Grace's Birthday

March 5 ~ Happy birthday, Grace!

To celebrate, Andy and I went up to C & C's on Tuesday, our day off. Andy helped Christian with more work on his addition, cutting tile to finish the flooring. I played with and read to the kiddos. Christy and I were able to do a little visiting, then I occupied the children, while she made Grace's birthday dinner. We had tomato soup and tuna melts (the recipe from LDH). Because of the special diet, C has her family on right now, we did not have cake for dessert. Christian put candles on a 1/2 gallon of ice cream for Grace. He only put 4 on there, but Grace had a hard time blowing them out. She huffed and puffed, and we all laughed at her good natured effort to blow out candles that wouldn't be blown out!

Snow!

What a delight to wake up this morning to all that snow. It was so beautiful, I couldn't resist bundling up and going out with my camera.

When I opened the garage door,
the snow had obviously blown against it.

Andy had fun, too. Last summer we bought a snow blower.
He got to use it today for the first time.

Through the garden gate

I cleared off the bird feeders and filled them up,
then had another glorious show
as they busied themselves around their breakfast.

I was able to get a photo of the cardinal today,
with his bright red against the white snow.Picnic, anyone?

I love the snow. It's so pure, clean and beautiful. And I couldn't help but be reminded of Isaiah 1:18 when God says: "Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow."

The birds of the air...

My current memorization project is the Sermon on the Mount - Matthew 5 - 7. So far, I've made it to the end of chapter 6 which has been especially meaningful and comforting to me in these economic "hard" times.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air;they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow.
They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?" For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Everyone is talking about the economic downturn and how hard things are. Not to dismiss those who have lost their jobs or houses, etc., but really, we in America are still very rich. Andy and I have been to Bangladesh, and we have seen some of the poorest people on earth. They scrounge the gutters and dumps for clothes and scraps of food.Or what about our houses? Even the tiniest house in America is huge and "fancy" compared to houses in the rest of the world. If you need a new house in Bangladesh, you must build it in the dry season because it's constructed of mud bricks. If you wait too long and the monsoons come, your house will literally wash away and you'll be left with nothing but a pile of mud. Well, I admit it is hard not to worry. But God has promised to care for his children, and with His help, I resolve to trust Him. (I need His help, because I cannot trust Him in my own strength.)

All of You is more than enough for all of me,
For ev'ry thirst and ev'ry need,
You satisfy me with Your love.
And all I have in You is more than enough.
words by Chris Tomlin

We had a coating of snow on the ground this morning and the bird feeders are very busy. I had just filled them up yesterday afternoon so am enjoying watching the drama. (It's better than watching tv!)

The little birds were busy on the feeders and on the ground, then all of a sudden Mr. Jay would drop by and all the little ones would fly away. I almost got a picture of Mr. Cardinal, but just as he sat on the bird feeder, old Mr. Wily Squirrel jumped on to get a share. I named the squirrel Wiley, because Andy likes to pop him with his air gun when the squirrel is helping himself to the birds' food. (For all you animal lovers out there, it doesn't kill the "poor thing," just stings him and he runs off.) However, this morning the squirrel was no where around as long as Andy was still home. He must have waited for Andy's truck to leave the driveway, because then he came out of hiding and helped himself to the delicious bird food.

Juncos

tufted titmouse

downy woodpecker on the stand being camera-shy

Old Mr. Wily - caught in the act

We hadn't been up to see Ricky and Amy for a while, so took the day yesterday to do that. We left our house around 10:00 am. Traffic wasn't bad, which is always a concern when you have to travel the Schuylkill Expressway.

Amy made us lunch, then put the kids down for naps. Andy picked up a book Ricky had on the shelf and got hooked. It's a book about Kit Carson that we had given Ricky for Christmas one year. And Amy and I worked on blog stuff. It was somewhat frustrating, though, because her computer is sooooo slow. I got the general idea of what she was showing me and was able to finish up at home. (Notice my new list of blogs along the side.)

