Off to visit

Yesterday, my brother, sister and I went to Hesston to visit some relatives on our mother’s side of the family. We went because Sis had ordered some pens that our uncle makes out of various kinds of wood. While there, other family members came to their house and we had a very pleasant visit for a good share of the afternoon. I have a few observations about the day and the visit that I’d like to put “on paper”, so to speak.
The weather this time of year is just delightful. It’s pleasantly cool, yet sunny and warmish if one is inclined to spend time in a sunbeam. The smells of fall are unique and so are the sights. It is all too quickly over come November.
While beautiful, fall is also the reminder that winter isn’t far away. Everything readies for the coming onslaught of cold, wind, and sometimes nasty precipitation. Some things don’t survive the winter…some by design and some because of weakness, old age, or other malady. And that applies to people as well as plants and critters.
While visiting with the relations, I was reminded that all of us in that room have far fewer autumns ahead of us than we’ve already experienced. And while none of us knows just how many seasonal changes we have ahead of us, we do know that our time here is limited. It makes me think yet again about whether or not I’m prepared for that time.
Our past helps make us who we are today. Blood heritage is important, but so too is the heritage that comes from both knowing and hearing about those who came before us…those who had no comprehension of an Internet or a cell phone…those who loved and mentored us and served as examples of what an individual human being could and should be at his or her core. These are the people; they and their stories are the “stuff” of which we are made today. They helped mold and shape us, and we owe them a debt we’ll never repay.
The place where my uncle and aunt live seems to be a wonderful place to spend one’s remaining months and years. My brother, sister and I have talked about whether that would be a good place for us when the time comes. I would think I could do that. Whether or not they could live that close to me (or I to them) may be another matter.
Days like yesterday have immense value, even though it seems like we sometimes don’t accomplish much of any importance. Value doesn’t always equate with importance, and sometimes what seems to be relatively unimportant ends up, in the final analysis, to be of great significance and meaning. I am blessed to have made the trip.

The Rings

Did you know that although the rings of Saturn extend outward over 85,000 miles from the planet in various configurations, the average thickness of the rings is only about 30 feet? I don’t know about you, but that is a rather amazing bit of information regarding a part of our solar system.
We cannot see the rings with unaided eyes, but can easily discern them with a small telescope or good binoculars. The larger telescopes give an even better view. Right now the rings are at equinox, or are edge-on toward the earth and are virtually invisible to us. If I remember correctly, that happens about every 15 years or so.
The rings are composed, I read, of primarily water ice with a smattering of mineral matter scattered among the ice chunks. They are a very complex system with moons orbiting within them, disturbing them with their gravitational fields. They change appearance and also in distance from the planet. And I read that some of the moons and their gravitational influences seem to help hold the rings together. I suspect that if we could somehow hover over them and watch them in some kind of accelerated time mode, we would be mesmerized by the intricate dance maneuvers they perform as they orbit the planet along with their moons.
One question I’ve had for a long time is why the rings? I know that as one who believes that our continuum was created by God, I could just say that was the way He wanted to do it. And that would be sufficient for me. However, I enjoy thinking about why God might have chosen to do what He did. Did he do it for the sheer joy of doing it? Did He do it primarily so we could some day see it and wonder? Did He do it because those rings somehow have something to do with our existence? Or was there another reason?
And the time frame astounds me. I am a creationist who believes in an old earth and an old universe. I believe the universe is what it appears to be…massively old (this is not the place to debate that statement). I know there aren’t many of us old earth creationists. It seems that the two main camps are either young earth creationists or old earth evolutionists. I don’t think either are correct. One of these times, I may explain why I think that.
The rings were there long before mankind. And they may well be there long after mankind no longer exists. Were they created for us? Dare we be so bold as to suggest we are that important in the great scheme of things? I leave those questions for you.
I also know that these questions don’t really have answers we can articulate, at least in this life. But one has to admit that as unusual (and even strange) as many of the features of space are, these things tend to pique the interest of more than just a few of us.
Tens of thousands of miles wide, but only thirty feet thick. Interesting, to say the least.

Thinking About Music

I was on my way over to small group meeting this evening in the pickup. The wife was at work and had the car. I popped in a cassette tape (it’s a 1998 pickup…it has a cassette in it) of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing various songs, religious, secular, and patriotic. I haven’t heard that tape for awhile and really enjoyed it. And it got me to wondering just what kinds of music I like and why.
I like things like the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. I like the more modern religious songs that we sing at church. I also like many of the classical compositions, both familiar and unfamiliar. And I like a rather eclectic assortment of music from classic rock to southern gospel, and even some jazz and country.
I think mostly I like music when the performers are good at their craft. I mean truly good. There’s a difference, I think, in being popular and being good at what one does. Some of the best performances have come from people who are virtual unknowns (remember Susan Boyle?).
The Beatles are a classic example of popularity overriding, sometimes, the performance. Because it was the Beatles, the song was an automatic hit, regardless of the quality of the performance. Additionally, the Beatles couldn’t sing. They could write and play music with the best, but their singing talents were sadly lacking, in my opinion.
I hope I always will be able to hear well enough that I can enjoy good music. And I hope that should the time come when I can’t do for myself, those caring for me will play music such as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, or the Statler Brothers, or Karen Carpenter, Sandi Patty, Bette Midler, the Gaither Vocal Band, Louis Armstrong, Lawrence Welk (yes, even him), the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra, the New York Philharmonic, the bands of the Armed Services, and others who truly display the best.

Musings From the Back Porch

I'm sitting on the porch swing in the back yard while our small pond is refilling. I drained it, or at least most of it in order to put in clean water from our well before winter sets in. I do that a couple times a year.
I also had a couple of ulterior motives. I knew there was a water snake in the pond and thought that if I disturbed it enough, the snake would appear and I could catch it and dispose of it. I also am wondering if any of the algae eaters I put in there this spring have survived.
As for the snake, if you saw my Facebook, you know I got the snake. He was sunning himself on the lily pad and I got the rake and tried to hook him and get him out of the pond. That didn't work and he went down to the depths. In a few minutes, though, he got out on a rock that had been exposed by the declining water table in the pond and started sunning himself. I took that opportunity to put the rake on him to hold him, then grabbed his tail and flung him into the yard. He wasn't long for this world as I stepped on him and did him in with a shovel.
As for the algae eaters, I still haven't seen them, although I don't drain about 18 inches of water from the bottom of the pond, as I don't remove the fish. I will rely on the relatively clear water that replaces the old to see if they might be around somewhere.
The weather is great this afternoon, and after a night when I was called three times by work about something or other, and when the wife was called at least a couple of times by work (she's on nursing call this weekend), and after having to go into work twice this morning, I'm enjoying what's left of the day.
The hummingbirds have left, but there are some butterflies here that are fluttering around, along with some dragonflies. The neighborhood is quiet, and there are a few walkers on the trail in the park behind our house. The breeze is pleasant, although I suspect it will cool off some tonight.
I'm amazed at the diversity of life in our back yard in the city, even though I know it borders on a wooded area. I'm hearing what I think is an owl of some kind off in the distance, and even with a bright red helicopter flying overhead, I can appreciate other critters (yes, even snakes) that are close by.
The one thing I'd really like to hear is a great horned owl. I haven't heard one yet here, but would think they are around. I remember years ago as I lay in bed at home hearing the horned owl in the hackberry tree just outside my bedroom, or more distantly as he sat on top of a grain bin at the grain elevator just across the way. There was something at once soothing and haunting about hearing him, even on some of the coldest nights.
It's funny how sounds, whether recalled from memory or heard again, bring back all sorts of memories. I recall when I was a child at home that one of the windows in my bedroom would rattle a certain way when the train was switching cars at night on the other end of our small town. There was something about the deep-throated vibrations of the engine that was in tune with a spring on the inside of one of the windows that made the spring vibrate against the side of the window.
Years later, when we bought the house from my folks estate and lived there ourselves, that same window did the same thing on certain nights when sounds carried a distance and everything was just right. Sometimes I couldn't hear the train engine, but knew one was working because of the vibration of the window. Several times, I would go outside to listen and sure enough heard the engine.
The owl was also there, up in the hackberry tree looking over his territory and hooting. The grain elevator had long since been torn down, replaced by a hardware/lumber store.
We no longer own the house. The hackberry tree is gone and others now live where we grew up. I wonder if the window vibrates for them just as it did for us all those years. And I wonder if it does, if they have a clue that it's been doing that for at least 50 years. Actually, it may not vibrate at the noise of a train locomotive anymore because the railroad has pulled up the switching yard. They now just go through town at 70 miles an hour on a double track that stretches from Chicago to Los Angeles. Many, many things now are memories only. So be it.

Can I Say I'm Impressed?

