be as boring as long as Brenda Leigh is available on my  TV screen anytime I please. It'll be a good change of pace from my typical Monday night routine!

I used to laugh at women that watched soap operas!  How could ANYONE be that SILLY  as to become attached to TV,  FICTIONAL characters?  Only the illiterate  or boring get wrapped up in sit-coms?  RIGHT?  RIGHT!?    hhhmmmmnnnn! 

Brenda Leigh and I have been humbled.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E

It has happened again!  Twice in this week alone.  News has come to me that two couples that long ago promised to love, honor and try to get along in life,  have filed for divorce.  In both cases these friends we know have lived together for a LONG time.

 One ditched bride confessed that she had just celebrated her 70th birthday, and it was this week that her husband of 50 years decided to walk out of their home, their shared memories, and their golden years.   The other couple had also survived the years of the strain of raising children, career challenges and a bout or two of cancer. If any folks had reason to stay together at this point it should have been these!

For whatever reasons they all decided to throw in the towel, wave the white flag and split the sheets.

As the details unraveled it, and as clearly as I can understand it, both husbands had found the "love of their life" just recently! Evidently the magic of their first love had dwindled and as time ticked on more rapidly as they aged, these men decided they needed to throw caution to the wind and experience the electric spark of infidelity.   Perhaps both denied that they would  ever get caught or maybe didn't care.  Evidently the thrill of the moment (or two or three) was worth the risk.

Perhaps now, in hindsight, the realization has hit that their "final big fling" was not worth the cost. They are paying a heavy price!

It seems that this story repeats itself way too often these days.  The women and men  that have experienced the same  type of betrayal  and SURVIVED,  bruised but intact,  are not as common.  Maybe I don't hear  enough tales about the many couples that patched it up and stayed together. Perhaps the pain and embarrassment over-shadows the willingness to tell.  That would be very difficult.

BUT,  it's weeks like these that I remind myself of friends that have overcome! They went through the very long process of grief, anger, sadness and FORGIVENESS.  Time and hard work at rebuilding trust paid off and their love grew back and flourished.  It's encouraging to know that it's possible!  And I love to focus on those friends.  They have a new freshness on their faces where once there was only gloom and doom.  I think they've surprised themselves! 

A resurrection of a dead marriage IS possible,  IF both husband and wife want it bad enough.   I think that's the key.  It truly does take TWO to tango, and TWO to forgive, TWO to pick up the pieces and put them back together again.

Honeybuns and I have not faced this type of challenge yet!  Hopefully we never will.  BUT, if this awfulness should happen, I hope I will have the grace and strength to forgive.

If not, I will buy a gun.   I think he knows that!  He still looks at me with very WISE and loving eyes!

ZERO TO SIXTY IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE

This is my first memory of Honeybuns.  We met in the first grade.  I knew ALL the kids in the room except this one, he'd been bussed in from the country.  I remember this shirt, it was PINK,  and I remember this strange boy being a little mischievous.  (Yep, we met in first grade! Wow, that seems 100 years ago, actually it was ONLY 53.)

TODAY this little kid is SIXTY YEARS OLD!  Those years passed by in a blink of an eye.  He's still a cutie,  now refuses to wear pink shirts and can still be mischievous.  AND he's hilariously funny when he wants to be.  He's achieved great things professionally,  raised two fabulous sons,  now adores two daughters-in-law and thoroughly enjoys nine grandchildren.  (One granddaughter calls him,  "our greatest treasure!")

He's mellowed much and this could be the best season of life.   Sixty IS the new forty, right? 

He's got some great ideas for our future and retirement is not in his vocabulary.   He's earned every gray hair and refuses GRECIAN FORMULA.  He is this family's strength and stability, a voice of reason and calm in every situation. He is highly respected in the marketplace and community and has friends all across the country.   He's spent those fleeting years wisely!

I look forward to another 20 or 30 years of adventure with this "country boy," savoring every day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY,  HONEYBUNS!

You truly are..... OUR GREATEST TREASURE!



LIFE BEYOND THE PLOT





  What do you do with an extra pair of cemetery lots?  What an odd inquiry, but that  was   the question I received this week.   My friends elderly parents had changed their minds and decided against being laid to rest here in Broken Arrow at the famous and beautiful Floral Haven Cemetery.

