Char’s Blog

We went to a wedding today. It was lovely to see two young people, in love, making a commitment to each other before God. It was a joy to see their families and friends support them as they start their journey together. I thought I’d share some of the 322 pictures I took.

Two guests arriving at the Church.

In the receiving line the Bride complimented me on my dress. I told her that was what *I* was supposed to say! She did have a lovely dress.

I asked before the wedding if I could bring my camera and they said “yes!” I warned them that I took pictures of odd things.

The bouquet.

The Bride.

We are friends of the Bride’s family. In fact, the Father of the Bride has made an appearance here before. The receiving line was long- I think the Mother of the Bride had the right idea.

The Bride again, getting pelted with wheat.

The Groom helped his lovely Bride into the car- which, surprisingly, wasn’t too decorated up- and got in himself. Then the horn started honking. I thought that was rather odd. Until I realized that every time he pushed on the brakes the horn would honk. We laughed as they drove down the street and honked to a stop at the intersection. We had a grand time listening to them drive off into the sunset.

Now, do you think I should go into the wedding photography business, or keep my day job?

On the third Sunday of the month you can find us at a local Assisted Living facility, (Sunshine mangles the name and calls it Jupiter House) singing hymns and praise songs with the people that live there. Of course, I use the words “us” and “singing” loosely- it’s really code for Col. Panic playing his guitar and singing, me trying to stay somewhere in the right tune and the kids reading or coloring in the corner. The Folks there seem to enjoy it and we enjoy getting to know them and feel blessed afterward.

I was observing some of them last time. Some of them are sharp and funny- others, well- they don’t have the minds of their youth anymore.

One lady was always dressed classy, hair impeccable, nails long and painted. She was better at putting outfits together than I will ever be. But…. she would ask you the same question over and over again. I was amazed at the deep ingrained part of her that knew how to be groomed so well. I could tell that it was something that was important to her all her life.

A few months ago when we entered the people there were telling us to get the door closed quickly as one lady was trying to get out. I watched this lady while we were there, marching determinedly up and down the halls, agitated, unhappy. She had a Faithful Companion, another older lady, who followed a few steps behind, watching. I wondered at their relationship and why Faithful Companion felt the need to stay with Agitated. I wonder if I would be that faithful of a friend? I saw Agitated this time too, not quite as upset but still wandering the halls, trying the doors to see if any were unlocked and possibly a way out. She carried her purse with her this time- as if to be ready when she found the door out. Faithful was there too, a few steps behind, carrying her purse also. Faithful cast a few glances at us as we sang- I wondered if she wanted to join us- but she turned and continued on her journey.

A lady that sometimes joins us was there. She stood right in front of The Col. as he sang. He tried to get her to sit but she resisted until part way through she decided that wasn’t a bad idea. It’s interesting talking with her as you never know which direction the talk will head.

“Are we going to dance now?” she asked when we were picking up. She indicated we should move the table to have room.

No, not today.

“I hope they aren’t hungry when they get here. They didn’t eat last time before they came. That was bad.”

Yes, I hope they eat too.

She enjoys the music and is always clapping in time to the music or tapping her feet. I watched her lips when we sang those old favorite hymns and she was getting the words right. Deep ingrained in her mind are the words to those songs. Maybe she sang them as a child at church and at home.

I wonder what will come out when, in reality, I am no longer here in this shell. I hope I am one that stays sharp, don’t we all? I know I will not be Ms. Impeccable- that’s a given. I’ll be more like my Grandfather and refuse to bathe or change my clothes. I hope I am not Agitated and that I will be more like Faithful Companion. Most of all, I hope that the love of my Saviour will shine through the fog and bless others.

(See note at bottom of post.)

Question: What activities are “outside” activities?

1. Running, jumping, wrestling?
2. Playing with balls?
3. Riding bikes?
4. Playing with dolls quietly?
5. Playing with toy cars, quietly?
6. Drawing?
7. Standing on the porch?

Question: Which of those activities do my children consider “outside” activities?

If you guessed 4-7 you would be correct.

Question: Which of those activities listed do my children consider “inside” activities?