I don’t often think highly of people (or businesses) who make it their business to sell me something. I’ve thought for many years now that if I want something, I’ll go somewhere and buy it. Telling me I need this or that, whether through an ad or by the way a store is arranged just doesn’t do much for me.
So it has been with the new Dillon’s Marketplace stores that have been popping up here in the Wichita area. For those who may not know, Dillon’s is a subset of the Kroger company. They have food markets all over, and recently have begun to sell other things in their Marketplace stores. They now sell furniture and a wide variety of home needs.
I’m working in Derby for several days helping the new nursing facility there pass the inspections. Yesterday, I needed a three ring binder and some file folders. I was going to go to the Wal Mart down the street, but stopped at the Dillon’s Marketplace instead.
I must say I was impressed. Not only did I find my binder and folders, I also found a 25 foot tape measure, a digital thermometer, a three ring hole punch, and a couple of other items that I needed, but expected to have to go somewhere else to purchase. The store is bright and cheery, I could find people to help me find things (one walked with me all the way to the opposite side of the store to help me find a thermometer), and I didn’t see anyone in a sagging, torn, dirty tank top and shorts.
Now, I don’t always appreciate Dillon’s. The Dillon’s we normally shop at doesn’t have the smaller jars of instant coffee, and I also can’t find a few other things that I wish they’d have. The store is sometimes too big for what little I want to buy, and I have to park a half mile away when I get there. But this marketplace was just the right thing at just the right time in the right place for what I needed at the time.

More Outdoor Observations

Speaking of spiders, this is the sixth straight night that another Charlotte has built (or rather rebuilt) her web in front by the garage door just under the outdoor light. Since I keep those lights on all night, she’s found a great place as the light attracts all kinds of flying bugs. Sometimes she re-spins just the circular part of the web. Once or twice, she’s torn down the whole thing and started over. She’s been moving ever closer to the light and the wall of the house in the last few days. I don’t know if that means anything or not.
Another light has attracted one or more preying mantises (walking sticks). They too are feasting on those insects that are unfortunate enough to get too close. These small animals are indeed marvelous creatures of God.
All too soon, this time of year will be over and it will be too cold for these marvels of nature. They’ll die, but will leave their legacy in the form of eggs deposited somewhere…on a leaf, in the ground, on the side of the light, or somewhere else. Those eggs will endure the winter, and then hatch when it warms up next spring. The cycle will then repeat itself as it has for countless eons past.
One might think it difficult to find much nature in a city. And to an extent, that is correct. This environment is more “sterile” than, say, the Flint Hills or the badlands of Western Kansas. But if one looks just a little, there is plenty happening right outside the door that continues to make the Creator apparent to all who will see.

Continued Amazement

I went out in the back yard last night after it got mostly dark. I just wanted to take a brief look around for no particular reason. Going over to our small goldfish pond, I noticed something reflecting some light just above the water. An orb spider had made a web just above the water of the pond and was in the middle of it waiting for an insect to catch itself on the sticky webbing.
Now, this may not seem like so much of a big deal, and you know that I am fond of orb spiders this time of the year. I’ve even been known to not drive into the garage for several days because a spider had made her web of “doom” across the opening and I didn’t want to disturb her (the feminine is used in deference to “Charlotte’s Web”) in her business.
This web, however, was horizontal…parallel to the water in the pond, and just a few inches above it. It also stretched across the entire width of the pond, which at that point was six feet or more. I’ve never seen such a thing. Most spiders build their webs vertically and perpendicular to the ground. Not this one.
That brings me back to the wonderment of just how this spider accomplished this task. One of the supporting brace webs was even anchored on a water plant in the middle of the water.
The completed web didn’t sag, even with the weight of the spider and some insects that had already met their fate. The spider seemed unconcerned that a thousand gallons or more of water were just below her and continued her business.
I’ve watched these spiders as they put at least parts of their webs together. I evermore continue to be fascinated and humbled by this handiwork of God’s creation. Soli Deo Gloria

Some Observations

Some Saturday observations after spending most of the day either traveling to and from Lawrence or attending the KU/Duke game.

Fifty thousand (give or take a few) people is a lot of people to all be crammed into the KU football stadium. It was obvious where the student section was; they were crammed in more than the other folks.
Some bathrooms still have the troughs in which to relieve oneself.
You can get decent food at a KU football game. You can’t get a decent place to park, however, that’s within a mile of the stadium unless you pay big-time for the privilege..
Home out on the back patio is s a world away from a major college football game.
How do football players possibly remember all the plays?
Why do car light bulbs burn out at what seems to be the most inopportune time? Is there an “opportune” time?
I know someone at work will call me wanting me to come in and do something when I’m hundreds of miles away (and I’m not on call).
The grass in the Flint Hills remained lush all summer. Cattle look better there than they have in awhile, I think.
Some kids still have fun outdoors doing the most simple things…swing, tree-climbing, etc.
I wonder if any other toll road has a “Cattle Pens” exit that literally goes to cattle pens out on the open range.
Why would anyone wear hot pink heels (3 inch or more) to a football game?
People leaving the bathroom still don’t wash their hands.
Lawrence, Kansas on game day is a zoo.
Most people will engage in at least brief pleasant interaction if you just try a little.
How did we ever get along before cell phones?
Why doesn’t TV show more of the field during televised football games? I think it’s fun to watch the defensive backfield move and develop as the play develops.
I missed my Raisin Bran this morning (had a bowl this evening).
Being with a beloved spouse all day, whether or not a lot of verbal communication is going on, is one of the most comforting and relaxing things on earth.
I wonder how many people at the game were, deep inside, terrified of their own mortality and what might happen to them when they died?

She's Gone

“A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys…” And not so the human beings that bring dragons to life in music. Mary Travers of Peter, Paul, and Mary has lost her battle with illness and has passed from this life.’
For those of us who grew up in the sixties and listened to the LP records and the eight-track cassettes of Peter, Paul, and Mary, this is the passing of an age and a realization that we indeed are becoming more fragile and ever closer to that time when we too will pass from this life. We have also lost someone who, even though we personally knew her not, has by her death left an empty space in our hearts and minds that won’t be filled.
Ms. Travers was larger than life. Peter, Paul, and Mary were the voice of many of us who had something to say, but didn’t quite know what words to use or how best to tell the message. Many of us weren’t even sure what it was we wanted to say. We just knew that things weren’t how they should be, and hoped that someone somewhere would know what to do. Peter, Paul, and Mary knew what to do and what to say and how to say it in such a way that people not only listened, but acted upon what they heard.
And although Ms. Travers' voice wasn't like that of Karen Carpenter or Sandi Patty, she had absolute control over it and could lend her trademark sound to one of many genres of music and have it sound as it was supposed to sound.
I am one of literally millions of people in my age group who are actively mourning Mary’s passing and the silencing of a two and a half octave (or more) voice that spoke for us all.

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, and how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin in the wind,
The answer is blowin in the wind.

Blowin in the Wind
Written by Bob Dylan

I Can't Stand It (Again)

Speaking of CNN and reporting of news, did you hear about the misinformation that was spread about the Coast Guard firing on a boat while President Obama was at a 9-11 remembrance? Come to find out the Coast Guard was performing a routine training, and CNN mistook the words “bang, bang, bang” and other statements on their scanners that were tuned to Coast Guard radio frequencies for an attack on a boat.
When it was all over, the “news” organizations were stumbling all over themselves justifying their utter lack of journalistic work (they didn’t check out anything…they instead wanted to be the first to go on the air with the misinformation). They made up information as they went and even had the nerve to disclaim responsibility.
The ignoramuses that went with the story haven’t a clue what journalism and true news-gathering and reporting really is, let alone how to deal with the broadcasting of misinformation. Can you imagine Walter Cronkite or Chet Huntley going on the air with this story without having checked it out thoroughly before it aired? (If you don’t know who these two true journalists were, check it out).
So now the Coast Guard is conducting an “investigation” to find out whatever they are trying to find out about the situation. CNN, Fox and others continue to say it’s not their fault, pointing their collective fingers at the Coast Guard for daring to conduct a drill at the same time the President is at some event not far away.
I can’t stand it.

9-11 Revisited

I watched a two-hour special on the 9-11 disaster last night. By the way, this was the only thing I could find on all of cable TV having to do with 9-11 last night. The special was on the History Channel and was a montage of video taken on that day by both professionals and amateurs. There was no commentary…no talking heads.
I was surprised to find rather strong emotions within me as the special presentation went along. Heavens, it’s been eight years, and I didn’t have anyone I personally knew who was injured or killed in the tragedy. Yet I found myself with feelings of sadness, anger, melancholy, and grief.
What I noticed most of all, however, was the directions people were walking/running during the first minutes of the calamity. Civilians were walking or running away from the buildings; police, fire, and emergency medical responders were walking or running toward the buildings. Knowing what I now know, I know that many of those I saw in the videos going toward the buildings died when the buildings collapsed.
One man who shot some of the video says that he doesn’t watch it, mostly for the reason that he knows that many of those he caught on video are no longer living, having perished in the collapse of the buildings.
One other thing that stood out was the abject disbelief, blank looks, and far-away stares from people who were watching what happened, knowing that it was an intentional act and that people were already dead and dying. It was as if they were trying to wrap their minds around what they were seeing, not believing the reality of what is. My guess is that there weren’t many atheists in those crowds of people on that day.
Yes, many were angry with God. Many were confused. Many just hadn’t a clue what to think or believe any more. I’m sure emotions ran the gamut, as did the petitions and exclamations to the Almighty.
I believe we as a nation did not handle the response correctly. We were told to go ahead and go to work, shop and keep the economy going while the politicians handled the crisis. That was the perfect time to mobilize this nation in a way that hadn’t been done since World War II and we blew it badly. Instead, we spent our way into a recession that has resulted in people out of work, people going hungry, and people in predicaments that they have never before even thought they would be in. Our government is broke and getting broker (is that a word?). We have a much deeper hole to climb out of than we had even immediately after 9-11. I am not as optimistic as I probably should be that we will overcome this time around. I’m glad I won’t be here that much longer to see what I think will, in coming decades, be the carnage of the bad decisions made years before by both Democrat and Republican politicians who no more have a clue what it means to be leader, statesman, and unifier than the man in the moon.
I am sure, however, that CNN and Fox will be right there, whether or not they really know what happened, and tell us all what they think they heard from someone.
I can’t stand it.

