Excuses or It Wouldn't Have Been Worth Reading Anyway

I love to Blog
and thats a fact
Then where have you been, you might ask

Traveled before
Cut time in half
Didn't even have time to unpack

House got cleaned
and cookies baked
Family was coming to celebrate

The lists were made
The money tight
Stores were open late each night

Found Gifts for her
and gifts for him
Got shiny paper to wrap them in

Crowds were terrific
My feet really ached
Couldn't remember to buy Scotch tape

The lines were long
The sales weren't great
Just 10% and I still had to wait

Buckets of Red
and Bells that rang
Forgot to bring some cash again

Hugs and Kisses
Hellos, Goodbyes
Everyone made it to my surprise

No time to write
No time to sit
Thats my excuse and I sticking to it

Just For Me

I wore a cross around my neck
In the hope that others would respect
How I chose to let all see
My faith and what it meant to me

But even as they all could see
This emblem of my piety
They also saw the times I tried
But failed to live a Christ like life

And so I put my cross away
I could not bear their scornful gaze
And didn’t want His name denied
Because of failures in my life

But soon I learned more of the price
He paid for me with His own life
When in repentance I would seek
Forgiveness and in faith receive

Amazing Grace and restoration
With only love not condemnation
For on the cross He died for me
And bore my sins upon that tree

So now I wear my cross again
In memory of His suffering
And to remember when I fall
His love for me is all in all

Pleasers

They never seem to be too busy
They’re always at your beck and call
Whatever you ask they’re at the ready
Enthusiastically giving there all

You know the kind I’m talking about
They come to you, you don’t seek them out
It’s hard not to like their cheerful demeanors
But you have to wonder what they’re really about

You start to suspect ulterior motives
Although they’re most humble when given reward
Even when only your praise if offered
They seem to be willing to do even more

They don’t seem to ask for much in return
Their cheerfulness seems contagious
You find yourself trying to please them instead
Their motive revealed is outrageous

It turns out they only want one thing
Their unwavering service a prologue
To gaining your total devotion and love
Then taking their place as your top Dog

Stargazers

Every job has its mundane moments when it seems repetitious and even boring.  You wouldn’t think that could happen in the beautiful Colorado Rockies, but by the middle of the season, even the uniqueness of living on a guest ranch began to wear off.  To the staff, cleaning stalls, washing dishes, and cooking and serving 3 meals a day was beginning to feel more and more like work.  There were certain events each summer that brought the excitement back, like local rodeos and concerts. One of the most anticipated though, was a very special quest.

Many families returned year after year and veteran staff got to know them well, some even developing lasting friendships. One of those guests was an astronaut.  He brought his family every summer and we could always count on two things happening when he was there.  Late night apple pie raids of the kitchen and a staff attitude adjustment ride for some stargazing. After dinner when the guests returned to their cabins staff members would ride with him to our favorite spot on a ridge above the ranch and wait for the sun to set.  It was a time to relax and just be ourselves and looking over the ranch from that spot somehow put everything back in perspective.  When the stars came out our own personal astronaut would point out the constellations. You could tell he was passionate about space and loved sharing that passion with us. He told us what it was like looking down from an even higher vantage point seeing the constellations formed by the lights of the cities and towns.  I remember thinking that they were almost like a reflection of the stars.

The lights of Christmas remind me how a brilliant star announced the birth of my savior Jesus Christ, who is the true Light of the World. The one with the greatest vantage point of all sees the reflection of His light in all those who believe.  Won’t you consider asking Him into your heart so you receive a new life and a new perspective through His passionate and unconditional love for you?

Breathtaking or How I Learned to Articulate

Kids, dogs and camping gear were once again piled into our Suburban as we set off on another family vacation. We always started out early in the morning so the kids usually slept until we had left the city and suburbs far behind.  For some reason when they woke up the miles and miles of open road did not hold their attention for very long.  They amused themselves for a while trying to get truckers to honk by pulling on imaginary cords as we drove by.  Once they had managed to get a few responses they went on to play games involving the colors or state license plates of passing cars.