Evidently the father had purchased the "funeral plan" several years ago in preparation for their final home.  At the time he was convinced that "pay now, dig later" was the best financial move he could make.  Several thousand dollars were  involved which included two beautiful tombstones and all the funeral trimmings required. His intentions were noble, he didn't want his family to have to worry about such details when the time came to make such decisions.  It's a lovely thought and the whole idea works well for many families.

Things changed!

As  their age increased and their health decreased the couple moved several states away from OK to be near their  only daughter, my friend.  Their new life  in their golden years was "set in stone" near beloved grandsons.  Relocating was absolutely the right decision.

So,  how DO you get rid of a "pre-paid" funeral?  I suggested that she negotiate with the cemetery, but she tried that and they declined to get involved. Living a thousand miles away from the property complicates things for her as well.

TIME TO GET CREATIVE!

Newspaper ads?  Online ads?  Craigs list?  Is there a category for the "afterlife" on Craigs list?

How about a raffle?  A door prize?  A donation to charity?  An auction?  A Christmas gift?  Can you put up a FOR SALE sign in the cemetery? Are there real estate agents for  such tiny properties?

Someone out there NEEDS this piece of land at the Floral Haven.  There must be one or better yet two folks, that have a goal of lying side by side in that beautiful place throughout eternity.  It is very important for some families to be able to visit, lay flowers, pray over, sing songs and remember their loved ones at a physical place. 

Another friend recently shared her experience of her deceased girlfriend, Phyllis.  She'd attended the funeral at the chapel on sight, but everyone left before the casket was lowered into the ground and therefore she never knew the exact sight of burial. For 15 years she would drive by the cemetery and have loving thoughts, and shed a tear or two in remembrance of Phyllis.  One brave day she decided to contact the officials, look at the records and actually walk to the sight.  She was kindly informed that Phyllis was NOT there, she'd been shipped to another state for internment.  (15 years of assumption, oh my!)

I remember a time, years ago, when my kind well-intentioned in-laws offered me and honeybuns two burial plots right next to theirs.  I laughed and teasingly replied to my father-in-law that there was no way I was going to spend eternity next to him! I was sure he'd come back with a witty answer.  Nope, silence was the reply. They were highly insulted and we left that place with a chill in the air.  They were trying to give us something and I took the offer too lightly! After that day I heard that they gave it to another son and his wife! I think they envisioned a sort of "Walton's Mountain" scenario, a time when the family would be together at last. It was a sweet thought that I didn't appreciate at the time.

Yep, things get emotional when talking about land at the cemetery. 

I'm looking forward to life beyond the plot!  Now that gets exciting!  I call it "unspeakable anticipation," filled with joy and smiles and a depth of confidence that lights up my mind and countenance.  Things of this word are SO temporary!  A view of eternity puts everything here in it's proper perspective.  "This world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through."

BACKYARD BURNING BUSH

We lost one of the girls this week!  Five years ago we started out with seven, all lined up in a row along our back fence.

They were much smaller when we planted them, but we had HIGH hopes of them filling in the space between our back yard, the common area and then the street. 

We felt that joggers and motorists needed to be looking at beautiful Leland cypress trees instead of into our back patio windows. The issue was not that we have something to hide,  but a  privacy hedge  sometimes protects the innocent! They grew tall and served their purpose.

They have thrived beautifully and their graceful limbs have provided shade and shelter for various birds and critters.  We love these trees.

However, this summer has been brutal on all plants in the heartland.  How can anything exposed to days and days of triple digit heat and little water survive? 

After YEARS of fertilizing, watering and decorating with white lights at Christmas, one of the girls went up in a blaze this past week and her sister is in critical condition. 

Reminds me of the burning bush of Exodus fame.  This truly must be something like the visual Moses experienced.

However, none of our trees have spoken aloud, YET!

If they COULD speak, I'm sure we'd be hearing these phrases: 

"Hot enough for you?"  "It's too hot to live!"  ""Remember last February when it was 28 below zero with 14 inches of snow on the ground?" "We'll be wishing for some of this heat come next January."  "Do you think it'll rain today?" "The temperature today is higher here than in Las Vegas."  "Could you bring me a glass of lemonade, please?"  "I think I'm having a heat stroke!"