I Repent

Well, I said I wouldn’t do it, but all along I knew I would. I went off and got a Facebook page yesterday. Sigh. I feel like (you ever have dreams like this?) I’m dancing naked in front of 200,000 strangers and don’t have any place to go to hide. Yes, I know, I’ll get used to it. That’s what they all say, and that’s part of the scary part of it. I don’t really WANT to get used to having everything I think and do hanging out there for all to see. I’m old enough to recall when there was no such thing as touch tone phones (you had to twirl a dial thingy around to get the right number). Big Brother didn’t know your every move, purchase, and thought. And people didn’t sell information collected by loyalty cards to others so they could convince you to buy something.
By the way, if someone has to convince you to buy something, do you really need what they’re selling?
I was amazed at the number of potential “friends” that Facebook suggested just by mining my Yahoo email address. I should have known, though, that would happen. I’m thinking about closing my account and opening another one with a different, disposable address so there would be no history. Then I could just find the “friends” that I truly wanted instead of having the stupid software suggest to me that this person or that would really like to be my friend. Sheesh.
And what is this farming business? Do people have nothing better to do than to run a virtual farm? And what is that lost sheep stuff? Why would I care whether the virtual lost sheep was ever found, or whatever it is?
I know, I know. I’m just an old curmudgeon who is still getting the hang of solitaire and how to add someone to my cell phone book. I can’t really be expected to be up and with it (that’s an old expression) at my age.
On the other hand, I do know how to use the formula function in Excel. And I know what the vast majority of the ready-made formulas mean and how they are used. I truly enjoy creating a spreadsheet that is hundreds of cells long and wide with hundreds of interlaced and dependent formulas which provide answers to previously intractable problems in a matter of microseconds.
And databases that I created in the distant past (mid-1990’s) on what is now really clunky DOS-based software provided the same medical and patient-related administrative and billing information that commercial software now provides.
So maybe I’m not quite so curmudgeonly after all. Maybe my priorities are just a little skewed. And that’s OK because it takes all kinds to make the world go ‘round…even virtual farmers!

The Passing of an Era

Erich Kunzel, conductor of the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra, died a few days ago (September 1). I don’t know if you know of Mr. Kunzel or the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra or not. But if you’ve never heard the music made by this man and marvelous group of musicians, you’ve missed something special in this creation of ours.

For over 30 years, Mr. Kunzel has directed the orchestra, taking pops programs and music to new heights. Begun, I think, by Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops Orchestra, the continuation of the mainstreaming, so to speak, of classical pops, and the growth in popularity of that kind of music is a direct result of the efforts of men and women such as Mr. Kunzel.

In case you aren’t familiar with his work, or even if you are, take a listen to the orchestra’s rendition of the theme of The Magnificent Seven. You can find it at this address http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45KAjt7v4t4

Classical pops music is one of my favorite genres of music. And the Cincinnati Pops does it as well as anyone, anywhere. Thank you, Mr. Kunzel, for putting your vision, effort, and imagination to good work.

The Pale Blue Dot

I was looking at the Astronomy Picture of the Day archives. Somehow, in doing that I ended up on Wikipedia at the article on the rings of Saturn. In that article, someone filed a wondrous photo, taken by the Cassini space craft in 2006. The photo shows Saturn eclipsing the sun, with the rings in high relief. Out toward the edge of the rings is a “pale blue dot” which they tell us is Earth.

I’ve put the photo on the blog. I’ve labeled the Earth for your convenience. I’d like for you to look at the photo for a moment and think about this place we call home. Astronomer Carl Sagan coined the phrase “pale blue dot” based on a photo taken by Voyager I from about 3.7 billion miles away. You can see the photo and accompanying article at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pale_blue_dot

Mr. Sagan believed that this photo only confirmed what he knew…that there is no God and that we are truly alone in the universe; that if we are to survive, we will have to save ourselves.
Others may well look at this and other photos and believe quite the opposite…that there is a God and that we are never truly alone in the universe; that we cannot save ourselves and must rely on the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for life and salvation.
I don’t know enough to know how to convince a skeptic or a non-believer to change how they view photos such as this. I’m not even sure I know enough to intelligently talk with someone who doesn’t believe in God to convince them that God does exist. What I do know is that some how, some way, there has to be an explanation for what we see and know (and all that we can’t see and don’t know) that has as its explanation something other than chance.
We’ll never really know, in the full sense of the word, which way it really is. That’s why faith is sometimes so hard. And we have it easy compared with those who have come before us who had only traditions, oral stories, and the wonder of the universe to point them to faith in God. We are indeed blessed.

Of the Father's Love Begotten

As we were driving home from Wednesday Bible classes this evening, for whatever reason I thought of a Christmas carol that I hadn’t heard in some time, but really liked. We also sang this carol when I was part of a community Christmas choir some years ago. This song has several incarnations, but is commonly believed to have been penned first by a Roman poet in the fifth century.
This has to be one of the relatively few hymns that are so good that they seem to be inspired. So much packed into so few words, and so much truth put into so few verses of song. And the beauty of the words (and later on the music) is just phenomenal.
I don’t often do this, but today would ask you to read the words of the song as it appears below (taken from the Lutheran Hymnal). If you’d like to see a choir sing the song, you can go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDGjxAqENbI and see a 1980’s performance, which is one of the better ones on YouTube.

"Of the Father's Love Begotten"
by Aurelius C. Prudentius, 413, cento
Translated by John. M. Neale, 1818-1866
and Henry W. Baker, 1821-1977

1. Of the Father's love begotten
Ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega,
He the Source, the Ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see
Evermore and evermore.

2. Oh, that birth forever blessed
When the Virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving,
Bare the Savior of our race,
And the Babe, the world's Redeemer,
First revealed His sacred face
Evermore and evermore.

3. O ye heights of heaven, adore Him;
Angel hosts, His praises sing;
Powers, dominions, bow before Him
And extol our God and King.
Let no tongue on earth be silent,
Every voice in concert ring
Evermore and evermore.

4. This is He whom Heaven-taught singers
Sang of old with one accord;
Whom the Scriptures of the prophets
Promised in their faithful word.
Now He shines, the Long-expected;
Let creation praise its Lord
Evermore and evermore.

5. Christ, to Thee, with God the Father,
And, O Holy Ghost, to Thee
Hymn and chant and high thanksgiving
And unending praises be,
Honor, glory, and dominion,
And eternal victory
Evermore and evermore.

Still Thinking

Our church hosted an ice cream social for the homeless in our back parking lot this evening. We are located next to the Arkansas River in downtown Wichita, so this was a good place for people to gather. We had a good crowd and constant flow of people in and out.
We went to help out. I’ve not had a chance to do this kind of thing very often, and appreciated the opportunity to be part of this outing. While there, I struck up conversations with a couple of folks who came. One older man was talking cattle, which I know something of, so I started conversing with him. Now, I don’t know how much he embellishes what he says, but he says he is a descendent of one of the Miller boys who ran the old Miller Brothers 101 Ranch in northern Oklahoma. He had a clipping from a newspaper that he retrieved from his old car, and told me all about the fact that his family had been in ranching, oil, and entertaining people with a western show.I never knew anything about that, but according to this Wiki article (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miller_Brothers_101_Ranch), what he was saying, if he was indeed related, had more truth than not. How he ended up homeless and at our ice cream social was anyone’s guess.
I talked with another man who was raised around horses, whether on a ranch or some other way, I don’t know. His woman (whether wife or not I don’t know) had just had surgery on her appendix 8 days ago. The man said they had been carnival workers, but weren’t now. Neither of them had any teeth to speak of, and they weren’t any older than about 40. It was obvious that life had been hard on them, and it showed.
The man ended our conversation by telling us that he has been blessed in life. He did equivocate just a little about his present circumstance, but didn’t retract his blessed comment. He just seemed to be more puzzled at his lot in life right now than anything else.
As these people melted back into the downtown area…some along the river, others in cars, and still others out to the streets, I had to wonder several things. Where were they going? What waited for them tonight? How is our present health care system working for them (including dental care)? Why did they end up where they are now? What else we can do that would be meaningful and pertinent for these folks? Why do I often feel like I’m not especially blessed and I have much, much more than the man did who said he has been blessed? How many church groups would invite this kind of people to their place of worship and rub shoulders with them, eat with them, and visit with them?
I’m still thinking. I may be thinking for a long time to come.