Eventually they would get bored with that too, so we always had them pack a small bag for the backseat with books and puzzles or small games.  Things were quiet for a while as they began to pull out their emergency anti boredom items until our 7 year old son complained that he had a headache.  Our first solution was to tell him to close his eyes for a few minutes.  Seconds later he announced that it had not worked.  For some reason the same child who could fall asleep in mid-sentence when tired and who had slept for the first two hours of the trip, was unable to close his eyes for more than 10 seconds at a time. 

When he complained again he said that he was having a hard time reading because of his headache.  I told him that he needed to stop reading for a while because that would probably help.  That seemed to do it because we didn’t hear anymore complaining from the back seat for a while, just what I thought were heavy sighs of boredom.  After the third one I turned around in my seat to check it out, just in time to see that the sigh was really a long exhale.  Then I watched as he filled his lungs, puffed out his cheeks and held his breath.  I asked him what he was doing and after exhaling again he said with a tired whine that he was doing what I told him to do but that it was hard not to breathe.     

Aftermath or Has Anybody Seen the Cat?

No room in the fridge or freezer
Towels and sheets need to be washed

Garbage cans are overflowing
The DVR remote is lost

Kids are sleeping by the TV
Pets are nowhere to be found


Every dish in the washer
Toys and videos scattered round

We all gathered round the table
To give thanks, remember, laugh


Our time together is all too short
But always worth the aftermath

The Lights In Her Eyes

 

The anniversaries of two events that changed my life forever happened between November 23^rd and Christmas of the same year.  My daughter was born the day before Thanksgiving and not quite three weeks later my husband, her father, passed away in a tragic accident. 

I don’t really remember much about the 6 or 7 days following the accident except my wonderful family dropping everything to be at my side for the memorial service.  I didn’t want to travel with the baby so my best friend flew out to stay with me and my sisters and Mom returned to celebrate the holiday with their young children.  Christmas Eve night came and went with the presents still wrapped and under the tree. Christmas night promised to be just as uneventful but as we sat in the living room talking, the Christmas tree and window lights suddenly popped on.  They were on a timer and someone else must have been turning them off for me each night because I never even saw them.  My friend jumped up to turn them off but I told her to stop when I saw my daughter smiling and looking at the tree.  The lights reflected in her wondering eyes and just for a moment it was Christmas.

We have come a long way since then and this season always brings with it, the memories, both joyous and sorrowful.   We will be celebrating her birthday on Thanksgiving Day this year and, as always, I will thank God for her and all He has brought us through.


Happy Birthday, My Girl.  May God always give you something to wonder at that will bring a light to your eyes and smile to your face even through the hardest times.

Tried and Truth

T is for the timing that was all wrong
U is for the undercooked green beans
R is for the runny homemade gravy
K is for the knife that won’t carve meat
E is for the eggnog I forgot to buy
Y is for the yams that turned to mush
I sure glad that all that really matters
Is thanking God for all He’s done for us

Unforgettable Love

My Mom is a great cook, which she would probably deny, but it’s the truth.  That is why it is so odd that one of our family’s holiday traditions is to tease her about burning the rolls.

Her holiday meals always looked and tasted fantastic.  One Thanksgiving she was putting the last dish on the table when someone said that they smelled something burning.  It was the rolls.  She had put them in the oven while she put the finishing touches on the serving platters and forgot about them.  That can happen to anyone and you might think us cruel to never let her forget one simple mistake.  The problem was that for a few years in row she repeated the same mistake which became just too tempting to ignore and the teasing became a holiday tradition.

Knowing it was done in love she took it with grace and patience.  She could afford to be patient, as all parents can, knowing that eventually her children would be the ones serving the holiday meal and that great moment would dawn when they would appreciate all the effort and love that went into it.  I won’t name names but I can remember a few holiday meals that included mistakes by other members of the family that rivaled hers. If they had been repeated I am sure the burnt rolls would have been forgotten.

How gracious and patient our Heavenly Father is to wait for us recognize our sins.  It doesn’t matter what we’ve done or even that we have made the same mistakes over and over again.  He waits for us to ask His forgiveness and accept the effort and love that went into the sacrifice of His Son Jesus, so that we will always know we are loved even when we burn the rolls.

Striking it Real

When I went to Colorado to work on a guest ranch there was one other thing that I wanted to do out West more than anything else.  I wanted to visit a ghost town.  Not a tourist trap with gunfight reenactments, and souvenir hats but a real ghost town with deserted buildings, tumbleweeds rolling down the streets and at least one battered wooden sign swinging from a hook and creaking in the wind. You know, a real ghost town just like the ones on TV and in the movies.

