The search for God...

"Everything else can wait, but the search for God cannot wait." -- George Harrison

Revenge of the maple syrup

We've become convinced that plastic water bottles are bad for the children, so we got rid of ours. We'd love to buy Kleen Kanteens but they are out of immediate reach budget-wise, and with warmer weather and hot, sweaty, thirsty children upon us, we were left scrambling for alternatives.

Fortunately, I've been saving all of my glass containers for re-use, so I came up with two maple syrup bottles and two Promised Land milk bottles. Perfect, and the lambs love them!

Except that I didn't remove the labels.

I came through the kitchen a couple of days ago and noticed Moe drinking tea out of a maple syrup bottle. Except he was making a funny face.

Because he was drinking the actual maple syrup, that's why.

He said, "This tea tastes funny!" and I told him to put the syrup down and back away from the refrigerator. And then I spent 20 minutes scrubbing labels off drinking bottles.

Because we're turning green, that's why!

A great compliment

Geddy and I are going to be panelists for the local housing authority's Abstinence Ball!

The invitation read, in part:

"We respectfully request your attendance at this wonderful event so that we may honor you and your spouse for your continued dedication to your marriage...the goal of the event is to honor marriages and allow the youth in this program an opportunity to get a glimpse of positive, successful marital relationships."

We are honored to be asked and can't think of a better way to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary this spring.

"I heard a voice asking, 'What happens after the fire?'"

I was lucky enough to get a few minutes' visit with my sweet pal Angela Tuesday evening (thanks again for the chai latte!). Angela was a bridesmaid in my wedding 15 years ago, was at the births of all three of my children and is in every sense of the word a true friend. So naturally, she wanted to know how I am coping with my brother's death, five months later.

I'm up to about 6.5 minutes of talking about him before the tears come a-knockin'.

"When does that stop?" she asked, and I speedy-quick said "never."

But as usual with real-life stuff, it's more complicated; after all, I'm only five months out and some things have become easier, others even more difficult. I kept thinking about my answer, how I could have explained things better. And when I turned on Roger Daltrey's "Under a Raging Moon" on the way home from our visit, I found the words.

The fire still burns, raging through the pain
Blackening the promises, the tears and the rain
The fire will burn
'Til the wind begins to turn
And it all begins again

After the fire, the fire still burns
The heart grows older but never, ever learns
The memories smolder and the soul always yearns
After the fire, the fire still burns

(Like I said, Ange...never.)

Another year's successful recital

Friday was a whirlwind, with friends visiting. My brother Bubby picked up the children in the early evening to take them to play at his house and to Burger King for my nephew's birthday, so Geddy and I had dinner at a downtown restaurant. We sat outside and shared an appetizer and dessert. For dinner, I had Caesar salad with blackened salmon. It was a very nice (and very rare!) date.

All this led up to Saturday. Curly Sue and I left around 11:30 a.m. for the performing arts center, stopping to grab a lunch on the way. The first show was at 2 p.m., but there were many little girls to help dress, make up for the stage and de-jewelry (the girls aren't allowed to wear jewelry on the stage). I watched the Ballet 2 clowns from the wings and they did very well, but of course my Curly Sue was the best! Nannie and Paw-Paw, Geddy and the boys were at that performance, so after the show, Curly was loaded down with bouquets.

I scrubbed off her face after she changed shows, and we headed to Barnes and Noble down the street with her friend Alicia, whose mom Maribel met us there. My friend Shauna and her girls, Courteney and Emily, also met us there. We had a snack, rested, relaxed, bought some books and headed back to get ready for the 7 p.m. show, where we repeated the afternoon's flurry of activity. Again, the best Ballet 2 clown belonged to me. (Of course, the other mamas might disagree, but then again, this is my blog! ;o)

So now we have a whole year until we have to do recital again. (All God's children say "Amen!")

