This last weekend was the expected whirlwind of activity. It blew by entirely too fast for my tastes. I am fully convinced that aliens have come and replaced my father, among other things. The kids and my mother agree with my assessment. Meanwhile, my fellow city residents here in Gravyville are convinced that the world is coming to an end. And, in the land down under, chaos has likewise ensued.
How's that for a teaser? Yes, indeedy, it has been a strange weekend. It started out with us loading up--and I do mean loading--to go to my parents for the long holiday. We decided that it would be a good time to take the crib and changing table and the start of a blue-jillion baby clothes over to my brother and sister-in-law, since little "Dana" is now about half-way done "baking" in her mommy's oven! I don't think they are actually going to name her "Dana," but I have had a good time calling her that until an official name is pronounced. Her mommy told me what her first name will probably be, and I think it is a keeper! But we won't rush them and make them commit to anything right now. "Little Dana" is fine for now. (BTW, Mommy, "Lee" is mine and Steph's middle names! You could kill two birds with one stone!)
We actually took an SUV and a pickup truck loaded to the max. Our doggy, Meg, had to come along, too, because we did not want to leave her home alone. Meg had a fine old time with her "cousins" Bear, Sissy, Bessie Black, and Buster! Of course, Mom's back yard will never be the same. We are still trying to figure out how a rat got in the pool, too. Either the dogs got it, or it fell in and drowned. Either way, it was yucky! Fortunately, my big, brave man dealt with it, and I did not have to see it.
After we got there Saturday, we quickly noticed that there was something different about my dad! For the last several months, he has been in really rough shape with congestive heart failure and various complications of that. I think he finally hit a magic combination with his drugs, and there was so much fervent prayer going up for him, and all the complications have mostly gone away! So he was better than his old self! He is a new man!
He had gotten in the kitchen and used his new mixer to make up homemade dough for 6 huge pizzas! All the daughters got in the kitchen and formed an assembly line, and we made up the most exquisite home-made pizzas! Dad has a special sauce that is "out of this world" (probably the aliens gave it to him!) and we pile on the meats and cheeses according to each kid's likes. We made one of "meat-lover" variety, one of cheeses, and several with "the works" on them. I can't tell you how it beats any of the national chain pizzas--even Pizzeria Uno, my favorite other pizza. While we worked, Dad oversaw the production line with the greatest of animation! He was really fun to watch.
Now you have to understand that we have razzed old dad in the past for being somewhat of a couch potato. He loves nothing better than relaxing, remote in hand. Sometimes, the family would get frustrated, because we might want to turn the t.v. off and sing or play a game, but Dad was not ever too up for that, most of the time. He just enjoys good food, having his family all around, and a good football game--all from the comfort of the Lazyboy sofa.
Well, the bizarre behavior continued into Sunday. After Sunday morning church, we all came back to the house again (this is 16 people we are talking about, which can sometimes feel like feeding the 5000!) and had barbecue. Naps were in order, though I think some got in the pool for a while. Sunday evening services come early at 5, so we all went back to church. On the way out the door after services, Dad asked my three boys if they could all fit in the back seat of his Caddy. They said they thought they could, so off they went with my parents. "Pappy" had ulterior motives. He wanted to sing with the boys--barbershop style!
Dad had figured out that with Daniel singing lead, Micah doing alto, Sam carrying the tenor, and Pappy belting out the bass, they could potentially have a pretty good quartet. Meanwhile, Tim and I hit Krogers for the 3rd time to pick up viddles. When I came in from the store, Dad, Mom, my 3 boys, and Drew, my brother, we all standing in the middle of the den singing. They only had 3 books among them, and so that is why they were standing there. I cannot remember the last time we had a family singing. They had a ball and sang the whole time I whipped up spaghetti and meatballs for 16! We even called up Tim's parents and let them in on the party. They were playing cards and put it on speakerphone so their guests could hear, too. Tim, my sisters-in-law Brooke and Steph, and brother Dan AND our 5 little kids made a funny looking sight crowded in the middle of the den floor singing the roof off.
Dan and Tim usually find some time to argue theology, and Sunday night was no exception. "Parsons" Dan had two great sermons on Sunday, and he and Tim had some thought-provoking discussion that night while the rest of us eavesdropped. Exercising one's use of the scriptures works out your brain like swimming out in the pool works your body. Both are good for me!