I bought a book about how to find some of the few historic towns that remained untouched.  The closest one to the ranch was a town that grew up around silver mines high in the mountains.  According to the book, at one time the town had 5 restaurants and 3 saloons accommodating the miners and their families.  I followed the map to the location and knew I had found it when I saw the picturesque head frame of the mine shaft that was still standing and a historical marker describing the silver strike as one of the richest ever made.

The only other structure that could be seen was a small shack a short distance from the mine.  I hiked up to it and carefully stepped through the open door and onto the broken and rotting floor boards.  The sun pierced through the scattered holes in the roof as the dust I disturbed floated through its shafts.  There were tattered pieces of wall paper clinging to what remained of the walls.   A small wooden table stood at one end but other than that it was empty. Imagining anyone living, and working in this remote place was difficult if not impossible. None of the re-creations I had seen even came close to what living in such isolated and harsh conditions must have been like.

I wasn’t disappointed by what I found.  It might not have lived up to my expectations but it was real and it was the kind of reality that matured my thoughts and made me want to seek the truth instead of chasing fantasies.

 

Guess Who Came To Dinner

As a newlywed I was very excited about hosting our first barbeque.  Our property at the base of the foothills had just as much cactus as it did grass so we set up on the cement patio between the house and the garage.  We had just framed out an addition to the garage so I tried to disguise the stacked lumber with flower pots.

 Everything was going great until I happened to glance up.  The largest snake I had ever seen in my life was stretched out across a large beam about eight feet high and practically above the heads of the guests.  Within seconds many things raced through my mind, not the least of which was how it got up there and would it come down to join the party.  Although the markings were similar I was pretty sure that it wasn’t a rattlesnake because of its size.  It was as large as some boa constrictors I had seen so I didn’t even know if it was native or an escaped pet. 

The only word that I managed to speak, or rather squeak, was snake!  Within seconds everyone had scanned the ground around their feet and stood to prepare for a quick exit since rattlesnakes were not rare in that area.  I pointed, still lacking the appropriate words to tactfully introduce the uninvited guest.  My husband immediately climbed up the stacked lumber, grabbed the snake and pulled it down right in front of everyone.  Apparently, I was the only one in a state of near panic because after a short discussion about what a big Bull snake it was my husband took it behind the house and the party continued.  Not wanting to appear cowardly I did my best to remain composed.

 Later I asked what he had done with the body, assuming that he had killed it as he would a rattlesnake on the property.  He explained that Bull snakes were beneficial and kept the rodent population down so he let it go out back.  Somehow, for me anyway, that did not make up for the fact that it was 6 feet long and could climb up the side of a building.  I was grateful that our guests were locals because I couldn’t even imagine the panic that would have ensued if the folks from back home would have been there.  Sensing my uneasiness he suggested I give it a name and treat it like a pet.  I secretly named it after him because I wasn’t sure at that moment which one was going to be sent to live in the backyard if it showed up at one of our barbeques again.on

Songs From A Grateful Heart

If I sing How Great Thou Art
While waves of doubt flow through my heart

Or sing about Amazing Grace
But in the mirror my shame I face

Or if I have no words to say
But only tears come when I pray

Or passing through the fires of fear
I run instead of drawing near

Your gentle spirit deep within
Reminds me of forgiven sins

And a new life that’s begun
Because you freely gave your Son

I know that I can rest in You
And find my peace in hope renewed

If on your promises I’ll stand
And come to you Just As I Am

High Witness - or The Girl Who Cried Flower

One of the best things about working summers at a guest ranch in Colorado was meeting the other young men and women from all over the country, or out of the country, who also spent their summers there.  Housekeepers, waitresses and cooks were needed as well as wranglers and ranch hands so the staff consisted of city dwellers, flatlanders (otherwise known as Midwesterners), foreigners and cowboys.  A clash of cultures at times but for the most part a wonderful learning experience.  Coming from Illinois, I fell into the flatlander category.  Before the ranch I had never been anywhere farther than Wisconsin so I was pretty naïve when it came to the ways of the West.  It turned out I was not alone.