Take a Cue

Well, it’s Saturday morning. About the only things I have planned today are to cut the grass, get a haircut, and work out at the Y. This evening, we will go to our nephew’s new home over by Cheney Lake and enjoy a time with the wife’s family.
Some of my readers weren’t happy with the politics of Ted Kennedy. Others may well embrace at least some of what he championed. Some of my readers may even be happy he’s no longer in the Senate, although I can’t imagine any who would wish him death by brain cancer.
Regardless of Mr. Kennedy’s politics, regardless of his personal failures, and regardless of the tragedies that struck his family, this nation has suffered loss. I don’t think it’s loss as great as some on the television would have us believe, and we will indeed go on without him. No one is indispensible.
Mr. Kennedy was one of the last of the old line politicians who talked a hard line, was eloquent in speech, and yet reached out for consensus when necessary from those he politically opposed. He could revile the political positions of his opponents with words that dug deep into the issue, yet a few minutes later would be cracking jokes and schmoozing with the same politicos he earlier was skewering. By the way, Robert Dole was also one of this club. It cuts across party lines.
We could learn from that kind of behavior. We tend to let things become very personal very quickly when someone disagrees with us. We tend to see the bad in them and want to conjure up all sorts of personal vendettas. How dare they oppose us!
What we fail to see is that it isn’t (or shouldn’t be) personal at all. Not agreeing with someone’s position on an issue, whether political, religious, or personal, does not (or should not) equate with not liking someone. To be able to have a civil discussion of whatever the issue is while maintaining a positive personal relationship is all the harder in this age of Limbaugh-esque antics and behavior. We would do well to turn off Fox News (or MSNBC) and take our civility cues from our parents and grandparents who, I hope, taught us much, much better than anything we see on the tube.

What am I Going to Do?

A month or so ago, I heard about an explosion and fire in downtown Anthony, Kansas. It happened in an alley and caught the adjoining buildings on fire. Being old, those business buildings went up in flames rather quickly, and required the help of several neighboring fire departments to control the flames. I had hoped that only one or two businesses were affected because Anthony is near where I grew up and has at least a semblance of a downtown business district yet.
A few days ago, I was visiting with someone at the place where I work. He was telling me that virtually the whole block went up. Only the businesses on either end of the block were saved. My heart sank because one of my favorite clothing stores went up in flames since it was in that block. I checked articles on line and received confirmation that Mueller Brothers clothing store did indeed cease to exist because of the fire.
Those businesses that were lost will not be rebuilt. There’s not enough money, even with insurance, to do that. The businesses, including Mueller Brothers, did not have enough value as a business to warrant a moving or rebuilding in any event. In a small community, when something like this happens, the economy of the time is that these places just disappear.
I recall visiting Mueller Brothers as a boy. There was a certain smell that men’s clothing stores had, and Mueller Brothers had that smell. I recall being fitted for a suit by one or more really old men (at least they looked old to me). We didn’t have a lot of money, and I didn’t get to have a new suit of clothes very often. More often than not, I got hand-me-downs from my older brothers.
Later, when we moved back to that area after I was married and had a family, I started going back there, purchasing suits, shoes, socks, shirts, and whatever else I needed. The service was good, the quality was great, and I truly enjoyed the experience.
I’m still wearing dress socks I bought there in 1994. They look as good today (no kidding) as they did then. I think I could wear them until I croak. I have several shirts, socks, three or four pair of shoes, and other haberdashery that I’ve bought there.
Just a couple of months ago, my sister and I made a day trip on a Saturday down to Anthony. One of our stops was at Mueller Brothers where I bought two pair of shoes and some shirts. That same men’s store smell from 50 years ago was there…ever present. The only thing missing was the old men. Now, there was a man, his wife, and grown daughter minding the store.
And now there is no one. I’m not certain where I’m going to buy my shoes. It’s kind of like where I’m going to buy my next vehicle. I just don’t like the mega-dealers in Sedgwick County, but back home I don’t know those dealers any more, or even if anyone sells cars down there. Maybe I’ll just get my shoes re-soled and re-heeled for the next 30 years or so. They are of good enough quality that I think I might just be able to do that.

Making Music

As I relax this evening from a hard day’s work (Mondays always seem to be a little tougher than the rest of the week, for some reason), I put in an video of Bill Gaither and his Homecoming Friends. Now, I know some of you may not appreciate my choice in music, and that’s OK. I’ve several of those tapes and DVDs, and have grown to appreciate them more and more.
The videos I have are all several years old, and many of those featured in the videos are no longer living. That makes them even more special, as the talent and ability of these folks has been preserved for those like us who appreciate so much what they do to the glory of God.
I don’t know the hearts of all of these folks. There are surely some who are in the business to just make a living. Others may be in the business for what glory comes to them. But I suspect that far and away the most of the people in Mr. Gaither’s videos are there because of their desire to glorify the God of Heaven. There are different talents, different abilities, and different kinds of music in these videos, all loosely under the Southern Gospel umbrella.
I have to wonder, if God gives us all different talents and abilities, and expects us to use them to His glory, why it is that some believe that certain of those expressions of love and devotion to God are somehow sinful because of the particular talent or ability that is used. I can’t imagine a God giving someone a certain ability and talent, then forbidding him or her from using it to the glory of God and the calling of men and women to faith. God expects us to use what we’re given. Scripture is quite clear on that matter.
Regardless of how you might view that last paragraph, seeing and hearing J D Sumner and the Stamps quartet sing “Let Us Break Bread Together” is truly priceless, and all the more so since Mr. Sumner is no longer with us (even though the Stamps Quartet goes on). There are many such priceless performances by such as Hovie Lister, the Cathedrals, the Martins, the Happy Goodmans and many others. I appreciate the efforts of Mr. Gaither to preserve these performances.

Weekend Musings

Most weekends find me doing some soul-searching and introspection at some point during the weekend. I don’t know why, necessarily, and I don’t know what to make of it. But I find myself more and more asking questions such as “Why am I here?” I try to make sense of the beauty of the creation out my back yard and think about the amazing blessings of living here in this place at this time. I wonder what lies ahead for my wife and myself, and wonder if we really will have financial resources to retire and will God really care for us (even though it’s obvious that He has in the past and I have no reason to doubt His provision for the future).
I think about my work on the Missions committee of our church and where I need to steer the committee as its chair. I consider the interaction and fellowship we had with the church folks (or if it’s Saturday, I think with true joy about that fellowship the next day). I wonder about some of the things we did in the past and wonder how we ever made it this far. I think about our family, our boys as well as our extended family tree. In other words, over the course of a weekend, I may think “around the world” before coming to rest in the here and now on Sunday evening.
Just this evening as we were at the coffeehouse put on by our church youth, I saw some small children playing and thought of our own boys as they were that age. For just a moment, I was reliving some wondrous memories of them in their toddler years. And although those times will never come again, I think with fondness how they’ve grown and matured and have created family units of their own. The tears flow rather easily during times like this, as they are even now as I write this, thinking again about some of those times and seasons.
So, what do I make of this? Is this a sign of old age creeping up? Is it s sign that I secretly long for children again or that I wish I was 32 again? No, I don’t think so. I think it’s an acknowledgement that life is brief. It’s recognition of the incredible and astonishing blessings that have come our way in our lives here. It’s also a concession to the inexorable march of time and the promise of something much, much better than even this.
No, I don’t spend the entire weekend thus occupied. But for a few minutes each weekend, I feel like I need the grounding that this kind of mental exercise provides. I also need the strength to face the coming week and the grace to get through the days ahead. This seems to do it, and I’m grateful God has given me the intellect to not only do it, but appreciate it.

What Matters Most

Normally, I write something for the blog no later than Saturday afternoon. But this weekend, it just didn’t seem like the thing to do. I don’t know why, but one sometimes just gets the notion that what has been done many times in the past just shouldn’t be done this time in this way. However, I do want to maintain the connection with you, so am writing now, on Sunday afternoon.
I noticed a couple of things worthy of my blog (if you’re a regular, you know that isn’t a very lofty goal). The first was something I saw yesterday evening as I was making my way to our son’s place where Grandma was already there watching the grandkids. I stayed behind to catch up on some work and mow the yard.
While on the way, I saw a bicycle-built-for-two and, of course, it had two riders on it. However, the bike was constructed differently than I had ever seen a tandem built before. The first seat was of regular size for regular people. The second was clearly built for the smaller among us, our children. There was a dad, I presume, and his daughter riding on this thing and having a good time, it seemed.
What struck me was that someone had the foresight to think of such a thing and either build it or have it built. There probably aren’t that many of that kind of tandem bike in the world, but what a great idea.
The second is all the talk about the economy, health care, and other assorted ills of the world and of society. Much of that talk is negative, and much of it, I think, is fed by the 24 hour so-called news channels on cable TV. I say so-called, because what they do isn’t news; it’s commentary and opinion.
I’ve written about this before, but I’ll say it again. All I have to do to get away from the negative and the bad is go out on the back patio. There, I find that fish are still swimming in our pond, trees are still growing and waving in the breeze, birds still feed at the feeders, and frogs still croak in the quiet of the evening. In other words, the bad news isn’t all there is to life, and life, indeed the creation, will go on regardless of the value of the dollar, whether a democrat or a republican is in the presidency, and whether or not Rush Limbaugh says anything stupid (a half-hearted pardon to those who listen to him).
I’m reminded of what Dr. James Dobson says at the close of his “A Father Looks Back” tape. He says something to the effect of, “When all of my life is boiled down to its basic roots, what truly matters is whether I have loved the Lord God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and whether I have loved my neighbor as myself.”
If we can continue to have that first and centered in our consciences, all of the rest will seem rather superfluous and like the “sounding gong and clanging cymbal” of I Corinthians 13.

