Charlyn’s Web

Because I can’t stand to do it every year.

Have you ever tried to get a decent shot of three wild creatures?

Someone is always doing something….odd.

I told them to look happy for the Grandparents and they looked like they were in pain.

One pouts, another grimaces, someone sticks hands on faces.

Add to that lighting issues, dog’s tails, sheet malfunctions and my patience flew out the window.

158 photos later, I threw in the towel. If I get around to mailing out a Christmas photo, it just very well may be one of the above.

I was in the nursery at church during Sunday School. Normally, I am not there during that time but one of the helpers was gone so I was conscripted. I had to work on the Church’s bills and therefore wasn’t much help, per say, just another adult in the room. One has to be so careful these days. Sigh.

Anyway, I was busy working on things, trying to keep my papers from being stepped on and scattered about when I tuned into a conversation.

Pixie is addressing her future husband: “Please put the seat up when you go pee because if you don’t it gets wet and then I might sit in it.”

Oh my. The nagging begins.

I have a new friend. Aren’t you all proud of me? Now I have about 12 readers of my blog, maybe. Actually, she doesn’t always read my blog- that is until I nag her to death about it. “Have you seen my post? Did you read it? What did you think? Huh? Huh?” You should be glad you don’t live close to me?

But I digress. We, this friend and I, have talked about how there are people in our lives who have the knack of saying negative things right off when we tell exciting/good news. They are the people that take the wind right out of your sails.

The good news: I dyed my hair purple!

The response: You getting ready for Halloween a bit late, aren’t you?

The good news: I’m pregnant!

The response: You know how that happens, don’t you?

Note: Just to stop the rumors in their tracks- those were totally hypothetical conversations. I do not have purple hair nor am I pregnant.

I wondered at the time how many times I do such things to other people especially with my tendency to see the negative side of things so much.

I got my answer this last Sunday, and it ain’t pretty.

I walked into the nursery with the girls a few minutes past when Sunday School should start. A lady commented that we were there early today. I was a bit flustered because I had hoped to get there earlier than we did and said that very thing. She kindly said that she hadn’t meant to offend but was trying to be an encouragement. I thought- geez! could I have been any more ungracious?

Then, after pot luck, one of the ladies told me she had put my left over rolls into an old hot dog bag for me. Instead of saying a simple “Thank you!”, because I was thankful, I said “oh I had some bags over here.” Talk about spitting on people’s kind gestures.

It’s those small things sometimes that show us our true nature. And if I mess up on the small things- how will I handle the big ones?

Graciousness. Something to long for.

After last Christmas, I decided to go the “minimal” route and leave most of my knick-knacks packed away. Even a beautiful object doesn’t look good under a coat of dust. Also, even though I try, there are the odd balls, stuffed toy, sock or airplane being thrown around which can wreck an artfully laid out display in seconds. Then, there are the little hands that just have to move things around and re-organize the display. It wasn’t worth playing havoc with my control issues to have it all out.

This Autumn as the leaves started to turn, I thought it would be nice to put out a few “fallish” items to celebrate the season. But everywhere I turned I found the spot already “decorated”

On top of the piano.

On the antique buffet.

Here’s a detail of the tractor- the other tractor gets hooked up to the “implement” every other day. You know, for variety.

On the printer.

On the shelf.

The shelf and printer are unique because they not only have tractors but also have airplanes. The airplanes were there first and then it was decided that it was the season for tractors. A close up of the planes.

They are everywhere. I don’t know where this decorator came from or who gave him permission to decorate my house but come Christmas time I’m staging a coup! I will take back what is mine! There will be no lights on tractors! No shining balls on airplanes! I am woman and I am strong!

Who is with me?!

The Local Homeschool group is having a weekly sports time. Right now they are learning how to play soccer. This is for the older kids and The Boy just squeaks in. He has been enjoying it very much and it’s great for him to learn about various sports.

It’s at a local park and The Girls can play on the play structure with the other young children. Last week another Mom, Mrs. J, decided to take the younger ones- from about 5 up- and show them how to play too. Pixie decided she didn’t want to do that and played with the real young children. She likes to “mother” all the toddlers.

On the way home, Pixie asked-“Do the kids learning how to play soccer with Mrs. J have to wear the green thingys?”

Hmmm, green thingys? Oh yes, the green jerseys the kids on one team wear to distinguish the teams from each other.