 Most of us knew little or nothing about mountains, riding, ranching or the beautiful natural habitat that surrounded us. We learned as we went and it wasn’t always the easy way.  Cactus didn’t grow in the middle of the Illinois prairies that I was used to running barefoot through, and neither did nettles.  Pain is an amazing teacher and so is humiliation.

One evening I was late returning from a hike and it was getting dark faster than I expected.  As I finally reached the ranch road leading to the lodge I noticed that both sides were lined with beautiful white flowers.  They weren’t there in the morning when I started out so I thought they had all bloomed sometime during that day.  The entire kitchen staff followed me down the road the next morning just to see them, but they were all gone.  They looked at me as though I had lost my mind and from then on I was the butt of jokes about eating hallucinogenic mushrooms while on my hike etc., etc.  I knew that I had seen them, so I checked every morning so that I could prove it.  That only added fuel to the fire when I had to come back and tell them they were not there.  After dinner one night I went for a walk and there they were again.  I practically dragged a couple fellow staffers down the road to be witnesses to my sanity. One of the locals came with us and really got a kick out of listening to us go on about the mystical disappearing flowers.  Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore and told us that they were Evening Primroses and that they only bloomed at night.  At least I wasn’t hallucinating.

Virtue Smirtue or I Am Not Impatient

It starts with great anticipation
Building to a fever pitch
Then stirring my imagination
Takes me on a journey rich

Through fantasies of great elation
And depths of deep despair
My expectations rise and fall
While what’s to come is still unclear

When my mind’s eye slows and stops
I’m at the mercy of the clock
Anticipation turns to dread as
Temptation rears its’ ugly head

To taunt me into doubting if
The plans I thought I made
Did not exist or even worse
Were meant for yesterday

Suddenly scheduled events
My fears and doubts deflating
Evolve into reality
And end the awful waiting

We're Not In Kansas Anymore John Boy

A light snow was falling as we made our way up the steep mountain slope.  My fiancé led the way to the place near the top where he promised we would find the perfect Christmas tree.  We saw deer and Elk and the view became more spectacular the higher we climbed. He seemed to know every inch of the mountain and I couldn’t help feeling like I was living an episode of the Waltons. 

 Apparently he had become used to the fact that I babbled when I was excited because he patiently answered all of the random questions I asked as we as we climbed.  How high did he think we were, where the deer went when it snowed, what kind of pine trees were they, and so on and so on.   We did find the perfect tree and just as he started to chop it down the wind shifted and the snow started to come down with a vengeance.  In the short time it took to fell the tree, the snow had already covered the ground.  He said not to worry because going down was always quicker than climbing up. I was laughing and chattering as we made our way down but I could only see a few feet ahead in the blinding snow and found myself sliding more than walking.  My Walton’s episode had begun to feel more like a natural disaster movie, so I decided I’d better be quiet and take things a little more seriously.

Suddenly he stopped, looked back at me and then stood looking down the slope scanning it from right to left, before he started down again.  When we finally reached the truck I asked him if he stopped because he lost his way.  He said no and explained that he was taught that when you find yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, and conditions change drastically, you should always stop and get your bearings before continuing.  I couldn’t remember anything changing drastically before that time and was sorry I asked when he told me it was because I had stopped talking.

Avoiding a Catastrophe or They're Not Just Fluffy You Know

What can you say about cats
That hasn’t already been said
There are legends and myths
Even Hieroglyphics
And plenty of books to be read

Although they are not
Universally loved
And the reason for sneezing for some
Sheer numbers aside
Facts can’t be denied
To many they’re gifts from above

So why should I try to add even more
Beyond what's already been told
Compared to folklore and tales
My efforts might pale
So it might be considered quite bold

I love animals all
And I have to admit
Cats are close to the top of the list
I decided I must
Risk causing a fuss
And add my own words to the mix

As much as we love them
We must face the facts
Their finicky habits won’t keep it in check
We’ll love them to death
If we just can’t accept
Cats get Fat

Hope in Deep Waters

We were indoctrinated at an early age.  We sat on blankets with our bamboo poles lying next to us, dangling the tips over the top of the seawall.  The line went straight down to the bobber so that the tiny tug of the child size sunfish or perch would bend the thin tip of the bamboo.  Eventually we were allowed to stand and use the entire pole to try for Striped Bass or Crappies.  We swung them onto the shore at the end of the long poles while learning to duck the flying catches of others.  Bait was everything from tiny pieces of old lace, minnows, worms and even leeches.  I personally drew the line at leeches even though it threatened my status as a proper fisherman.