Hummers (of the natural variety)

A few weeks ago, I put a hummingbird feeder on the back patio behind the dining area of our home. A couple of hummers, one male and one female, are regular visitors to the feeder, especially later in the afternoon.
I have been fascinated by these birds since I was a child, but this is, if I recall correctly, the first time I’ve been able to attract hummers with a feeder on a regular basis. I don’t know if you’ve seen hummingbirds up close, but they are well worth the work it takes to keep the feeder clean and filled.
The ruby-throated hummingbird, the only variety of hummer that consistently appears east of the Rockies, is one of the smaller of the species. Adults weigh in at about 3 to 4 grams, or about 1/8 of an ounce. Some other remarkable statistics are that their body temperature is in the 105 to 108 degree range, their eggs are about the size of peas, and their heart rate can be as high as 1,200 beats per minute in flight.
Their nests are the size of walnuts and they can briefly fly as fast as 60 miles an hour. Their normal flight speed is about half that. Their wings beat from 40 to 80 times a second and their respirations are about 250 per minute.
They are the only bird, as you know, that can hover, fly backward, forward, up, down, and even upside down (credit National Geographic Magazine). Their wings are hinged at the shoulders in such a way that they can exquisitely control their flight so that their bodies remain virtually stationary while their wings and tail furiously maintain their position. During much of their acrobatics, the wings beat opposite one-another. That is, one wing will be down while the other is up.
Many of these diminutive birds will migrate in the fall from the Gulf coast to the northern coast of South America, making the 500 mile flight over a span of 15 to 18 hours, non-stop. They then come back in February and gradually make their way up into the rest of the country during the spring and summer months.
This is probably more information than you really wanted to know about the hummer. I encourage you to view a video of hummers in flight. See it in HD and watch it full screen on YouTube. The URL is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0HqfO9d9-U&annotation_id=annotation_275200&feature=iv

The Real Issue

Hear me out. The topic of this blog is NOT health care reform, but I need to lay some background.
I’ve been watching some of the town hall meetings going on lately regarding health care. Yes, I think we need to find a way to provide at least basic care other than an emergency room. No, I’m not obsessed with it. No, I don’t have any better ideas. Yes, I have reservations about what is happening now.
The only other thing I think I’ll say about the topic is that there is so much misinformation on both sides being stated, repeated, and believed to the point that it’s virtually impossible to know the truth of the matter. Some things I do know. We already ration care, government is already up to it’s ears in health care (and has been for many years), we already have “socialized” single-payer medicine (Medicare, Medicaid, V.A.), we have, hands down, the best pre-hospital (EMS) medicine in the world, we already have a dire shortage of qualified nurses, physicians, therapists, and other professionals in many areas of the nation, etc. Both sides are to blame, if one is laying blame, for the misinformation.
Might I suggest that one reason the public in general (including me) is leery of whatever is floating out there has more to do with trust and faith in government/politicians/congress/Washington than it has to do with the topic at hand. Government politicians have, over the years, played fast and loose with the faith and trust of the American people to the point that when now they say “Trust us on health care,” we naturally turn a nose to the wind to see what smells and how bad it is. I don’t care if it’s Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, the entire establishment, it seems, has lost the faith and trust of the American people to the extent that anything coming from them is immediately suspect.
And with good reason. They dance around on the meaning of the word “is”. They parry and dodge when it comes to lobbying, money, and influence-peddling. They earmark their way to re-election. And they are masters at obfuscation and not answering a simple question.
They throw billions of borrowed dollars into this black hole or that, trying to plug a self-made recession, and without any meaningful accountability or oversight. They self-righteously condemn out of control borrowing following years of their own largess and lack of control.
The fix for health care, whatever that might be, may have to wait until the American people can see some tangible progress and some real attempt on the part of the Washington establishment to be ethical, moral, and decent in their personal and professional lives, their behavior, and their dealings with us. Until then, yelling at one-another at town hall meetings may be the best we can do.

A Master At Work

Regardless of what you may think of his politics, watch sometime as President Obama works a crowd. The man is a master at going to a rope line and engaging those who are there in conversation, laughter, and hand-shaking. I don’t think I’ve seen any president that is able to work a crowd better than this man.
That ability will serve him well as he continues into his presidency. He seems able to make a connection with people in a crowd that has been sorely lacking in the last several presidents. Only Kennedy, Reagan and to a lesser extent Clinton came even close to the ability of Mr. Obama to engage the common person.
Oh, by the way, you probably won’t see Mr. Obama work a line on any of the commercial channels. You’ll have to watch one of the C-SPAN channels to see it, but it’s well worth it.

Friendships

My sister has been, as she says, ruminating about friendship and the differences in the concept of friendship as apprehended by men and women. She also talked of losing one of her circle of friends recently to a move out of state and how that worked for her.
I think she is correct regarding how men and women see friendships differently. I know that’s a generalization and that in real life there are exceptions.
I too think from time to time about friendships and who I could count as what sis would consider to be a close friend, or a friend in an inner circle of some kind. I don’t know that I have such a person right now here in the Wichita area. Possibly the closest might be one or two of the men from church that I see on a regular basis.
However, when I think of that circle of friends, I can think of several who, although I haven’t seen them for perhaps years, I still count as a close friend. In many respects, distance and lack of contact do not diminish that tie, and when we do see each other or visit somehow, we just sort of pick up where we left off and go on.
I can think of Steve and Chris, Troy and Richard, Ron and another Richard. I think of Vern and Earl, of Roy and Bill and another Chris, and several others whom I may not have heard from for quite some time, but I believe that both they and I have each other in the “close friends” column. My wife and family may or may not know who these people are, and that’s OK because they are part of my life and my experiences on this planet.
Is it really possible to maintain a friendship like that? I know that it is because when we do see each other it’s obvious that the tie is still there and the friendship has not diminished because of the passage of time or distance apart.
So when Sis says her hubby has no close friends, she may be correct regarding those he sees every day. However, don’t assume there are no friends in his life. If he’s like me and a lot of other men, he will have those in his background and in his past that he still counts among those who are the closest to him, and he cherishes the memories and relishes the day that he is able to make contact one more time.

The Truth

This work week seemed to go by very quickly. It seems that it was only a few hours ago that it was Monday afternoon and now suddenly it’s Friday evening. I have to wonder just how much faster time will seem to fly as I get even older. But they say that time sometimes seems to go very slowly for some of the elderly…those who are infirm or alone. I guess it just depends on one’s perspective.
Speaking of that, I read a blog a few days ago where the writer was talking about absolute truth and our inability to perceive much of it. I agree. There is absolute truth everywhere, but we have difficulty perceiving and understanding it without the biases of our life experiences, perceptions, and incomplete knowledge base. Each of us has our own reality in a very “real” sense. What is reality for me may have no basis in your life experience or knowledge base. The miracle of it all is that we get along as well as we do in spite of our biases and prejudices.
So where does that put the absolute truth of God-breathed words, as many Christians consider the Holy Bible to be? What do we do with that truth? How do we process it? How can we correctly interpret and make useful that truth given our biases, prejudices, and incomplete knowledge? How can we possibly know, as Jesus says, “The truth, and the truth shall make you free?” How can we all agree when we all have different realities to which we relate and in which we live?
I don’t honestly know the answer to this because to take this to its logical conclusion is to admit that we are hopelessly lost in a morass of human frailty and ignorance. For I suspect that we will never in this life know the pure and unvarnished truth of God and His Word, Jesus Christ. I also suspect that the grace of God is covering a whale of a lot of incomplete and inaccurate interpretation and understanding of that truth. But I also suspect that God knows all of this and makes allowances for our fallibility as well as giving us the promise that one day, we will know just as we are known (Paul in the first Corinthian letter).

Spider Update

I told you yesterday about the orb spider that had made a web off of our front porch. I went outside this morning to retrieve the Sunday paper and looked at where the web had been. There was no trace of a web…no floating stringers, nothing.
I don’t think it was destroyed by out side “forces” as there would probably be remnants of the web somewhere around. I am told that many orb spiders spin the web for a short time only to eat it later and spin another one the next night. I don’t know if this is what happened or not, but I plan to look there tonight to see if she is there.