We were exhausted and got home very late, so we missed church. Unfortunately, we also missed friends who were visiting our church, particularly our new friend Natalie, who was very sad when Curly Sue wasn't at All-Stars. Hopefully, we'll see them there again, though, and we'll definitely have a chance to see Natalie at Six Flags when we go in a couple of weeks with Geddy's company, where Natalie's dad also works.

Better than a bouquet of flowers

I confess, I'm a proud Mama most of the time. However, my youngest stunned us Wednesday night.

The little ones earn points for memorizing Bible verses, completing challenges, bringing their Bibles, journaling, etc. in All-Stars, their church program. They trade the points for "Slam Dunk Dollars" to use in a little store, which they open every three months.

Curly Sue, Moe and my nephews "Aardvark" and "Critter" all participate in this program. They are not required to have this Bible, but it's the one most commonly used, so my children got it for Christmas. Aardvark has one as well but Critter does not, which bothered Moe so much that he spent almost all of his Slam Dunk Dollars and bought one at the store.

We're wrapping it and letting him give it to Critter for his birthday tonight.

And I am very proud.

Like I need another favorite store(s)!

On the enthusiastic recommendations of several people -- okay, mostly posters on The Well-Trained Mind forums, but that's where I get my best information anyway -- I dragged Geddy and the children an hour to scout out Trader Joe's and Whole Foods Market.

We hit Trader Joe's first. It was smallish and hip with a bunch of specialty items like flowers, coffee and wine. We bought some fun things there: sparkling pink lemonade, chocolate-covered raisins, cereal, organic animal crackers, organic uncured turkey hot dogs and sausage and red chai tea. At that point, we decided the drive wouldn't be worth it for us in terms of actual groceries instead of treats.

Then we hit Whole Foods, which is ginormous and definitely would make a monthly trip pay for itself. We made note of the price difference between items we buy at our local grocery from the organic/natural section and at WF, and it was pretty significant in some cases. WF carries Charlie's Natural Soap with a shelf price of $8.99, a full $5 less than the website. Dr. Bronner's soap was cheaper at WF and we were pleased to see several hard-to-find items there as well.

We enjoyed sampling granola, sausage, cheeses, dips and vitamin drinks and treated ourselves to pizza slices and all-natural colas for lunch. Geddy is totally on board with the monthly trip and pointed out how fun it will be to have pizza and all shop together for necessities and some treats at both stores. (I suspect his enthusiasm stems partly from the fact that his favorite drum store is on the way, but that's a different story.)

On another note, I soon will be taking down the Adventures in Allergies blog. I cannot maintain both blogs -- heck, I can barely maintain this one!

Larry is 12 today!

Happy birthday, Mama'sverymostprecioussweetieangelbabyboy! You are and always will be my Doodlebug.

Happy 12th anniversary of being a Mama to me!

(P.S. Larry just looked at this blog entry and wants everyone to know that he is not, in fact, named "Larry." He says to remind you he, his brother and his sister are nicknamed Larry, Curly Sue and Moe on this blog. Collectively, "The Hat Trick." So I'm passin' that along, bein' as it's his birthday and all.)

Being cool

Church yesterday was tough. I was in a sullen mood all morning. I couldn't get into worship because all my junk was cluttering my mind. So I did what any self-respecting almost-40-year-old would do: I went to get my ears pierced for the second and third times.

I thought that would help me feel cool.

See, every day, I look down and see my hands looking old. I look in the mirror and see my face getting old. Gray hairs aren't a novelty any longer, but an actuality. I loathe Top 40 music. I do the same 45 jobs every day and have the same 100 conversations with my children every week. I am not cool.

Yesterday, I felt particularly insignificant, as meaningless as an unvisited grave.

But God in his mercy showed me in a most glorious manner that He never, never forgets about me. And if He can't reach me in His house, He'll find me wherever I am.

Or send someone else to find me.

I sat pouting in the passenger seat while Geddy filled the gas tank, and I noticed a beat-up car beside us at the gas station. It was still running as the tank automatically filled, and the driver was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, great!" I grumbled. "We'll probably all get blown up."