 A rite of passage was to own our first rod and reel and learning to cast was as important as learning to swim.  It also allowed us to try for the larger deep water fish like Pike and Catfish.  Along the way we learned to read the river.  When the water was too high or the Carp were spawning in the shallows, the fishing would not be good.  When the May flies appeared or the water was very still the time was right.  The reward for all this was a Sunday afternoon fish fry and the satisfaction of knowing that we had provided the delicious, fresh ingredients.  It didn’t hurt that along the way we learned patience and perseverance, and how to be quiet for long periods of time.

As my life stands right now, I can’t even imagine having the time to sit on a riverbank, pole in hand, letting just the sun dictate my time.  I am also pretty sure that the patience and perseverance I remember having back then might fail me.   But I do know where I can go to find the same kind of peace and timeless contentment.  No matter if life is rushing by or its troubles are multiplying I can “Cast my burdens upon the Lord and he will sustain me…..” (Psalm 55:22 KJV)

Love Letters

Sometimes when you are far away
I just don’t know what to say

Sometimes I hear a melody
And we’re together as I sing

Sometimes you’re unbelievable
Outrageous and hysterical

Sometimes you are quite personal
Somehow reaching to my soul

Sometimes your dark intensity
Reveals a passion that runs deep

Sometimes it’s very clear to me
That you and I were meant to be

Sometimes when I need to be heard
I cannot live without you, words

 

 

Reunion

The past ignited by a spark of recognition
 Is dimmed by the realization of change
Shared memories fan the flames of reconnection
And from the embers glow the warmth of family remains

Raczon Family Reunion – October, 4^th, 2014

If Time Stood Still

When the days go rushing by
And time my schedule must deny
I think that it would be a thrill
If just for once time would stand still


The bills still due would wait a while
The clothes I own would stay in style
My kids would stay both sweet and small
My hair would not turn grey at all

But then the future would not be
No goals or possibilities
Problems now would stay unsolved
My hopes and dreams would just dissolve

I guess time must continue on
And mark the seasons and the dawns
To move me through both joy and grief
And fill my heart with memories


When my life comes to an end
And all my time on earth is spent
In God’s arms I’ll find true peace
As time stands still for eternity

Whatever You Do Don't Grab That Branch

 

Everyone at the ranch was excited about the opportunity to go tubing. The nearby river, that was usually too shallow, was swelled by recent rains, and just high enough for a good ride.  I had great memories of lazily floating on an old car tire inner tube down the deep, meandering, waters of the Fox River back home.  Those memories began to fade when I saw them loading the gigantic tractor sized inner tubes into the horse trailer.  The memories disappeared completely when I saw the river. This deep water wasn’t calm and smooth it was swirling and dark with a relentless canyon carving flow.  

As she was holding the tube so I could climb on, my friend told me to just hang on and down around the bend the current would wash the tubes up onto a sandbar.  The trucks would wait for us there. Knowing I was inexperienced she added, “Whatever you do don’t grab a branch if you get close to the shore, if you are afraid of getting hit by one just duck down as low as you can into the center of the tube”.

With that said she pushed me out into the current.  I couldn’t believe how fast I was going, spinning with the swirling current then bouncing across small bubbling rapids that formed between the scattered boulders.  Suddenly I was headed toward the riverbank where there were overhanging branches.  I remembered the part about ducking but as I sank lower into the center of the tube I felt myself slipping.  Instinctivley I reached for a branch to pull myself up.  It only took a split second to realize why I should have remembered the 1st part of the warning as the rushing current pulled the tube right out from under me.  The branch and my grip were not strong enough to hold me and I splashed into the icy cold water.  Immediately I felt myself being pushed sideways instead of sinking to the bottom.  The sideways momentum gradually brought me to the surface not far from my tube.  I grabbed it and finished the ride clinging to its side and being dragged up onto the sandbar like a fish on a line.