Role Model

Normally, I read “Parade” magazine, which is included in our Sunday newspaper. There isn’t usually that much in there that interests me, but some of the continuing columns, etc. have value to me. This week, however, I was taken by an article about the chief of police of Washington, D.C.
Her name (yes, “her”) is Cathy Lanier and she is a great example of someone who has not only overcome her childhood and teen years (she was a pregnant high school drop-out at age 14), but has taken on the (still predominantly) male establishment with grit and toughness.
I don’t know any more about her than what is in the article (http://www.parade.com/news/2009/08/02-new-ways-to-stop-crime.html) but I always like to hear stories like this. It does my heart good to know that people can indeed rise above the circumstance of life they are in and be a good role model for others in a similar situation. I am especially pleased when women or minorities are featured in ways such as this and hope the day will come when this kind of success becomes the total norm for everyone.

Spiders and Things

Tonight I saw the first orb spider and her web outside. Is that a harbinger of the fall season to come?
I had gone out the front door to just look around about 10:15 tonight and saw right beside the outdoor light a web and large orb spider right in the middle of it. She had built in a good place as the light was on and was attracting bugs. It looked like a few had already been caught.
I am fascinated by these spiders and the engineering that they do when they build a web. They must have a sense of where they are and what is in their near environment in order to fasten the web to the right places. They must also have some sense of weather, wind, and other factors.
I’ve never seen a spider build a web. I’d love to do that. One of these days, maybe I’ll get the chance.
Otherwise, this day was a great day. The temperature was about 80 degrees and the wind was cool from the north. There were birds and dragonflies in the air and the day was one of general chores and relaxation from the harried work week just past. Those kinds of days are few and far between, it seems.
Tomorrow will be warmer, but pleasant, they say. Perhaps by evening I’ll be ready for the work week to come, but for now I’ll enjoy this evening and night.

Saturday Things

After a week at work that seemed to be one disaster after another, waking up today at 8:45am was almost heaven. I must have been really tired because a storm came through last night and I never heard it. Normally, I hear those things readily and wake up.
So this morning has been slow so far. I’ve made coffee, checked the rain gauge (just over an inch) and read the paper. On the agenda today is checking out a tire store for new tires for the car and let’s see…what else was there?
My sister and sister-in-law are spending their last few days on vacation before they start back with their respective school systems. One is a teacher; the other a psychologist. The teacher says she has been working to get ready for the fall for some time now, and even the psychologist has things to do over the summer break.
Although it seems that the summer break is a long time off for school employees, and although I joke with them about it from time to time, I know that when they are at work, they give 110% . in an environment and in a job that not many can do because very few have what it takes to do the job and do it right. The time off is well-earned.
It’s kind of like all of the complaints I’m hearing nowadays regarding President Obama’s frequent trips to here or there, sometimes with his family in tow. The man is the leader of the free world, for heaven’s sake. I don’t care what the person’s politics is…whatever “perks” one might receive do not adequately compensate for the stress, turmoil, responsibility, and constant living in a glass house that come with the presidency.
They earn Secret Service protection after they are no longer President. They earn generous stipends to maintain an office after leaving office. They earn the pension given to each of them. They earn the permanent respect and dignity that befalls such service.
I suppose it’s time to get up and do something, even if it’s wrong. I enjoy days like this and hope your Saturday is just as enjoyable.

Spelt Bread

As I said in an earlier blog, we went to a farmer’s market last Saturday. There were many, many booths there and lots of people, both sellers and buyers. We went past one booth toward the back of the lot and I noticed they were selling breads. Normally, I don’t stop for those as I have no need for more bread in my diet. However, the brightly colored labels caught my eye and I stopped for just an instant.
That’s all it took for the woman at the booth to strike up a conversation with me, telling me that the bread I was looking at was made with spelt. Not knowing what spelt was, I asked.
“It’s a relative of wheat, but makes a bread that is sweeter and nuttier,” according to the woman at the booth.
I bought a loaf and brought it home. It’s been a wonderful experience. Toasted just right, with butter (actually something called “Move Over Butter”) and my homemade pear jelly, it’s a great dessert to any meal. As you might guess, the loaf is now history.
A couple of thoughts here. First, the bakery where this was made is in the 1900 block of East 21st Street in Wichita. That’s out by WSU somewhere. I’d like to go out there sometime and see where it is and what else they may have to sell.
Second, the bread contained, according to the label, “No animal products or by-products.” Olive oil, spelt, sea salt, and other non-animal things were all that was in the bread. There were also no preservatives. I’m not vegetarian, but this bread would fill the bill for someone who was, and won’t hurt me a bit.
Third (and this is the reason for the blog), I said at the outset that I normally didn’t buy breads and pastries at places like this. I did buy a loaf of bread from this woman, however. Why? Because she engaged me right away and sold me on the product. Most all of the other booth people just watched as people looked at their products. They didn’t engage in conversation, try to sell the product, or make any real effort to distinguish their tomatoes from those sold by their neighbor.
This woman, however, was different. She was energetic, knowledgeable, and engaging. I bought a loaf at least in part because she made the effort to sell it. I know I didn’t make or break her day with one loaf of bread; however, she got her product into a household that previously did not have it, and information about her product has now appeared on a blog. Where else that information will go is anyone’s guess.

One With the Plunger

I know this is two blogs in one day (three in two days), but I have to say this yet. A couple of weeks ago, I was called into work after hours to fix a toilet that wasn’t flushing. (If you have a weak stomach, you might want to reconsider whether you want to finish this or not). The aide that called said she had worked with the plunger but couldn’t clear the clog and hoped I would come in and use the “snake” on it. She said they had given the resident of that room a laxative, and it was vital (my word, not hers) to have properly-working plumbing.
I went in, looked over the situation, and decided that although it appeared rather grim, to just use the plunger again. It took some effort, and I had to use a couple of tricks (you didn’t know plunging a potty had any “tricks”, did you), but eventually got everything working without having to resort to the “snake”.
I cleaned things up and went to tell the aide that it was now working. She asked me if I used the “snake” and I told her that I used the plunger instead. She again told me that she couldn’t do it with the plunger and asked me how I did it. I just told her I had to “finesse” it a little, but it all came out well in the end (groan).
She then said, “Oh, so you had to become one with the plunger?”
I laughed and said, “Something like that,” and went on my way.
Being a little more serious here, I don’t know that being “one” with the plunger was the right way to put it, but the thought has merit for whatever we do, it seems. I’m beginning to think that the more we can become “one” with our task or responsibility, the better we can accomplish that task.
What do you think? Are there tasks and responsibilities in life that just don’t call for this kind of devotion? Or is this a good general principle that we could embrace a little more than we sometimes do?

The Market

We went to the farmer’s market this morning. We arrived about 8am and were greeted by “hordes of people” shopping for good deals in produce, household items, decorative plants, crafts, etc. We went for the produce, so I wasn’t very interested in looking at what my sister calls “crippy-crap” things.
There were lots and lots of tomatoes, a good amount of squash and similar items, eggs, potatoes, and scatterings of green beans, rhubarb, beets, watermelon, and other goodies. There were also several bakery-type stands with breads, rolls, pies, and other pastries and sweets.
We got tomatoes, sweet corn, and several of perhaps the only peaches that grew in Kansas this year. If you don’t know, there are virtually no peaches, pears, etc this year due to a late freeze this spring. Most trees are barren of any fruit. However, these peaches came, the woman said, from the Ottawa, Kansas area, and she was ecstatic that she had any fruit at all this year. The peaches were at a stand on the back side of the market, but they were going quickly and she had a limited supply.
We also bought a loaf of bread from a bakery whose address is in the 1900 block of East 21st Street in Wichita. I’m eager to try it with some of my homemade peach and blackberry jelly from last year’s crop. I’d love to find some purple (concord) grapes somewhere and make jelly this year from them. When we lived in Western Kansas, a neighbor had some frozen grape product that she gave me. I strained it and made some sooo good jelly. I’d like to do that again.
We will probably visit the market again soon. Cantaloupe are just now coming into season and there will be more tomatoes, melons, and other produce as the summer winds down. Then this winter, we’ll have to “make do” with what we find in the produce aisles of the local stores…always second-rate compared to fresh from the garden.

MHIP

We live in an interesting (to say the least) time. Pick virtually any subject, and something is happening in that area of life and the world, it seems. Politics? It’s all over the place and seems to be something that just grows and smothers anything that is in the way. Religion? Seems like there’s always some “new” thought or someone who uses religion for some nefarious purpose of some kind. Climate and weather? Global warming is just the half of it. Rain, drought, big storms and others all contribute to the cacophony. Relationships? We’re always and constantly re-defining relationships. Technology? Anything in technology that goes into print is dated as soon as it’s printed.
You get the idea. The world seems to be going ever faster all the time and we who have made it that way seem to be playing catch up more and more. We are inundated with knowledge, deluged with problems and issues, and drowned out with the ever-faster pace of life.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. We don’t have to play the game. We can, to an extent anyway, set our own pace. Some people even chuck it all together and do very well living at a much slower pace. The Amish come to mind first. But there are others, religious or not, that have learned to get off of the treadmill and begin to live.
And as we age, I think we slow down in more ways than just physical. It isn’t so important to us anymore that we keep up with everything. We don’t have to have the latest this or that. And we don’t care what others think about that.
I often wondered, when I was younger, if I would ever be like those who were older in this respect. I find myself now moving inexorably in that direction and not minding a bit. MHIP (Maturity has its privileges)

Are We?