If you guessed 1-3 you would be right on the money. (Except the bikes aren’t allowed in the house)

They have it all backwards. I send them outside because they are running, yelling and wrestling in the house and they go outside to partake in a quiet activitiy.

Outside is not for running in. It’s for quietly playing with your dolls on the porch or sitting in the tree.

Yes, yes indeed. Maybe it’s not them that have it backwards- it might be me and my small brain that just doesn’t grasp the concept that the carpet is much nicer to wrestle on and run on than grass. It’s just that I lack edukaton that I can’t wrap my head around quiet and peaceful outside play in order to not disturb the ecosystem.

I guess I must get past my small perception of things and just throw caution to the wind and allow bikes in the house.

You can find The Col. and me living in the Shop, twitching.

Note: Today, and I didn’t know this until I posted this already, is Talk Like A Pirate Day. So in honor of that I changed the spelling of the title. Arrr Matey!

Alternative title: I Am So Classy.

Not.

I apparently wore the same pair of sandals out in the sun too much this summer.

It looks really classy when I try to act mature and dress up.

Note: For demonstration purposes only. I do know enough (barely) to wear matching shoes.

You know that you are getting old when the Oldies Station starts playing songs you loved when you were in High School….or after.

*****

Pixie said “I’ll be 14 when I grow up!”

Ah, I guess from the perspective of five- 14 sounds pretty old.

Well, I’m only 16- is that middle age?

I am allergic to August. (The month, not anyone who happens to be named that as far as I know)

I thought I was doing well this year. Whatever seems to bother me in August wasn’t causing me too much trouble. I thought I was doing the right things this year to hold off the worst of the symptoms.

Yeah. I do tend to get delusional, don’t I?

August came late this year.

No, I am not crying about it- it’s just my eye watering.

Excuse me, I sneezed.

Sigh. Let me know when September gets here.

Whoosh! Where does the time go?

(Warning: This photo has nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the subject matter of this post. To view larger, click- at your own risk- on image.)

• My children get very excited when they get new underwear. They need to get out more, the children- not their underwear.
• Boxers are, apparently, a sign of manhood.
• We bought Pixie new jeans, even though I swore I was not going to buy her any new clothes. She was all ready for a flood so I caved. She tried them on, liked them, said she’d wear them, yada, yada, yada.
• She is refusing to wear them.
• Pixie comes alive while shopping and trying on clothes…. as long as they are for her.
• I canned 27 pints of tomatoes. My first time canning tomatoes- all of them sealed.
• I canned 14 quarts of peaches Sunday afternoon between church services.
• The pears are ripening while they wait their turn in the canner.
• We went to a parade on Saturday but we got there too late to get a spot on the curb which means the kids didn’t get hardly any candy. (The rules of the parade are that the candy cannot be thrown so only the people right on the curb get any.) The kids were disappointed. I tried to tell them it was fun to just watch the parade and not get candy. Yeah, I know, they didn’t believe me either.
• Sunday we joined other churches in a service at the park. We were about the last to leave- even the clean up crew was gone. Hey, there were people to talk to- who are slower to leave than us.
• We went back to town for evening church because there was a special singer there. Very nice.
• This weekend just flew by!
• I think we are all caught up now.

I know that many of you thought this was a nice, clean, wholesome site, but my next item may call our family friendliness into question.

After a recent grueling day at the office, I was mentally exhausted, nursing a headache, and “hearing” unpleasant things from some rather tight muscles in my shoulders. My family and I had just enjoyed a delightful meal prepared by a particularly lovely and capable chef, who just coincidently happens to be the official webmistress of this web site.

Before pushing back from the table, KJ generously offered to rub my aching back. I thought this sounded like a splendid idea, and proceeded to remove my shirt and stretch my tired carcass out on the floor, belly down, eager to feel the tension oozing away from my body.

Pixie climbed on, and began “rubbing” my back and neck.

Somewhat.

Kinda.

If you use your imagination.

A bit.

Ok, the word “rubbing” might be a stretch. Poking might be more accurate. Actually, she doesn’t do half bad at massaging tired backs sometimes, but this wasn’t one of those times. She was distracted, preoccupied, or perhaps just feeling more like the otter she is.