The moral of the story:  When we feel out of control, sometimes we need to fight our first instincts and heed the warnings that come from experience, otherwise we may find ourselves in over our heads.

No Time to Waste

No question He can’t answer

No problem is too big

No doubt He can’t help overcome

No help He cannot give

 

No fear He cannot cast out

No wound He cannot heal

No Enemy is stronger

No storm He cannot still

 

No love we have can match His

No faith in Him enough

No works we do can save us

No sin can end His love

 

No hopelessness is lasting

No life without His plan

No future without heaven

When we say yes to Him

Nuts and Bolts and Baby Food Jars

The old garage was the one place we were not allowed to play.  It was dark and dusty and it smelled of damp wood, oil and rust.  Mom said it was dangerous because of all the tools, junk, and rusty nails. The lure of the forbidden and mystery of the unknown were counteracted, at least for me, by the spiders and the wasps.  We had to go in to get our bikes and fishing poles but we made sure they were near the door so we could just grab them. The two small dust coated windows didn’t let much light in even on a sunny day.  There was one naked light bulb in the center that barely illuminated the floor beneath it, and that seemed to make the corners even darker.

When Daddy was fixing the lawn mower or building something out there we were told not to bother him. His territory, it was a much grittier version of today’s man cave. We were surprised one day when Mom told us all to go out to the garage and help our father.  I am not sure, but I think we had been complaining about not having anything to do, so as parents of bored kids will do, they found something to occupy us. Daddy managed makeshift seats for us all, near his work bench, and spilled two grease soaked cardboard boxes full of nuts and bolts on top of it.  It was our job to sort them by size and type into little glass baby food jars that he had been saving in another grease soaked cardboard box. 

It certainly wasn’t what we had in mind for an activity, but we knew better than to add another complaint to the day’s list. We were dirty and tired by the time we finished, but satisfied to see all of the little jars neatly lining the shelves above the workbench, sorted and ready to use.  What makes a lasting memory?  Stepping into the unknown and working together toward a common goal.  Hmm, and I thought they were just trying to keep us busy.

It's Hard To Be Humbled

They say pride goeth before the fall

I don’t know if that’s true at all

One thing I know that’s very clear

Humiliation is always near

 

There’s nothing like a healthy diet

To impress a prospective client

He left with lasting memories

Of the spinach stuck between my teeth

 

We hugged, we laughed, and we reminisced

And claimed the other looked the same

I would have enjoyed our reunion more

If I could have remembered her name

 

The screen was dark and the mouse was dead

But it wasn’t panic that turned me red

I called IT and they rushed to begin

Solving the problem by plugging it in

 

They smiled and nodded as I walked past

But it didn’t take long for my ego to crash

It wasn’t me they were happy to view

But what was stuck to the bottom of my shoe

 

It’s hard to be humbled by life’s little jokes

But sometimes my pride needs a little poke

To deflate my ego and keep it small

And hopefully keep me from that fall

Flying With the Eagles

On a family vacation to Southern Illinois we planned a stop at a Bald Eagle nesting area near the Mississippi river.  We thought it would be a great way to break up the monotony of the drive. From the viewing area we could see the eagles sitting in the tops of the trees and flying high above the water.  They were so far away that you could barely see their white feathered heads.

We crossed the Mississippi to have lunch in Iowa and the kids begged to try to find a way to see the eagles closer, up before we left the area.  I explained that we were not sure if there was a way to get closer and that we still had several hours on the road to get to the campground before dark.  They seemed very disappointed and I thought the whole plan had backfired.

As we headed back across the river, one of the kids yelled and pointed out the window.  Flying alongside the bridge and just above the water was a magnificent Bald Eagle.  Only the two of us sitting on the passenger side could see it and there was nowhere to pull over on the bridge.

Suddenly the eagle rose up effortlessly on a currant of air and began flying directly across from us in full view of everyone in the car.  For a few moments it felt as though we were flying right along with it, until another currant of air carried it up and out of sight.  It was one of the highlights of the whole trip.

As we drove on, I thought about how I had been content to see the eagles from far away, not willing to change our schedule or look for another vantage point.  Those few moments of feeling as though I could fly freely, made me wish that I had been as willing as the kids to put aside my plans and believe God for more.