Monday brought one more gathering before we had to get back. We spent some time in the pool, though it was very cold (I wished it could have stayed warm just one more weekend!) and the men found a football game. Dad made up some of his tremendous barbecue sauce, and he and Drew grilled hamburgers for Monday afternoon. (Yum! My favorite, besides his pizza!)
Early Sunday morning, Dad had called one of his old Gravyville friends to just check up on him. The fellow is about 90, though you would probably say he looks 70. Mr. Friend told us that over here in Gravyville, our annual big-deal horse show had ended Saturday night without a Champion being crowned. Now that is about like having an election for President and not naming a winner. Except with the President, you know eventually they will name a winner. I don't think there is going to be a winner this year. Apparently, the people who look out for animal abuse came in and disqualified some of the potential Champions, and either the others decided not to go on for support of their comrades, or the decision was just made that this year's show was a bust and that they might as well give up and go home. This government entity had come in on other nights of the show and created havoc as well. They claim to just be enforcing the Horse Protection Act. Whether there are political undertones or not, I just do not know. Whisperings abound that maybe "the powers that be" want to take the horse show from our tiny little town and give it to a bigger city so that it can be a bigger event. That would mean death for our town, I fear.
This is a BIG DEAL in Gravyville, folks. Many vendors make a year's worth of money from the trade that goes on during Horse Show week. I am sure that lots of money was lost by the town which we need for things during the year. Our town is having difficulties anyway, because we have had one of the largest influxes of immigrants of anywhere in these parts. They have economic needs which are met by the extra money we take in during this time. Everything is very much out of kilter, and I don't know how they will fix it. If this town loses the big show, I don't know what will happen to the town.
Anyway, while all this was happening, word came of the death of Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter. This made us all very sad, because Steve was such a part of my kids' childhood t.v. experiences. I can remember my little towheads laying in the floor "oohing" and "aahing" over his unusual antics. Daniel and Sam used to imitate him all the time. He was such fun to watch---such an animated person. One cannot help but be saddened by his untimely death. Also, when someone dies who is exactly the same age as you, it gives pause for reflecting on the brevity of life and one’s mortality. Steve was 44---and now, you know how old I am. Yes, poor Steve was an accident waiting to happen. But he seemed to be a decent guy, and he sure made my kids laugh. What precious kids he had! I feel so sorry for his wife and father, who lost his own wife in a car crash a couple of years back. We will miss the Crocodile Hunter!
Meanwhile, it was the cutest scene, seeing Sarah sitting in her Pappy's lap, plotting how they could get together for "Lefty Art Lessons." Dad and Sarah are the two south-paws of the family, and it is going to require another lefty to teach Sarah how to best enhance her already-evident talent in art. Hannah wanted in on the lessons, too. Whatever big sister does, Hannah does.
Yes, can it get any stranger? My dad is off the couch cooking, singing, and painting, the horse show did not pick a winner for the first time ever in its 68-year history, and Crocodile Hunter is dead. These are weird times we are living in. Everywhere you turn, someone is yelling that these are the last days of the earth. Are they? Nobody knows, but I personally would not be surprised. I cannot remember a time when every institution, every collective body, every establishment of man I know has been so messed up. Nothing is as it should be, yet we go on. So much is out of kilter, and I think that so many of us spend a lot of time ignoring that fact. That is a great annoyance for me, but that, I guess, is another blog.
It has been 25 years or more since I heard a song, but the words play in my head frequently. Maybe it is because so many of the words are taken from the Bible. It went something like this...
"Be ready...For there is an hour...when you think He won't come but He'll come and catch you sleeping....Be ready...keep a bright light burning...He's not far from here...it will soon be clear...You're gonna see His face.... When you look into His eyes...you won't despise...all the sacrifices you've made to be ready...."
It was a beautiful song with such a strong message, just like the Bible passages that talk about being ready for the return of Christ. I don't pretend to be any kind of prophet, but I would not be surprised to hear the trumpet any day now. I know that in the days of Noah, when every thought of man was on wickedness all the time, God called it quits and destroyed the world with the flood. We are not far from that. Every Christian lives for that day when Jesus comes in the clouds--- looks for it, dreams about it, yearns for it. Whether or not it ends up coming in my lifetime, I have set my face towards being ready, because one way or the other, my life will end and the time for obedience will be over. In Revelation 22:20, Jesus testifies, "Yes, I am coming soon." (That was 2000 years ago. How much longer could it be?) John, the beloved apostle, replies, "Come, Lord Jesus!"
I wholeheartedly concur!