No, the little kids don’t have to wear those.

“Oh, good! Then next week, I’ll go play with them!”

That’s my girl! Always got fashion on her mind.

A new boy has moved into our circle of friends.

Miss Sunshine calls him “My Friend”. She hardly ever uses his name.

“I want to sit by My Friend!” she proclaims at Sunday School.

“I am making this for My Friend.” she declares.

She is going to marry him.

The problem is that her sister also wants to marry him.

At least we are keeping it in the family.

Pixie calls him by his name and they are picking out houses together.

The Girls get into arguments about who is going to marry whom.

“I’m going to marry him!”

“No! I am going to marry him!”

Sigh.

I tell them that we’ll decide this in about 20 plus years. The longer the better.

The Brother, at dinner today, just to stir the pot, asked The Sisters if they loved this boy.

“I gave my heart in his heart.” Sunshine poetically proclaimed.

My heart sinks. What is a mother to do? I have been warned that he had a girl he was going to marry when he lived back East but now he has thrown her over because she is too far away.

I don’t know. A fickle, boy from the East. What could be worse??? What is a mother to do?

Well, we aren’t picking out wedding dresses yet but I’m keeping my eye on that boy.

There are times when raising children that one feels that the child will grow up to be the most selfish, inconsiderate, obnoxious person out there. It’s a challenge to tear the child away from selfish desires and teach them to think of others. It’s not a natural thing. I am dismayed to see my child go over to another and whack him for no apparent reason- or, I should say, no apparent reason that I can see. Then one refuses to let another have a toy even though she isn’t playing with it at that time. These things can trouble a mother’s heart.

When we were visiting The Grandparent’s this summer the kids partook of many treats. The freezer at Grandma’s is full of really good stuff- ice cream treats and Popsicles. She also bakes very well. After lunch the kids got to have Popsicles. I dolled them out, trying to avoid the arguments about what color every one wanted, and gave The Boy broken ones two days in a row. On the third day, I pulled out one that was broken but knowing that he had endured two flawed ones already, I handed it to his Baby Sister and gave him the whole one. Baby Sister stared at the broken pop in her hand and started the high pitched whine.

“I don’t want it! It’s broken!”

It’ll still taste the same.

“But it’s broken!” wailing in a higher pitch.

Your Brother has had two broken ones, he gets a whole one this time. You can still eat it.

Squirms in her seat and starts to cry. I am contemplating what action to take when I look at The Boy.

“She can have mine.”

Baby Sis calms down and makes the trade. After prodding she says “thank you”.

He smiles.

One definitely needs more work but the other shines a glimmer of hope into his Mother’s heart.

Directly across the lane from us is a five acre plot that no one lives on. The people that own it make improvements off and on and we carefully watch the goings on- you know, to keep an eye on the place for them (cough). Some people were over there working late last week so, being the thoughtful neighbors that we are, the kids and I walked over to check things out. There were large holes in the ground for the poles that would support their new garage/shop (at least, that’s what the building permit called it- just trying to be accurate here. You want us for neighbors, don’t you? We let our weeds go and we snoop.) We checked out what was in the holes and found a bunch of garbage.

There are cigarette butts, ear plugs and gloves down there. Eww.

Then the Girls said “There’s a bird in this one!”

Really?

Sure ‘nuf.

I have no idea how it got down in there but it couldn’t get out because the hole wasn’t big enough.

Here’s a closer look- it’s a Killdeer.

So being a innovative person, I stuck a stick down in there hoping that the bird would be able to use it to climb out. Maybe that should be “not to smart” person because it was a wild bird, not a trained parrot and so it did not use the stick in such a resourceful way. The bird and stick were still there when we checked on them after we got the mail.

I talked about the situation with my much more resourceful and innovative husband and he thought that using a rake to try and lift the bird out might work.

Unfortunately, I am not a good judge of size.

The rake would fit but didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver. I knocked some dirt down on the poor bird a few times. I could get the bird on the rake…

but it would hop right off. So we gave up and decided we’d have to wait for the true hero to arrive home from work. (photo credit: The Boy)

I had plans in town so I took off right after The Col. got home but the kids dragged him down to check out the bird. The bird continued to be unhelpful and wouldn’t stay on the smaller rake that The Col. used. The next idea was to lower a child head first, because there was no room to bend down if they went in feet first, into the hole, grab the bird and be pulled out by their strong father. They all chickened out. Pixie was held upside down but wouldn’t let go of his legs. So the bird was left there again.