I glared at the car's owner as she came out of the store. Believe me, I made all the usual assumptions. I heard Geddy say something, and suddenly there she was, tapping on the glass of my window.

"Excuse me," she said when I opened the door, "but do you remember me?"

Nope. Never saw you before in my life.

"You gave me and my grandbaby a ride home one day."

Oh! Um...

Then I remembered her. She and her little granddaughter were walking home from a convenience store last January in the bone-chilling, wet Georgia cold. I stopped and bundled her and the little girl into the front seat of my warm car, then drove them the mile or two to her daughter's house.

I asked after them, and she told me her daughter and granddaughter have moved back into town. She lives in the next state but visits them often. I wished her well and we drove on.

I was thoughtful -- humbled -- but no longer sullen.

It only took me half a second to pull over and offer that ride. No trouble, no time, no money. Me? I forgot all about it as soon as we delivered them to the door. Yet more than a year later, this woman still remembered. It may have been inconsequential to me, but it clearly meant something to her. I meant something to her.

Later, I had three holes punched in my ears. My new earrings look gorgeous. And I got my wish, because before we went to sleep, Geddy told me I'm cool.

"Yeah," I said, fingering my sparkly ears. "Aren't they pretty?"

"Not because of those," he said. "But because today, you were mistaken for Jesus."

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." -- Hebrews 13:2.

The pilgrimage of sorrow

This is a slightly altered version of the e-mail Daddy sent us all Monday, after he and Mama drove 2.5 hours to the place my brother died. Ms. C is the woman who hit Ben.

Dear Family,

You may or may not want to read all these details because some may upset you, but here they are:

Mom and I left at 8AM and drove via Highway 16 to Monticello, arriving around 10AM. It was a nasty day with drizzle all the way down, which added to the sadness of why we were making the trip. The secretary at the District Attorney's office was very nice and forewarned us that some of the pictures were graphic and might be disturbing.

The SKRT Team report was very thorough and contained a great deal of technical data on each vehicle (including a "black box" type module in the Ford Aerostar's air bag deployment system with a millisecond recording of wreck characteristics), detailed traffic citations and driving information on each driver (plus the court information on Ben's past run-ins), weather seasonalities for the area, topography, detailed measured and scaled drawings of the wreck site, copies of search warrants, reports of recorded statements by Ms. C and the witness, numerous photographs and other very detailed information. It took us about an hour to go through the report and there was much that we didn't understand, but in its entireity it confirmed that Ms. C was totally responsible for the wreck by failing to maintain her lane and causing the head on collision. The pictures did show Ben in his vehicle with his left elbow in the driver's window (like you would expect someone to be doing on a sunny day), his head forward on the airbag, appearing to be asleep. It was heartrending but peaceful looking even though the vehicle sustained tremendous damage primarily to the passenger's side. It was noted in the report that the equipment in his van played a significant role in his injuries.

The secretary said Ms. C was to be arraigned shortly and a court date would be set. She is being charged with Vehicular Homicide, a misdemeanor, and failure to maintain lane. There will be no jail time, we were told. We will be informed of the court date and the court is open to anyone who wishes to be present. We will pass this information on to you when we get it.

We initially went the wrong way on (the highway) but backtracked and located the spot where the accident happened. It was still marked with the highway patrol markings on the pavement. Mom and I took several pictures from various angles just for our own information. Interestingly enough, Mom found a pair of sunglasses in the debris left by the side of the road from the wreck. They may or may not have been part of the wreck itself, but it was ironic that Ms. C had told the Highway Patrol that she "might have been reaching into her glove box for sunglasses because it was a sunny day" even though she has no real recollection of the accident. Mom decided to leave them by the roadside where she found them.

We went by (the local newspaper) and picked up copies of the issue of November 8th which had a picture and write up about the wreck on the front page. We bought a copy for each of you.

Our trip home was uneventful and the weather cleared a bit with no rain. The report will be available "to our lawyer" after the court proceedings have concluded. I don't believe I want it myself. Call or E-mail me if you have any questions.

Love to all,

Dad