Yep, that's what they'd be saying, because that's what they're hearing from US!

The weather man says this summer has been the "600 year experience, " every 600 years we have this kind of heat.  I wonder how he knows that.

The expert at the nursery says, there's no explanation, some trees live and some trees die.  It's the nature of horticulture!

Spontaneous combustion? For plants?  For human beings?   Is that even possible?  Who knew?

I'm headed to the AC button and turning her down to 65! 

STAYCATION??

It's a new phenomenon and a new word for the dictionary.  It involves taking time off work, staying home and calling it a STAYCATION.

 Perhaps today's economy  invented this new method of taking a vacation without spending money, wearing out frazzled nerves or  wasting time  in airport  security lines or gas station bathrooms. I think it's here to STAY! But I'm not sure it's for me!

These past few weeks I've been on STAYCATION! 
However wonderful the concept sounds, the floors still cry out to be mopped, clothes don't jump out of the dryer and onto hangers by themselves and dinner is NOT served by a guy smiling for a tip!  All those chores are still completed by ME!  And I'M supposed to be on STAYCATION!

I don't have the concept mastered yet.  Evidently for this to be successful I must PRETEND that I'm staying at a 5-star hotel, get up at noon, laze around the rest of the day and convince Honeybuns that eating dinner out is the ONLY option.  I should be reading summertime thrillers, playing games on the ipad, watching old movies and eating chocolate. 

It's just not happening!

STAYCATION is a FRAUD!  It can't happen, it's a misnomer!  It's impossible!

 I'm ready to fly away to a far distant land (preferably  to a cooler climate) and spend hours examining the backs of my eyelids.

Having experienced a STAYCATION  also solidifies the fact that  henceforth we'll NOT be taking a "tour-the-west" road trip in an RV.  I've given this a lot of thought, too.  Taking the kitchen along on a vacation is another no-BRANER!

Now I'm convinced that both the RV road trip and the concept of STAYCATION were conceived by a husband trying to stay on a budget!

CLOSE REALLY ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH

Have you noticed that it takes TWO TIMES to make it right?   For whatever reason, trying to get something accomplished just seems harder than it used to be.  It takes two trips, two phone calls, two e-mails,  so much of  the time.

 Nothing is easy!  I hear this complaint from folks of all ages, it's not just us geezers!

I have some examples.

This past week my car battery died.  No big alarm. Honeybuns took off work, drove to Sam's, bought the right size and came home to install it.  My job was to return the OLD battery for a $9.00 refund.  I was headed back to Sam's for another errand anyway so I took the receipt and old battery.  At the end of the day I pulled out the "credit" receipt.  Yep, the woman at Sam's had credited our account for $134.00,NOT $9.00.  SO...yesterday we made another trip back to correct the mistake. The Sam's woman was grateful.

Yesterday I spent two hours on the phone tracking down a Delta flight for a business trip we'll be taking in October.  The FIRST phone call a few weeks back lasted 2 1/2 hours to get all the details straight.  A few days ago I got an e-mail  saying that the airline had changed our flights to a different day, please call.  The SECOND attempt took only an hour on the phone to straighten things out.

Two weeks ago our microwave repair man overcharged us $48.00.  It showed up on the Visa statement.  Honeybuns is following up on that one today.  More phone calls, more second attempts to get something done that should be relatively easy, correct!

Do-overs are so aggravating and time consuming.  Can't we just get it right the first time?

We know a fellow that trains pilots.  He now travels around the country with a PowerPoint presentation and begins with a dark screen. The audience is puzzled because the screen is all BLACK!   He tells the story of training two young  would-be pilots, taking off and landing 10 times each to be sure they knew how to safely get the plane IN the air and then back ON the ground in tact. They were young  and carefree, confidently living with an attitude of  "close is good, good enough."

They went together for their first flight without their instructor.  They took off and slammed their plane right into a mountain. 
One minute they were looking upward into the clear blue sky and very soon everything went black, just like the picture on the screen.

CLOSE really isn't good enough.   Those young men never got a do-over.  Sometimes it's important to get it right the first time!

Maybe if I'm more careful and precise in the little things of life,  I'll pass the test when something important comes along.

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!