When the kids woke up, we decided to drive to the Middle Creek Wildlife Preserve near Ephrata to see if we could observe any snow geese. Andy google mapped how to get there and off we went. Well, the directions we started following did not take us to Middle Creek. We ended up near Reading, in Shillington or Wyomissing - I don't remember which it was. It was near a job that Ricky had worked on and Amy had been there once. We drove onto a road that followed a pretty little stream. It ended in a parking lot with a sign that indicated a trail. So we decided to get out of the car and explore. What a pleasant surprise. As we started walking, we ended up in a beautiful evergreen grove with white pines and Norway spruces. They were huge trees, must have been planted many years ago. It was really nice in there, out of the wind, since it was a pretty blustery day.

One shot of pretty little Joanna in the car seat.

When we got back to the house, Amy made us a delicious dinner of chicken quesadillas, her home grown corn and a salad. I had brought some chocolate chip, cream cheese cupcakes that were left over from our small group. So it was quite a feast. Yummy!

Today it was back to work, but yesterday was a wonderful treat: playing with Chase, holding Joanna, hiking in the pine grove, and being with Ricky and Amy.

Addendum to "My New Baby"

Johnny Cash sings a song:

"Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor..."

I'm changing it to:

"Mama played bass, Daddy sang tenor!"

My New Baby

When the children were very young and I was intensely and constantly involved with them, I often wondered what I would do with myself when they were grown up and gone. Feeding, bathing, tending, changing clothes, entertaining them seemed all consuming.

Since Dawn got married in 2004, I've been praying and wondering what to do. I felt like I needed a hobby, project or something to keep myself busy. I had already done lots of needlework, sewing, and tons of reading over the years, but there was something I was missing. So for 4 1/2 years, I've been in kind of a fog just waiting for an idea. The Lord heard my prayer and gave an answer that even now astonishes me. I wonder why it took me so long to figure this out.

Also in the last number of years, I have been losing my voice. Andy and I had sung duets and led music at church for as long as we were married. But gradually over the last 10 years, my voice has deteriorated to the point where I can only sing about half a song before getting hoarse or ending up with a coughing fit.

I accepted this. After all, getting upset about it didn't solve the problem. But it did seem so strange to sit in the audience while Andy continued to sing up on the platform.

So one day, I don't even know when or how it started, but I began to think of learning to play an instrument (besides the flute) so that I could help out with the worship teams. I knew my mother played the bass sometimes in church, so that got me thinking that perhaps that was what I could pick up as well.

When I mentioned it to Andy, he was very encouraging. The more we thought about it and talked it through, the more we finally decided to see if we could find a bass guitar for me. We checked out Craigs List and found one. It was Thanksgiving week, though, and we had a hard time connecting with the guy who was selling his. Well, if it's to be, it will still be available after the holiday. And it was. We went to see the guitar and it was beautiful. Hardly used...the guy was a classical guitarist and had bought the bass, but then decided it wasn't really what he wanted after all. He sold it for a song! But it was pretty funny when we went to look at it, he handed it to us to test out. Andy had to tell him, "No, that's ok...neither of us play!" He must have thought we were nuts.

So we brought it home and I played around with it for a couple of weeks, then decided I needed to take lessons. So I found a music store close by and signed up. My teacher happens to be a bass jazzist...his fingers go all over that guitar and he sounds fabulous. I am learning a lot and having fun with it, too.

So why did I choose the bass:

1. I want to put a new face to the bass guitarist. Instead of thinking of Led Zeppelin or Paul McCartney when people hear about bass players, they'll think of little old ladies! Interesting, huh???

2. I wanted the challenge of learning a new instrument, but not too challenging. I am very familiar with the treble clef because of my years of playing flute and singing, but wanted to learn the bass clef. But it's not too hard because I only have to play one note at a time.

3. It's keeping me in the delightful field of music which has been so much a part of who I am.

I am really enjoying this new adventure. Every moment finds me in my little nook with my "baby" playing and singing. Life is good!

Singing Frogs, Crying Cats and Reluctant Story Tellers

Andy's Puerto Rico Trip

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It has been 10 days since I (Andy) and my five companions arrived back from a surfing trip to Aguadilla Puerto Rico. Six guys, and not one of us jumped at the opportunity to blog our story. I have been pondering that for a few days wondering why men seem to be reluctant to “tell our stories,” something that seems to come so naturally to our wives. It was a great trip. Why would I not want to “talk about it.” (More about that later). Now the moment that you have all been waiting for, ladies: “The Puerto Rico adventures of Andy, Tom, Jake, Jordan, Tim and Scott.” I was invited to go on this escapade by my son-in-law Tom (may his tribe prosper). (I always said he was my favorite son-in-law.) “Are you sure you want your “Old Man” on your first ever overseas surfing trip,” I asked. “Sure, dad,” he said. I have visited at least 10 different countries, but I had never been on a tropical island. I was pumped! (Can you imagine Phyllis saying, “I was pumped”!!)

