Oh to Be 88 and Be Like Gladys Hardy!

How Did I Do That?

I'm not quite sure how I managed to create the chaos that I did yesterday...but when I went back to pick up the boys from the leadership conference, I parked where I thought the teacher said to park. Across the street from the high school.

Right at 2:30, I saw a large clump of high schoolers mill out of the gym and stand at a corner. My son called to ask where I was, so I told him I was across the street, where I was pretty sure I was supposed to be...but I would drive over to where he was. I assumed I must have made a mistake.

But no...I hadn't!

The large clump of students started to head across the street. My son called again to tell me to wait...but I couldn't, because a long line of mothers in cars saw me and followed me.

Pretty soon, the clump of students froze in confusion, the mothers were doing U-turns and creating traffic jams, the Leadership teacher looked as if she needed two Advil and a hot bath. To add to the drama, some seagulls started swooping and divebombing the clump of kids.
The girls, worried about their hair, yelled, "Take cover!!!!"

Took a little longer to get the boys into the car and back to school than I had expected.

Boys!

This morning, I drove six 17-year-old boys from one high school to another high school for an all-day leadership conference...and I still can't stop smiling from the experience.

Listening to their conversation felt like trying to keep track of a ping pong ball.

"Hey!" one shouted while we were still in the high school parking lot. "How come that girl has a new BMW?"

"Cuz she didn't lose her Iphone for two whole months so her dad rewarded her with a BMW."

"Sheesh...I wish I had parents like that."

"Nah, you don't. And think what it would like to be married to her." (In a high squeaky voice) "Honey, I need a new car. Mine is two weeks old! And if you don't get me one, I'll call Daddy."

"Hey, if you gained 200 more pounds, you could get a football scholarship to a Pac-10 school."

"But then he'd weigh 450 pounds."

(And I do have to say...my poor mini-van was so loaded down with six 200 pounders...I felt like Wilma Flintstone, pedaling madly. I didn't dare go on the freeway because I was afraid the car had no ability to accelerate.)

When we got to the school, the boys piled out of the car. The automatic door befuddled them...one shut the door on one kid as he tried to get out. The other side was left wide open.

I just shook my head, watching them go, tripping each other, intentionally, as they sauntered off to the conference. Can't wait for the return trip, late this afternoon.

Boys are just so...funny.

So Here's Something Weird...

This photo was taken when I was in France last month. It's from the Munich airport...and it is a glass box for travelers to smoke in.



It was so weird! They must have felt like animals in a cage. Most likely, they felt that way because I was taking photos of them.



They didn't seem to care, though. They just puffed away.

BFF: Best Friends Forever!

This is one of those "awwww, shucks" kind of true stories.

It's only the first quarter that counts

On Saturday, we went to my son's basketball game played against a team that shall go nameless...suffice to say that it was a private school known for recruiting giants from another planet. (I kid not! One boy was 6'8", two were 6'6"...and this school has NINE coaches. That is virtually a 1 1/2 to 2 coach-player ratio. Sheesh! How many coaches does a team need?)


The giants started the game as if they hadn't had their coffee yet. Amazingly, my son's team was up by six points in the first quarter! I took a picture as proof because I knew no one would believe me.



So as they took a break after the first quarter, the giants' coaches hand fed their players with cafe lattes and warm chocolate chip cookies and gave them neck rubs. Just the energy boost they needed. When the buzzer rang, that team came out on the court with an evil gleam in their eyes.

They soon took the lead...and kept it.

Still, it was a great game. The gym was packed, the 6th man was out in full force, our entire team had a chance to play and the crowd roared with every bucket. And I did my best not to laugh out loud when one giant tried to dunk a basket, missed, and fell down on his extra-large sized bottom.




My son's team lost, badly, but with dignity. The final score was 75-44...but it's pretty cool to think that his team earned 44 points off of a school that is ranked in the top ten high school basketball teams in the country!

For now, anyway. We have a re-match to look forward to.

And this week, our team will be playing their cross-town rivals. Stay tuned!

Men, Take Heed! A Little Marital Advice

A little humor to start your weekend off on the right foot...

What Happened to that Pan of Cinnamon Rolls?

So, last Friday, in preparation for the Breakfast Feed with the Varsity basketball players, I made a batch of homemade cinnamon rolls. My finest! They looked worth photographing.




I set the pans of delicious cinnamon rolls to cool on the kitchen counter. My husband and I went out for dinner.

When we returned, one pan was on the kitchen floor, licked clean.




The likely culprit, who didn't even have the decency to look guilty, never had a stomachache or any of those unpleasant digestive issues that can go along with stealing an entire pan of cinnamon rolls.



What really burned me is that when I went to the store, early Saturday morning, I found cinnamon rolls in the bakery that were even better looking and tasting (and not very expensive!) than the ones I had made.