I felt her arranging a silk ribbon around one of my ears, fluffing it all up “just so.” She paused for a moment, then said something that I really didn’t pay much attention to. I was trying not to fight my body’s desire to lose consciousness, despite the abundance of child noises surrounding me, the ribbon tickling my face, the “rubbing,” and everything else going on. I must say, sometimes I am quite successful in succumbing to a power nap even in the midst of a chaotic environment. So, I wasn’t processing whatever was being said; that might mean that I would have to actually utilize valuable mental resources to distinguish noise and random words from attempts to make genuine conversation.

But there it was again. She repeated herself, and I had no choice but to hear it this time, for the phrase contained my name. She was talking to her brother.

“Papa’s being X-rated!”

Huh? *click!* *whir!* I’m being… what? At this point I verbalized nothing, but my mind was trying to get a handle on what my ears had apparently heard.

I guess the boy wasn’t paying sufficient attention either, for I felt Pix cup her hands on my back, and say, “See? Papa’s being X-rated!”

I’m being what?

“X-rated. So we can see what’s wrong with your shoulder!”

Pause… Ahhh! You’re wanting to see the bones inside my body?

She nods and smiles.

I smile back. I had no idea how pornographic our family massage parlor really was.

A strap on The Boy’s sandal broke awhile back but it still stayed on his foot.

Last Friday, right after we arrived at the park to play, the other part broke. It no longer stayed on his foot. He stayed on the play structure or the grass most of the time to protect his bare feet.

We headed straight to that “Evil Out House” place that is basically the only place to shop here. I knew that trying to find sandals at this time of year was a nearly impossible task. The shoe people and the stores seem to think we need to buy sandals in February and snow boots in August. I have found, from past experience, that if you don’t shop for sandals before the end of April, the selection will be pitiful. Then hope that the child’s foot doesn’t go on a growing spree or they don’t break. So there we were, in need, scurrying (The Boy was shuffling; trying to keep the sandal attached to his foot) to the shoe aisle with very low hopes. The sandals, the few that were still languishing there, were relegated to a small, far section of the shoe area. There were a few scattered sandals for toddlers on the shelf.

And one pair of size four.

On sale.

I think it was a God thing.

Here it is 5 o’clock and I haven’t written a new post yet. Geez! Where does the time fly?

I have been distracted by stuff today. The kids and I went on a “long, long walk”. They ride their bikes and I walk. We went up the some hay sheds about a mile away. We have seen hawks in the trees by there and owls live in the sheds. We didn’t get to see many today though. The Boy said he say a hawk fly by but I missed it. The owls must have been in bed. It seems to take forever, even when I keep them moving at a good pace but I suppose an hour for going about 2 miles is pretty good- by the time we get the bikes out and put away.

I have been putting sprinklers out on the trees for a good soaking. And they are getting that as I keep forgetting to go move the hose. Ah well, it can’t hurt, can it?

The Boy had found a recipe in a Boxcar Children book for making Buns. One “secret” ingredient is missing but it had all the right things to make it work right. He copied it down before returning the book several weeks ago and has been after me to make them. Today was the day. I could hardly contain my enthusiasm. Or maybe it was the other part of the baking crew? Anyway, it was a good experience for him. I tried really hard not to gripe and be patient. The recipe was an old style one- where it lists the ingredients but expects you to know what to do with them. Things like mixing the milk, butter, sugar and salt and then heating them, mixing the yeast with the flour, kneading it and letting it rise. I had to pull out my Better Homes and Gardens cookbook to help me out. I usually let my bread machine do all that stuff. But we pulled it off- it tested The Boy’s patience having to wait for it to rise- not once but twice! They turned out good, even without the secret ingredient.

I have been sending and answering emails about genealogy which is fun but time consuming.

I did some laundry too so now we have something to wear, which will be a vast relief to one of us who has nothing to wear.

My throat feels better. Every time I went into the bathroom yesterday I gargled with salt water. I also took some heavy doses of Vitamin C, etc. etc. So I hope it was just a passing thought.