All the long, cold night.

I prayed that it would somehow find it’s way out of the hole when I got home and found out it was still down there. I was half afraid that in the morning instead of finding a bird we’d find a coyote in the hole. Him, I was not going to rescue.

The Col. got up, and while it was still cold, he and The Boy trudged on out there again. I sent the camera with The Boy to capture photos of the great rescue. He took things like this-

and totally missed the Event. There was no coyote in the hole just the poor cold, hungry bird who finally gave up and stopped hopping off the rake and allowed himself to be brought up.

Rescue complete.

We went to a wedding today. It was lovely to see two young people, in love, making a commitment to each other before God. It was a joy to see their families and friends support them as they start their journey together. I thought I’d share some of the 322 pictures I took.

Two guests arriving at the Church.

In the receiving line the Bride complimented me on my dress. I told her that was what *I* was supposed to say! She did have a lovely dress.

I asked before the wedding if I could bring my camera and they said “yes!” I warned them that I took pictures of odd things.

The bouquet.

The Bride.

We are friends of the Bride’s family. In fact, the Father of the Bride has made an appearance here before. The receiving line was long- I think the Mother of the Bride had the right idea.

The Bride again, getting pelted with wheat.

The Groom helped his lovely Bride into the car- which, surprisingly, wasn’t too decorated up- and got in himself. Then the horn started honking. I thought that was rather odd. Until I realized that every time he pushed on the brakes the horn would honk. We laughed as they drove down the street and honked to a stop at the intersection. We had a grand time listening to them drive off into the sunset.

Now, do you think I should go into the wedding photography business, or keep my day job?

On the third Sunday of the month you can find us at a local Assisted Living facility, (Sunshine mangles the name and calls it Jupiter House) singing hymns and praise songs with the people that live there. Of course, I use the words “us” and “singing” loosely- it’s really code for Col. Panic playing his guitar and singing, me trying to stay somewhere in the right tune and the kids reading or coloring in the corner. The Folks there seem to enjoy it and we enjoy getting to know them and feel blessed afterward.

I was observing some of them last time. Some of them are sharp and funny- others, well- they don’t have the minds of their youth anymore.

One lady was always dressed classy, hair impeccable, nails long and painted. She was better at putting outfits together than I will ever be. But…. she would ask you the same question over and over again. I was amazed at the deep ingrained part of her that knew how to be groomed so well. I could tell that it was something that was important to her all her life.

A few months ago when we entered the people there were telling us to get the door closed quickly as one lady was trying to get out. I watched this lady while we were there, marching determinedly up and down the halls, agitated, unhappy. She had a Faithful Companion, another older lady, who followed a few steps behind, watching. I wondered at their relationship and why Faithful Companion felt the need to stay with Agitated. I wonder if I would be that faithful of a friend? I saw Agitated this time too, not quite as upset but still wandering the halls, trying the doors to see if any were unlocked and possibly a way out. She carried her purse with her this time- as if to be ready when she found the door out. Faithful was there too, a few steps behind, carrying her purse also. Faithful cast a few glances at us as we sang- I wondered if she wanted to join us- but she turned and continued on her journey.

A lady that sometimes joins us was there. She stood right in front of The Col. as he sang. He tried to get her to sit but she resisted until part way through she decided that wasn’t a bad idea. It’s interesting talking with her as you never know which direction the talk will head.

“Are we going to dance now?” she asked when we were picking up. She indicated we should move the table to have room.

No, not today.

“I hope they aren’t hungry when they get here. They didn’t eat last time before they came. That was bad.”

Yes, I hope they eat too.

She enjoys the music and is always clapping in time to the music or tapping her feet. I watched her lips when we sang those old favorite hymns and she was getting the words right. Deep ingrained in her mind are the words to those songs. Maybe she sang them as a child at church and at home.

I wonder what will come out when, in reality, I am no longer here in this shell. I hope I am one that stays sharp, don’t we all? I know I will not be Ms. Impeccable- that’s a given. I’ll be more like my Grandfather and refuse to bathe or change my clothes. I hope I am not Agitated and that I will be more like Faithful Companion. Most of all, I hope that the love of my Saviour will shine through the fog and bless others.