Why do I make life harder than it needs to be???

De Ja Vu! Thanksgiving Dinner

Last Saturday morning, fourteen Varsity basketball players came to our house for a "Breakfast Feed" before a big game.

I spent two days preparing for the meal, on top of three trips to the grocery store. The menu included three egg casseroles, a huge bowl of fresh berries, custom ordered waffles complete with syrup & whipped cream, sausage, cinnamon rolls (more on those in tomorrow's post), and gallons of fresh orange juice.

Those boys ate the meal in fifteen minutes! I timed them.




I felt just like I do after Thanksgiving dinner...days of preparation. Gobbled up in fifteen minutes.





And then...just like after Thanksgiving, they had to get on to the important business of watching sporting events on television.


All that remained were dishes.



Mountains of dirty dishes.




But...the boys (if you could call them boys. One was 6'6"!)...well, they won their game!

PS on Inauguration Day

Wonderful, powerful prayer by Pastor Rick Warren.

Happy Inauguration Day!

Looks like a beautiful day in Washington D.C. today! Cold...but sunny.

Even though I am a wee bit disappointed not to have received an invitation to an Inaugural Ball...not any, not a single one...

(Never mind that this 2009 Inauguration comes with a price tag of over $130 million! Billed as America's biggest party. Looks like every rock star and actor and VIP on the planet will be there! Sheesh! Security alone for these A-listers is probably 90% of the tab. And just who is picking up the tab for this bash? Oprah? Nope...think again. The answer is the federal government...which is a code word for us little taxpayers. The ones who weren't invited. Kind of amazing that there is enough cash for a 24-hour party in the midst of a deep, deep recession, when many states, like mine, are giving their teachers IOUs. But...I digress...)

What I meant to say was that I will be watching the Inauguration on television. Along with the rest of the world. I just heard on CNN that more people around the world will be watching this Inauguration on television than any other event in history...ever!

And I fully expect to have that catch-in-my-heart feeling as I witness another peaceful transfer of power in my lifetime.



Really, it's a miracle we should never, ever take for granted.

And may God bless President Obama. There are enormous expectations heaped on those shoulders. May he surpass everyone's expectations!

Miracle on the Hudson

Captain Sullenberger, the pilot of the US Airways flight who landed his damaged aircraft on the Hudson River, lives locally. Everyone is talking about him! Even when I played a tennis match the other day...my opponents were talking about him. My friend, Ann, knows his wife. Our schools have "Congratulations Captain Sully!" on their lighted marquees. We're all so proud of our local hero!

Amazing,too, to think of his interest in safety issues. As if his entire life was preparing him for that very moment.

I keep thinking of that verse in the Bible, in the book of Esther, Chapter 4, verse 14: "And who knows but that you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this and for this very occasion?" (Amplified)

Besides having the calm state of mind to handle a crisis so admirably...his family also happens to be puppy raisers for Guide Dogs for the Blind.

There's a terrific article about him on the Guide Dogs for the Blind blog.

Like I've always said...Guide Dogs for the Blind is filled with wonderful folks who are changing peoples' lives. One dog at a time!

BTW...Captain Sully has been invited to be at the Presidential Inauguration on Tuesday.

What a week for Captain Sully! He must be dazed. Such a great, inspiring story of a man who was well prepared to do the right thing at the right time.

Next time I fly, I'm actually going to pay attention to the flight attendant when he describes the emergency landing procedures.

Sunday Service!

A Visit from Pepe Le Pew

My husband woke me up early yesterday morning with the news that he had let our labrador retriever outside and she had been sprayed by a skunk. And he was sorry but he had to get to work. "See ya!" he called out.




I found a skunk defuser recipe that I had cut and saved, hoping I would never need to use it.

I spent the next hour washing the dog, twice, outside in the cold with a hose, because she smelled so bad! She was cold, I was cold. She was unhappy, I was unhappy.

But Mr. Pepe Le Pew, now he was a happy camper.


Even today...the house has a lingering aroma of Monsieur Le Pew.

Please Tell Me He Didn't Just Say That...

At the dinner table last night, the subject came up of heavy sleeping/light sleeping.

Steve's a heavy sleeper and I'm a light sleeper. I like to read before falling asleep...and I have no pity for Steve complaining about the light remaining on because he can fall asleep within one minute. (Sometimes even less than a minute! That is not an exaggeration. It is a documented fact.)

So my two sons were listening to this conversation. The 17-year-old said, "Man, Dad. You're so lucky. I wish I could fall asleep that easily. I have trouble falling asleep in different places."

My older son asked him, "Huh? What do you mean?"

My 17-year-old responded (yes, he actually said this!): "Well, like, in English class. I tried to sleep and just couldn't."