 

 

The Romance of Nature

The crackle and pop of the gravel, underneath the tires, was amplified by the dense silence. It was an hour before dawn and we were traveling to our favorite hunting spots on the family farm.  It was not only silent but eerily dark.  Darker than usual because clouds covered the legions of stars that normally blanketed the country sky.

We navigated only by our headlights which seemed to be cut short by the darkness.  Suddenly the gravel appeared to take on shape as the lights revealed a huge Whitetail buck standing in the middle of the road.  It barely glanced at us as we slowed to a stop.  It was the rutting season and he only had one thing on his mind.  We could see her at the edge of the light in the field next to the road

Before we knew what was happening, a second buck appeared out of the blackness.  The first one swung around and the battle began.  We turned off the engine and lowered the windows listening to the sounds of the antlers as they cracked together and the grunts and groans of the combatants. It was thrilling and mesmerizing.  Wild life realized far beyond the two dimensional scenes of a nature documentary.

As quickly as it began it was over and the second buck retreated into the darkness. The victor wasted no time claiming his spoils. She had waited patiently for him and like the end of an old movie, the scene faded to black as we continued down the road giving them some privacy.  Driving away, I realized that from the moment the battle began we had hardly spoken a word.  We were silent observers capturing time, not with a photograph or a video but with a shared memory that was ours alone. 

Get Over It

There’s such a thing as stalking

            There are people I can call

 Why can’t you see it’s not meant to be

             No matter what you saw

 It wasn’t a tease or even a glance

             The whole encounter was just by chance

 The view through that window was dim at best

             I’m afraid you just imagined the rest

 You have got to stop calling late at night

             Your obsessiveness is just not right

 And even if I let you in

             What makes you think love would begin

 I really don’t want to break your heart

             But the only choice is to stay apart

 There are things you just don’t understand

             That would get in the way of romantic plans

 Long before her heart could be won

             The fix was in, the deed was done

 Makes no difference how you carry on

             She will resist your fatal charms

 I know you think that your all that

             But after all, Tom, you’re just a cat

Breakthrough

There it is, I see it now

            The possibilities and the how

Plain as day the steps are clear

            One leap of faith and then I’m there

No use rushing after all this time

            I wouldn’t want to miss a sign

I should think it through once more

            List pros and cons and add the scores

 I’m not so bad off after all

             This could be temptations call

 To make this leap of faith alone

             Might lead me to a fate unknown

 It seemed that victory was near

             Until I looked through eyes of fear

 But when I look through eyes of faith

             The path before me becomes straight

 In my weakness He is strong

             And all my life to Him belongs

 His perfect love casts out my fear

             And once again the victory’s near

A Body in the Trunk or Oh Lucy VI

Every year my husband and I went deer hunting on a family farm about 4 hours from home.  One year he got a doe on Sunday afternoon.  The processor near the farm was not open on Sunday so we had to bring the deer home on the roof of our Suburban.  It was unseasonably warm that year so we covered it with a tarp packed with ice.  That night he hung it in the garage and we planned to transport it to our local processor when he got home from work the next day.

Monday afternoon he called and told me that he had to work late and since it was so hot we would probably end up paying for its disposal.  Our family loved venison and the meat would really help keep the grocery bills down for the winter so I decided I had to try and save it.

It was hanging right above our chest freezer in the garage so I put a tarp over the freezer and tried to release the pulley rope slowly to gently lay it down.  I should have stopped right after several hundred pounds of dead weight crashed down onto the freezer but I was determined.

 The next step was to back the car up and pull the tarp and deer into the trunk.  Unbelievably, it worked but suddenly I knew it had all been too easy.  The deer was lying in the trunk with its legs sticking straight up.  I grabbed a leg to fold it down but it was then I realized that rigor mortis applied to deer too.  I could not close the trunk and I wasn’t about to drive to the processor like that.  I literally had to climb in with the dead body and push with all my strength to wedge its legs beneath the back of the trunk.  The legs were so stiff that the deer was locked into position by the tension.

 Game usually appeared at the processors in the back of pick-up trucks so when I told them it was in the trunk they seemed amused, until it took 3 of them to get it out because it was wedged in so tightly.  The best part was trying to convince my husband that I had actually managed to get it there by myself.  I don’t think he believes it to this day.

