The Stowaway

This little guy joined us on our little fishing trip the other night. He didn't make his presence known until we were nearly back to the bank where we keep the canoe. I begged him to stay, that we weren't far from his home and possibly his family, but nothing doing. He jumped. I thought he was committing suicide, but Tom reassured me that mice are good swimmers. Sure enough we watched until he safely reached the bank. Do you think he'll have found his way back home? (It wasn't too far off from where he jumped and he swam to the right side of the creek.) Oh, I hope so.

Paddling Up the Creek

It's too late at night to blog. I'm just about to go swish through the pool and then head to bed...but for tomorrow's blog...A Lovely Evening on French Creek (and a stow-away guest in the canoe).

Ahhhh, Summer!

Campfires and swimming pools
Porch swings and  flowers
Bike rides and picnics

Weeding and lawn mowing

Bug bites and sweating

Drought and sunburn

Take the good with the bad and enjoy every single day of it!

Last year we intended to take a long canoe trip, but it didn't happen.

I better get it scheduled before summer gets away from us.

The end of the story

Continuations don't work all that well for me.  But someone asked so...

I was mowing in the tree nursery and Tom had moved on, out of sight to the next field. It was dusk. When I turned around at the end of the row and headed back toward the woods it was awfully dark up ahead. Dark enough that my mind started making up trouble. What if there's a bear in the woods? What if it's a mama bear? What if I get between her and the cubs? What if she thinks I'm getting too close with this noisy mower?

Oh brother. That's ridiculous. So I forge ahead cutting down the weeds, grateful to have reached the end of the row where I can turn around and see the daylight as I head back toward the road. But as I turn my back to the woods I imagine that ole mama bear charging out to swat me with her huge paw. My heart pounds. I run with the mower still roaring. I run right through a spider web that I never saw coming. The wispy strands cross my face and arms. I scream, let go of the lawn mower, frantically slap my arms, looking for the spider that was no doubt crawling on me right now, but I also have to whip around and make sure the bear isn't bearing down on me. Heart pounding, prickly hot, sweating... my panting slows, I breathe deeply, regain a modicum of composure -- not sure if I'm more embarrassed about the scream or the imagined bear and spider. I can still hear Tom's tractor in the distance. I can't see anyone walking the road; surely the noisy mower muffled my cry of distress. All's well with the world and this is a great stopping point (both for mowing and for story telling). The only problem is I'm still feeling a little jumpy and the car is parked up by the dark woods. I fish keys from my pocket, place my thumb on the panic button, try to whistle a happy tune and waltz surreptitiously to the van. Well, I beat it out of there without incident. No spider on my clothing. No bear scratch down my back.

Did I say working in the nursery is exhilarating? Oh yeah. It's challenging, exhausting, and an exercise in courage. I believe in a heavenly Father who cares for me. Everyday I pray that he'll use me in his service. But  I don't mean anything like use me for bear bait... Hmmm, God loves me unconditionally. My love in return has conditions... Like everything else in life, it's complicated.

2 Things

One -- it happened. I'm turning into my parents. We decided on Saturday morning that we could indeed make a trip to our old hometown for our nephew Tommy's graduation party. Bonus -- we'd get to see a couple of our kids and grandkids. But we had very limited time if we both went. Tom leads worship at our church so we couldn't leave before noon-thirty-ish (if I took him with me...and since he wanted to go and I didn't relish the thought of driving the distance alone...he was going with me). He also had to be back to prepare a breakfast at work on Monday morning. So zip-zip we decided to leave after church, drive 3 hours, stay 3 hours, and drive back 3 hours. My parents used to do those kind of crazy trips. And yes, I thought they were nuts. What does that make me? Nutty too. Wonderfully nutty, frivolously spontaneous -- Tom and I enjoy each other's company in the car (as do my mom and dad when they travel), we had the priviledge of congratulating my brother's youngest son on his graduation and acceptance to a fine art school (I don't know if it's a school of fine arts, I just know it's a prestigious art school), and we got to see our kids and have a serendipitous opportunity with the little ones. We're bonding through quality moments since we're lacking in quantity of face-to-face moments.

Two -- should I save this for tomorrow? Problem is in my vocab "tomorrow" means some other day when I get around to it, 2-3 days or 1-2 weeks ;-). So I'll mention it and expound later. I mowed in the nursery last evening while Tom ran the big tractor on the outer perimeter and nearby fields. It's absolutely exhilarating to me, mowing. I love the exercise. I love the look of the little Christmas trees all in a row. I love the reward of having rescued the littlest seedlings from weeds. When the field is terribly overgrown, which it wasn't last night, I sing an old hymn Rescue the Perishing while I mow.

Just about dusk, Tom moved out of sight and hearing distance with the tractor. That's when my imagination goes amok. It's dark in the surrounding woods...that's the part I'll save for "tomorrow".

An oasis

This is where Nathan lives. Isn't it something? Like, how did this little utopia survive the wrecking ball? Trees, garden, and a yard...an artists compound...in the center of a parking lot, cement, and factory complex. Incredible.