Michelle, my Belle

Meet little Michelle, an 11-week old yellow lab puppy in training for Guide Dogs for the Blind, an amazing, wonderful, life-changing organization.

99 Balloons

I was doing some research on Edwards' Syndrome and came across this YouTube clip. It is quite remarkable--a very well done video narrated by Eliot's dad. I couldn't help but be impressed by this young couple who handled an unexpected situation with grace, gratitude, and an awareness that God has a plan. Ginny was about seven months along when she discovered that her baby had Trisomy 18 (aka Edwards' Syndrome).



I did a little digging and found out that Matt and Ginny just had a new baby, Hazel. You can follow their story at their blog: Matt and Ginny's blog.

PS From Yesterday

Yesterday, I wrote about how many of those residents in Dad's dementia units were once normal, healthy, vibrant people.

And now, they can't even cut their own chicken. (My dad didn't know what to do with the chicken leg on his plate. Another life skill lost, I realized.)

As I mentioned, each person on that floor has a story to tell but it's now too late for them.

It's not too late for you.

If you have a story to tell (and all of you do!)...be sure to write it down or tell someone. Preferably someone without Alzheimer's. :)

If you have a relationship to mend, an apology to offer, an "I love you" unexpressed, a memoir unwritten, don't wait.

It doesn't have to be a bestseller. It just has to be your story.

To borrow a quote from Eugene Peterson:

“Everytime someone tells a story well, the gospel is served.”

Conversations with Dad

On Saturday, after attending my friend's father-in-law's memorial service (which, btw, was very meaningful and a celebration of a life lived well)...I stopped by my dad's facility. The plan was to swoop in and take him to get a haircut, then drop him at my brother's so I could zip home in time for my son's basketball game.

As soon as I walked onto Dad's Special Neighborhood floor (code for lock down unit), my heart sunk. Lunch was just getting served, ever so slowly, and Dad sat at the far, far table. The last table to be served.

I knew I needed to just sit patiently while Dad ate...along with the rest of the residents of the dementia unit. Now, I don't mean to make light of a sad situation...but watching twenty-five people with varying degrees of dementia eat...well, that is not an easy thing to do. If one has a tendency toward the squeamish, like I do, it is downright...unappetizing.

The staff was very patient and kind. They asked each resident if they wanted soup or salad. Most of them couldn't make a decision of such import...which considerably slowed down the process, I noticed, glancing at my watch.

Then, in between the soup/salad and chicken/sandwich courses, a woman started screaming. She wasn't being served fast enough, apparently. (I sort of agreed but at least I didn't scream.) The woman seated next to her clucked her tongue and chided her as if scolding a toddler: "There are nicer ways to ask."

Aside from the lady who kept falling asleep in between spoonfuls of soup, and the other lady who kept wandering to the table to hold my hand, and many other less appealing behaviors that I won't even mention out of kindness for my readers...

...I did observe something that caught my heart. Most of the women had very expensive jewelry on--pearl necklaces and gold wedding rings.

It hit me that all of these residents were probablyy very well educated people, living in the San Francisco Bay Area, who had lived full lives until Alzheimer's claimed them.

Each resident had a story to tell, had lived through an interesting century, loved and is loved...yet they couldn't tell their story anymore. Most of them couldn't even feed themselves anymore.

Still, each person mattered.

Highs and Lows

My high school son is a varsity basketball player. His team had the first league game the other night and Tad was "in the zone." Had one of those terrific games--made 12 points, played a sizeable chunk of the game, drove hard to the basket, made two 3 pointers, etc. He was even in the paper the next morning!



We don't take a minute of this experience for granted. Tad has plenty of games in which he sits on the bench, or is subbed in and makes an error and is quickly yanked. We have a lot of empathy for the benchwarmers. A lot.

But God has a pattern with my kids, which I attribute to years of prayer on their behalf. Just in case "the big head" becomes a temptation, God quickly permits a "zing"...just to keep things in perspective.

So the very next day after Tad's big game, he was pulling out of the high school parking lot, made a left turn (illegal after 3pm) and was nabbed by a grumpy cop. His first ticket!



And the fun of the preceding evening evaporated, like mist, as a day spent in traffic school appeared.

My Cover!

This non-fiction book, my first with Revell/Baker, will release October 1st. I just received the cover...isn't it beautiful?!

It only works if the info is IN it!

During last Sunday's tidy up (code for MAJOR clean-out) of my mom's apt., my sister happened across a large plastic folder box. It was marked "What To Do in Case Something Happens to Me."

Years ago, in one of many attempts to get Mom organized, Wendy had bought her that box. It's a great concept. All of the critical information required in an emergency is in one spot: doctors, medical info, medical directives, important phone numbers, etc.