Our minister this morning quoted an unnamed person as saying that some people “are sedated by the monotony of a life that is too small for the breath of God that is within them.”
For some reason that quote really struck a nerve with me. I don’t know if I’m guilty of that kind of living or not. I do know, however, that even our stretching our lives and living to the extreme will not be “adequate” for the breath of God that is within us. And if we’re not stretching living to the extreme, are we indeed guilty of wasting, so to speak, the energy, resources, power and depth of God that even now resides within us?
I’m not going to comment further on this except to ask you to look at your life and ask yourself if you fit the quote (or if the quote fits you). If the reality what we are doesn’t grab us by the guts and make us take notice, maybe we indeed are “sedated by the monotony.” And that would be so sad, indeed.

What a Week

Well, the week is over. And what a week it was! I won’t go into all the details, but all of the descendants of my mom and dad were here except for three who couldn’t make it. It was a lot of work, but well worth everything we put into it.
We renewed contact with those we haven’t seen for some time. We solidified even more our ties to one another and welcomed new members of the family. And of course, we ate. We ate, visited, ate some more, took in the sights (yes, there are indeed things to do in the Wichita area), and generally had a great time.
We also spent a few hours with some relatives on my mother’s side. We took our show to Hesston, Kansas and had a family worship service there along with a couple of uncles, a cousin, and other family members. If there was any time that was truly special and extraordinary, this was it.
So it’s done for another year. How many more of these we’ll be able to do is anyone’s guess. But we’re not getting younger, and some of us are getting downright geriatric. But we’ll continue until it just doesn’t work anymore and hope that the younger ones will take on the tradition of meeting together from time to time.
Thanks to all who made this past week possible. And thanks to all for the sacrifices, work, and effort.

An Apparition

Today we are saying good bye to our house guests, who will move over to our son’s home for the rest of the week. Our other son will stay here and we will welcome my oldest brother and his family sometime this afternoon. That seems like a lot of moving and work, but our son wasn’t home until Monday, having gone to a wedding on the other side of the family in Colorado over the weekend. So sis and her family stayed with us until they got back and settled back in.
So we’re washing towels and bedding, taking out trash and running errands. We’re also wondering about the coming heat wave that has been predicted for here. Highs are to be 100 or greater for the next several days. I changed out the filter in the furnace and cleaned out the air conditioner coils outside. Other than that, I can only hope that everything holds together over these next several days as we will host nine in our home.
As I look over at the basement bar, I see a stack of paper plates, a huge package of napkins, several cases of the snack-size chips, and a tub with assorted paper towels, utensils, etc. overflowing out the top. Our guests are carting out their suitcases, trying to get everything back into the car that came out of it a few days ago. They will be hanging around here for a few more hours before moving, but are removing their belongings from the bedrooms so we can get them ready for the other families.
And here I am sitting here typing on the blog with all of this other activity around me. Sometimes I feel like a kind of an apparition observing the goings on around me, but not quite into the reality of what is happening. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen very often and I see that it will be only a couple of minutes until I need to move the wash along and empty the trash. So much for being an apparition.

The Reunion

Things are becoming somewhat busy at our home this week. We have house guests who have arrived early for the reunion which starts tomorrow afternoon. And we’ve been running errands, buying food, moving chairs, and doing the other things that are necessary to host forty people at our home. I made a list this morning and think I got about everything done, but of course there will be something I forgot. It will be OK, though. We will get through the week just fine.
We’ve been looking forward to this for almost a year. Even though we get together each year, this reunion seems to be a little different. Most everyone in the family will be coming and we will not be staying in a motel, unlike the past many reunions. My brother, son, and I will be putting up all who come. My sister is working with food and other aspects of the reunion and is also keeping us all organized and on track.
Reunions can be great things being and interacting with those we don’t often see, or they can be a lot of work and frayed nerves. Ours have been great things in the past and I don’t see any changes this year. We are close as a family and easily forgive the good-natured jabs that sometimes come our way from a loved one. We know our family well and seem to genuinely enjoy having others around.
This year we’re going to Hesston to have family services with a couple of uncles and a cousin. This will be an extra-special time for all of us and we appreciate being able to do this. Time on this earth is drawing to a close for many of us. We never know, even if we’re younger, how much time we have available here. To make the most of the time we have been given is good, and we think being with family is one way we can do that.
So, these next several days will be a bit crazy, but interesting (to say the least), fulfilling, and fun. Memories will be made and we’ll catch up on the lives of the others in the family. What a fun time this will be!

Another Day

This, the end of another day, is the day before Independence Day. The neighborhood is lit up and noisy as various fireworks, legal and illegal, find their way into the evening sky. I don’t mind the illegal stuff…I was brought up with it and appreciate the responsibility of using the stuff wisely. Still, there is the law….
Today I went to the rehab center and listened to my sister, nephew and niece in a piano concert for the residents. They played, sang, did duets, sang hymns, cowboy songs, etc. They did a good job, worked about an hour, and had the adoration of about half of the residents in the place who came to listen.
I hope sis knows how blessed she is that she can play duets with her grown son, sing with her daughter, and enjoy a musical time together. And I hope they also appreciate their mom and her talent and ability to make music in the air by looking at splotches of ink on paper and translating that into notes on a piano.
Having a good relationship with your grown kids is a really cool experience. And doing something with them that you all enjoy, such as singing and playing, is all the more fun and satisfying.
I enjoy working with my son. He does I/T at the rehab center one afternoon a week. Even that small time is a time I truly enjoy, knowing how much he has (and is) growing to maturity, and marveling at his knowledge of things I can only wonder about. He’s truly a help to me and to all of us there even though he only works a few hours a week.
Tomorrow is, should we be blessed with it, yet another day. We’ll have 24 hours to use. I wonder what we’ll do with all that time?

No Other Way

I’ve been doing some thinking ever since last Sunday. We visited church at the place where we were married last Sunday. In the services, they sang ‘Showers of Blessings”. I don’t like that song because the words say, in part, “Mercy drops (of blessings) around us are falling; but for the showers we plead.”
I think that’s asking a bit much. Here we are in the most prosperous nation on earth and most of us have a roof over our heads and something to eat and wear and much in abundance more, and we sing a song that asks for even more blessings. That takes some nerve.
Anyway, all of that got me to thinking about where we were just a short time ago and where we are now. In November of 2007, we were homeless and were staying in my brother’s bedroom in their house. We had no job, but did have unemployment. We had health insurance courtesy of our church paying the premium and had food and clothing. We weren’t in as bad of shape as many, but for us we were in kind of a bad spot. We lost our jobs at the same time and on no notice. We felt somewhat betrayed by what happened and were left to wonder just what was going on.
So what did we ask God for during that time? Well, let’s see. The list was rather short (at least mine was). I asked for emotional healing from the job loss, work that I could do, a place of our own to live, and beyond that wished for jobs for us that were good enough that we could finally start putting some serious money aside for retirement. Better to start late than not at all, I guess.
In November of 2007, all of that seemed like a pipe dream. Let’s look now and see where we are and what happened. The healing has begun and is continuing. We are much farther along with that than we thought we would be. We both have work that we like to do. We are being paid good salaries and have health and dental insurance, a retirement program, etc. We have a beautiful place to live that we never would have thought we could have found, let alone afforded. And we are indeed putting aside serious money for retirement…in fact, we are stashing cash away monthly that is within a few dollars of what I had thought we would need to do but never would have dreamed that we COULD have done. In addition we got rid of a rather large debt, are putting resources away in good real estate in addition to the cash savings, and are not worrying about paying bills or cash flow.
On top of that we have apparently good health for our ages and have many of the amenities of life…good friends and family, and the “things” that make life easier.
So what happened here? Did all of this just fall into place by happenstance or by our work and tenacity? Some would say yes. And we did have to see the ad in the newspaper, follow up on the ad, submit a resume, etc. And we did have to sign mortgage papers and work hard over the past many years for a good credit rating that enabled us to buy a place. But if you only look at that, you’re missing something.
We are being blessed with “abundantly more” than we asked some 18 months ago. If we’d be doing this on our own, we wouldn’t be where we are and have what we have. We would have been satisfied long ago.
So this isn’t our doing, and it isn’t the doing of coincidence. This is a deliberate act, I believe, on the part of Someone greater than we in response to the cries of two of His children. I can see it no other way.

Going Home

We just came back from a weekend out of town. Tomorrow (Monday) is our 35th anniversary, so we spent the weekend in Northwest Kansas where we met and it all began. There was a bed and breakfast in the community and we stayed there, toured the town, reminisced, drove by places where we used to hang out, live, work, etc., and generally had a good time.
However, that place seemed to be a totally “other world” from what I now know. Always before when we would visit there for some reason, it seemed like a place that was inviting and comfortable. And although I felt comfortable and welcome there, it wasn’t quite the same as it had been before.
I don’t know what changed, but at the close of lunch with friends at a restaurant, I told my wife (quietly) that I was ready to go. As we left the restaurant, I told her that it was time to go home (meaning that I was ready to get back to where we live). I felt no “longing” to stay as the community receded in the rear-view mirror.
I may not be there yet, but one of these days I hope to be able to say the same things about going home to the place that Jesus is preparing for me. As the song says (I can’t remember its name), “There’s nothing to keep me here,” referring to making that final trip at death. The longer I live the more I understand that there really is nothing here that is so important that going home will have to wait.
All in all it was a great weekend of remembering, and sometimes forgetting what I should have remembered. We are blessed to have been able to do it and look forward to the next 35 years.