It's Just a Game or What Do You Mean There Are No Directions?

Is a Comic Con a felon?

            Are two Wii a Wheeze?

Sorry, but the gaming world

            Is not my cup of tea

Don’t get me wrong I’ve played a few

            From Pong to Mario

But my gaming heart belongs

            To Scrabble and Uno

That doesn’t make me old you know

            Just a connoisseur

 I’ll stick to classics that I love

            They're cheaper that’s for sure

Room at the Table

Divorced was not something that I had ever imagined being and the aftermath not something I would ever have expected.  The pain of rejection, failure and guilt mixed with the feeling of somehow being out of place and time, took my breath away.

 I had a good friend that I could cry to but who never let me give up. She kept reminding me that God would always be there for me.  I knew it was true but it just didn’t seem as real as the pain.  One day I was suddenly overwhelmed by the smallest thing.  I wanted my children to come to dinner at my new apartment but I didn’t have enough plates.  It touched off a flood of emotions and I found myself at my friend’s kitchen table sobbing once again.  I couldn’t even explain why. 

 After I pulled myself together we took a walk and stopped at a garage sale.  I only had $2.00 in cash on me so I wasn’t really expecting to buy anything.  I noticed a cardboard box under a table that was marked “$1.50 for all”.  I pulled it out and opened it.  My friend thought there was a spider in it because I let out a little yelp.  It was a box of dishes but not just any dishes.  They were exactly like mine.  If I had won the lottery that day it would not have meant as much to me as that box of dishes.  The pain wasn’t about needing the dishes but about needing to know that I was loved and not alone and someone understood my deepest fears and emotions.  He really was and would always be there for me.

 Whenever I use those dishes I think about the comforting words of the 23^rd Psalm and the verses that say that “He prepares a table before me…..  He is a loving God that longs to comfort and provide for us in the midst of our deepest sorrows.  We have a standing invitation and there’s always room at the table.

Science Unplugged

Raising quail wasn’t all work.  Every summer we entered our birds in the County Fair and every year we won Best in Show.   Not because our quail were the best but because they were the only quail entered.

We had created educational displays about what quail ate and how they lived in the wild for the kids. One day the principle of a local private school stopped at our fair booth and asked if I could to do a presentation to the science class.  She also asked if they could hatch quail eggs in the classroom like they could chicken eggs.  The classroom incubator was the same type I used to start my quail business so I told her I thought it would work.

The presentation went well and I don’t know who was more excited about the hatch, me or the kids.  Every day I stopped by after school hours to check the temperature and humidity.  The eggs were scheduled to hatch on a Monday so I stopped in the Friday before to get everything ready for the big event.  Early Monday morning the principle called to say something was terribly wrong and could I come right away.  When I got there a familiar smell greeted me – dead chicks.  I ran over to the incubator and saw some of the eggs half open and some that were fully hatched but dead.

We quickly cleaned out the dead and dying chicks and tried to get rid of the smell before any kids arrived.  I was horrified and could not figure out what had gone wrong.  Everything looked perfect on Friday. Even though a few chicks hatched and survived that day, they asked me to remove the incubator immediately after school.  Since I didn’t seem to know what had happened they were not willing to risk finding any more dead chicks the next morning.

I didn’t think I could ever show my face at the school again until the principle called and apologized.  The weekend before the hatch the janitor mistakenly unplugged the incubator to plug in the floor polisher.  The sudden drop in temperature and humidity caused the initial carnage.  Once the temperature was back to normal the rest of the chicks were able to hatch.

 They hatched chickens the following year and that was just fine with me. 

 

 

To Blog or Not to Blog

The ideas never stop
They keep rising to the top

I try to focus, sort and plan
But soon they get the upper hand

If my workday intervenes
I think their gone and then come dreams

Some colorful, some frightening
They seem to be ideas with themes

What would happen if I let go
And listened to the constant flow

Would I continue to create
Or become frozen by the weight

Of random thoughts and questionings
Liberated ideas would bring

Is a stream of conciousness
The way to fame or great success

Or just distractions threatening
to keep my goals beyond my reach

Where was I now, I do digress
There was a reason for this mess

To explain how blogging solves
Where to put ideas that jog

My memories, questions, thoughts and prayers
That may bring hope and joy if shared