Now, remember, we were surrounded by mountains of junk that my mother has saved...empty paper bags, ball point pens, stamps, index cards, newspaper clippings, old pictures (on and on...sigh...you get the idea).

But the "What To Do In Case Something Happens to Me" box was empty.

Visit El Paso! But...why?

During the endless football games that have been dominating the television lately, I've seen a commercial for El Paso, Texas that is one for the "Huh?" Collection.

VISIT EL PASO: IT'S MORE THAN YOU IMAGINED!

I can't quite figure out if it is a brilliant ad campaign or a really lame one. You certainly can't fault it...I doubt many have imagined much about El Paso. Nor considered it to be on their "got to get to before I die" destination list.

It's sort of like complimenting a new mother on her less-than-beautiful baby with an enthusiastic: "Now there's a baby!"

A Donation Sunday

I spent Sunday with my sister and niece...cleaning out my mother's studio apartment. My mom is a very sweet woman...but housecleaning has never been a priority (and I'm putting that in the kindest possible way).

While my niece kept my mother occupied, my sister and I tossed and organized and tossed some more. We filled up giant black trash bags with...stuff. My mother has only lived in this apartment at her retirement facility about seven months so it's astonishing that she has turned that little space into a packed-to-the-ceiling, no-horizontal-surface-space-left room.

And yet...she has!

A few years ago, we had to clean out my parents' 3,000 square foot house. It took months! After each purging. I would leave their house feeling thoroughly drained, with only enough energy to take a hot bath and go to bed.

My sister has a little bit (maybe a lot) of my mother's packrat tendencies. Wendy is really trying to correct that trait. (Her daughters have threatened her with abandonment if she doesn't get a handle on her packratness.) Wendy has even hired an organizer lady, Ruth, to help her.

A few days ago, Ruth called to tell Wendy she was doing some talks to the public about organizing. "Would you mind if I took some 'before' pictures of your garage?" Ruth asked Wendy.

The thing is...there was no mention of any 'after' photos.

Marley & Me

Just saw the movie Marley & Me and would definitely recommend it. I really enjoyed the book and had the privilege of interviewing the author for Guide Dogs for the Blind. John Grogan is a very nice guy. He took some pix with my puppy-in-training, Brent. As you can see, he was stunned by Brent's "mellowness." (Brent is exceptionally mellow. Kind of the opposite of Marley.)






I liked the movie better than I thought I would. It stayed fairly true to the book, which is basically a story about a guy and his dog.


For most of the movie, the dog plays a secondary character to the main theme of John Grogan's vague discontent with his career.
Toward the end, Marley takes center stage. In some ways, the end was really the best part.

Sad, though. If you've ever gone through the loss of a beloved pet, it will churn up those memories. Take a couple of hankies.


I do think they shortchanged the audience with Marley's puppyhood...which lasted only about five minutes.


Turns out that the adorable little pup (whose real name is Woodson)who played Marley in the movie was offered as a gift to the Grogan family. After a few weeks, the Grogans noticed that he didn't seem to jump and run quite like a normal lab. The vet discovered that Woodson has a severe genetic defect. The breeders offered the Grogans a pup in exchange...but the Grogans declined the offer. They're committed to Woodson.


This is a quote from John Grogan: "Woodson will never go hunting or hiking or even on long walks, and that's OK. Some dogs are put on this Earth just to love you."

Kind of sums up why the movie (or book, or both) is well worth your time.

Happy New Year!

Today is the start of something new.

As promised...here are a few things to get excited about in 2009:

1) For now, gas prices are low. Savor them.

2) A new season of American Idol starts in a few weeks! Good, clean fun.

3) The peaceful transfer of power will once again occur in our country in a few weeks. In light of human history, it's always a miracle to behold!

4) Michelle and Barack Obama and daughters will be fun to watch in the White House, whether you voted for him or not. Obama has so many expectations piled on him...my prayer is he will be able to exceed them.

5) My new Iphone. OH MY GOODNESS. I love that little piece of equipment. I guard it better than I do my purse.
Everyday is a new delight because I discover yet something new that it can do! I'm just on the tip of the iceberg...this little plastic box is revolutionary. Best thing, for me, is that it helps free up my time from the computer. That helps combat "writer's tushie syndrome." The only thing the Iphone is lacking is the ability to have word documents on it. If Apple could figure that out...wow...

6) The owl box my husband built for me for Christmas.
This is the year I am going to win the battle with that gopher who has taken over my garden...along with his large extended family. The owl box will also take care of the two mice who live under our deck and eat up the sunflower seeds in the bird feeder. I have high hopes for you, Mr. Owl, wherever you are!

7) And the biggest things to look forward to of all...I have two books that will release this year. For the Love of Dogs in late February and Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World on October 1st. Kinda excited about those.

It's going to be a great year!