A Sad Closing

So, the Crown Uptown Theater in Wichita is closing up. I read about that in today’s Wichita Eagle. That’s sad, but I can understand how, in this economy and with the death of Ted Morris some months ago how that could happen.
Mr. Morris was the driving force…creator, owner, and mover behind the Crown. His wife took over operations following his death, and said that she wanted to get out while she still had the money to pay bills, etc. She blamed the economy, but I suspect that they lost some customers due to Mr. Morris not being there any more. Others may not have bought seats figuring the performances somehow were not as good as before. I don’t think any of that would be true, but you know how illogical we consumers can be.
We weren’t regulars at the Crown, but we did attend from time to time and bought season tickets once or twice. Yes, it was somewhat pricey. One could easily spend a hundred dollars for a couple there in a night. But the live shows were, for the most part, well worth the money and the meals were usually good.
Not only is that one less venue for a night out, but it puts a number of people out of work in our community. I know we should be used to that by now, but I cringe a little each time I hear of layoffs here or closings there, knowing that there will be people filing for unemployment, hitting the streets (or the Internet) with a resume, or just wondering what to do next. I’ve been there, done that, and it isn’t fun.
I know they served alcohol there and some of their shows didn’t seem appropriate for my sense of “sensibility”. But to borrow a phrase from my brother, “You can’t sling a dead cat” without hitting a restaurant in Wichita that serves alcohol. One would have to eat at McDonalds or Burger King almost exclusively if one were to avoid the places that served alcohol. I don’t know about you, but I don’t care to try that.
One can also decide which shows to patronize and which to pass. That’s one reason we didn’t buy season tickets any more than we did. Some years the show line up didn’t have what we thought we wanted to see.
In any event, it’s a sadder day in this community because of the closing of the Crown. They worked hard there and it’s been a good run.

My Soapbox (Again)

As I understand it, statistically, about 2/3 of all Social Security disability benefit applications are initially denied for one reason or another. Of those who go ahead with the appeal process, about 2/3 are subsequently approved. Oh, another statistic. The normal backlog of disability claims is up to about 500 days, twice what it was several years ago.
Does this sound like your government doing all it can to serve you? Or does this sound like bureaucracy that is broken, yet going through the motions?
One more thing. Do you realize that this has been going on for years? This isn’t a recent thing. And those who are in charge have known about this problem for a long, long time and have yet to do anything to substantially change and improve the system.
I don’t often get on my soapbox in this blog, but this is worth mentioning. I don’t know if you’ve applied for disability benefits or if you will; but if you do, understand you have an uphill climb ahead. It’s no wonder that there are lawyers out there who advertise on TV saying that they can help you navigate the disability claims process. They’re probably needed in many cases so the ordinary person won’t make some error that will permanently bar them from the claims process.
I know the process needs to be strict enough to weed out those who would abuse the system. But isn’t there a way to do that, yet get the people who have need the benefits that they have coming to them? I don’t know the answer to that, but would hope that someone somehow would find out.

Deeds Follow

I’m not sure what to make of those of you who never blog because you can’t find anything about which to write. Several times in the past few days I’ve run across something that prompts a thought that it might make for a good blog entry. Now, I’ll admit that when I actually sit down to write, that thought doesn’t seem nearly as good as it did when I first thought about it, but who’s counting.
I’ll not give you the specifics, but this past week at work I ran across a situation where the professional who installed an item knew at the time that he was installing it incorrectly (because of what it was, he HAD to have known), yet he installed it anyway and tried to cover what he did. This wasn’t just any yokel from down the street. If I told you the name of the plumbing and heating contractor that did this, you folks in the immediate Wichita area would know right away who it was.
In any event, I contacted the general contractor who did our building and let loose with one of my “not acceptable” speeches. The general contractor generously provided a man to contact the offending company, stay with the repairs, and make sure that they were done as they should have been done. They will even improve the installation with things not in the original plan at no cost to me.
I guess that’s OK, but that doesn’t change my perception of this plumbing/heating contractor as someone who just doesn’t give a rip. And it’s not just this incident, but others I’ve encountered over time that have solidified that perception in my mind. I’d not use him at my home if he would be the last heating guy in Wichita. I’d sooner shiver in a cold house than to use him. OK, well maybe not THAT, but close.
Why do people do things like that? What drives them to cut corners, do shoddy work, and cheat on something that should be done correctly? Is it greed? Stupidity? Ignorance? Laziness? I don’t know the answer to that, and I suspect it’s not quite that simple and easy. Nevertheless, it’s a pain in the rear to have to go back later on and fix what should have been done right the first time.
I know I’m not perfect. I know I’ve cut corners. I know I’ve been lazy. And I know that I’ve been stupid. Those times, however, were I believe few and far between. I was always taught to do it right and do my best, especially if someone else was paying for the service. By and large, I think I’ve tried to live that way.
I now wonder what else this contractor did at my workplace that is not up to snuff and that I will find one of these days. kind of makes one just a wee bit nervous. Thankfully, he is NOT working on our new facility in Derby. Someone else has that bid.
It really is true that our deeds follow us. I wonder why so many seem to have trouble believing that.

Some Days

Sometimes, when one begins to complain about the weather, it pays to see what other people are dealing with weather-wise. The forecast for tomorrow (for the South Pole) is a high of 40 below with a chance of snow and overcast. The wind chill is expected to be about 86 below. Now, something like that immediately causes one to pause and be thankful for what seem to be the small things in life.
Today was OK for me regarding weather, but work was a bummer. It seems things are breaking faster than we can repair them. I know the building is only a year and a half old, but this is getting ridiculous. Part of the problem, as I found out today, is contractors that do a shoddy job and try to cover it up. It works for awhile, then something happens and everything goes down the tubes.
On a better note, we have a new housekeeper who seems to be doing a good job. She garnered three compliments today from different people, and seemed to pick up on the job rather quickly.
Now, before you go off and say, “It’s just a housekeeping job. How hard can that be?” I need to tell you that this is in a nursing home, and the job is not menial, not mundane, and certainly not for those unwilling to work or who don’t know how to take direction. The State of Kansas and CMS (Medicare and Medicaid) regulate nursing homes to the nth degree, including housekeepers. It’s not for the person with a casual or cavalier attitude toward work.
Tomorrow is Friday. That’s always good. Hopefully, things will sort of come together tomorrow at work and the weekend will be pleasant.

The Week That Was

I’ve been a little slow to write recently. A lot has happened in the past seven days, much of it not good. You all are aware that Wichita is now going through the death of Dr. George Tiller. That has affected everyone here regardless of what side of the abortion debate one is on, or if one even has a side. I know that all murders should probably rate this same kind of condemnation and coverage, but the fact is that they don’t. Some are just more high profile than others and this is one of those.
Our church is changing its name beginning June 1. That is exciting for us as it helps usher in other plans for the future as well. I enjoy where we worship and fellowship and am thankful God brought us to that place.
I am having issues with one of my employees at work, and will have to deal with that next week. I never enjoy having to do these kinds of things even though I have managed other people for many years. Contrary to the Dilbert comic strip where Catbert, evil Human Resources Director, enjoys torturing employees, for me anyway it’s never a pleasant thing or something I look forward to. I’ll be glad when the day is done on Monday.
I need to prepare a Bible class for this summer session. I’m teaching only one topic, but will give the lesson four times as we rotate through four adult classes. My topic is “Washing the Disciples’ Feet.” All summer we are devoting classes to stories and topics in the Bible having to do with water. I felt almost uniquely qualified to teach this class as I probably am the only one of the list of teachers who has ever actually done this as part of a religious observance. I don’t know if the church of my heritage still practices this or not…Wayne, maybe you can help enlighten me on that (also, Wayne, if you have any thoughts, ideas, resources etc. on the subject that you could share, I’d like to hear them)…but I will always be grateful for the lessons it taught me, even at the young age I was when I participated.
I’m not sure that there is any specific and strict command out of Scripture that tells us we need to literally wash one-another’s feet, but to do that in a proper and dignified occasion is indeed a great symbol of our call to serve, which is specific.
And while we’re on the subject, I wish sometimes we would practice the act of kneeling before our God and Maker from time to time. Again, there is no specific command, I think, but we sometimes are so “casual” in approaching our God in prayer and worship. Somehow, I don’t think we’ll stand in awe of Him as the song says, but rather I think we’ll be face down prostrate on the ground for a time until His gentle hand helps us up. Kneeling helps us have a more clear understanding, I think, of that eternal moment.
Today we’ll spend much of the day in Central Kansas at a birthday celebration. We’ll be leaving momentarily, so I need to sign off. Have a good weekend.