Puerto Rico is a hot surfing spot for avid surfing enthusiasts. The name pops up often in the surfing magazines as a place to go if you want big surf. My entire life’s experience on a real surf board (boogie boards are not surf boards) was on a trip to Ocean City with Tom. My total time in the water consisted of about 3 rides on 1 – 2 foot waves. Given the opportunity to embellish upon that experience, I’m sure that I, in classic macho style, could have conjured up a pretty rough surf with waves that would terrify mere mortals.

Back to the story. The funny thing about this trip for me is that even though I was excited about going, I really didn’t even think about surfing. Considering my propensity to hurt myself in novel ways by engaging in risky behavior, that was a good thing. Besides, they don’t have 1 – 2 foot waves in Puerto Rico. That certainly wasn’t true of my testosterone driven, risk taking friends.

Our place was right on the ocean. It looked like paradise island.

We could hear the waves all night long and feel the gentle tropical breezes blowing across our bodies as we slept. But even paradise is not perfect as we were reminded by the incessant chirping of the tree frogs. They sound cute chirping in the trees (for about an hour), but after about 4 hours you think you’re going to go mad. Kind, gentle grown men turned into tree frog killers. They do stop eventually, seconds before you fall asleep in total exhaustion. I would be fine if I never heard another tree frog in my entire life. The tree frogs had nothing over the whining cats. I slept in one of the two bedrooms that isolated me somewhat from the night noises, but no one could miss these cats. If there was a cat Richter scale it would have measured an 8.5 for sure. We had an American family staying next door to us with twin girls and a small baby. I woke up in the middle of the night to what sounded like a baby crying. Having held a few crying babies in my arms in the wee hours of the night, I felt pity for the poor parent. It wasn’t until morning that I found out that it was not a baby, but two cats.

I found out that surfers like to ride around a lot looking for the perfect waves. They all looked good to me, but I discovered that there was a big difference in waves. Waves are measured in more ways that just height. Unless you are totally ambidextrous, you are very interested in whether the waves are breaking left or right. Height was a factor, but so was the pipe or tube. And then there was on shore and off shore winds that had to be reckoned in. There was organized and disorganized surf, choppy surf, clean surf, beach breaks, reef breaks, the curl, lip, pitch, long board, short board, body board, I’m bored etc. etc. I was exhausted just talking about the waves and we hadn’t even started yet. The old adage is often true – “There is no place like home” which is where we ended up spending quite a bit of our time. Some of the biggest and best waves the guys found all week were right out our back door.

That’s where the surfing magazines told us they would be, but you know, we’re guys, we don’t believe that. We have to find out for ourselves.

We had more rain than they had seen for a few weeks, but it didn't last long. Each day had plenty of sunshine and plenty of surf. We had as much sunshine as we did rain.

We enjoyed eating out at the local restaurants in the evenings where there was plenty of good Puerto Rican and American food, tropical ambiance and ocean front views.

I thought it was interesting that in spite of how little we knew about each other, (apart from Tom, I did not know any of the guys that went on the trip), we enjoyed one another's company, got along famously, and had a great time together. We're already talking about going to Costa Rico next year. Sorry I don't have any good pictures of all the guys. That's another guy thing isn't it? We don't like to pose for pictures.

Even though I didn't surf, I did enjoy the water and spent plenty of time in both the pool

and the ocean. I found out that you can't safely crawl across a live reef after I tried it and discovered numerous needles from sea urchins stuck in my fingers and toes. I also enjoyed the solitude and the opportunity for quietness, rest and reflection.

The last day there, we spent on a beach that was less than a mile from the house. The sun was out in all its glory, the beach was mostly deserted, the water was warm (83 degrees) and the surf was mild. Tom tubed out on one of the waves and never left the water until it was dark. He walked home along the beach carrying his surf board. He was happy. We were all happy. It was a great time!

Male rules for story writing;

Never tell the whole story because you won’t be able to embellish it later on.