Floppy Hat Day--and the Hat With Three Names

Today I did something I never did before.

I attended a Floppy Hat Party! 

That is what 55-year-old ladies can do on a Monday now that their children are grown up and can do their own laundry on Monday.

Each lady who came to the party was to bring a salad, and we were invited to wear a floppy hat--the more decorations on it the better!

After making my salad plate, I tried to decorate my $1 hat (that I got a long time ago from Dollar Tree) with real flowers from our front porch.

I put a name tag on the hat, too, "My Front Porch Fresh Flowers Hat."

I stuck that tag on a toothpick through the crown of the hat--until I remembered that I would have to wear the hat, and the toothpick would be sticking into my head! 

Taping the tag on the side didn't work, either. The tape did not stick.

I was going to wrap each stem with a bit of wet paper towel and tape each flower to the hat, but, as I said, the tape would not stick. So, as the minutes ticked by later and later, I sewed the flower stems onto the hat with needle and thread. 

I decided to rename my hat, "Almost-in-Tears-Because-It's-Making-Me-Late Hat."

 I was rushing out of the house five minutes after the party was supposed to begin, and I had at least 15 minutes to drive yet. 

Now the hat had yet another name. 

"Almost-Had-an-Accident-Hat."

Except I really was not that close to an accident, just had to pull over once to rescue my salad plate after I went too fast around a corner and stuff slid onto the salad plate.

It was worth going to the party. We had a lovely time of visiting, getting to know the other ladies, and playing a "Two Truths and a Lie" game.

Each lady had to write down two statements about herself that were true, and one that was not true. The rest of us had to guess which one was the fib.

It was a unique way of getting to know each other. 

We discovered how many met their husbands on a blind date (at least three), which lady had polio as a baby, which one loves to wash dishes (or crochet, or smock, or ski), and which one actually learned to follow directions! 

We found out that the lady next to me had smuggled Bibles into Russia in the 90's. (I told her I wanted to hear her story some time.)  

We found out that one lady used to manage a wedding venue in Las Vegas, and one time a man was having his 22nd wedding!!  

The two ladies who especially like to play pickleball were encouraged to make plans to get together. 

When I shared my statements about teaching in Honduras and meeting my husband in Ukraine, two ladies reminded me that they wanted my book, and so I sold two of my books today!

What a fun time!

Father's Day--and Acing the Hunters Ed Course Test

The day before Father's Day turned out better than I expected. 

Friday and Saturday Hannah and her friend took the Hunters Education Course in town, and I joined them because I didn't want my youngest daughter in town alone all day, and also I thought, "Who knows? Maybe someday in the future I will want to hunt (kind of far fetched, but who knows?), and for just $10 I can take this course with Hannah."

So I did.  

I was almost sick with worry about how I would perform at the indoor shooting range, especially with "handing off the rifle," but it ended up that the instructors simply laid the guns on the table in front of the marksmen, and we just had to shoot ten rounds.

Thankfully, nine out of ten of my bullets hit the paper deer target. 

Hannah did much better than I. 

All her shots hit inside the circles on the target, and two of her shots hit the bulls eye!

Her instructors were so impressed, they kept asking her questions about where she had learned to shoot so well. They said statistically women are better aims than men!

They called her Annie Oakley!

We were in classes several hours Friday night and most of the day Saturday at a new sportsman's business in town called Scheels, which is like Bass Pro. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of people were in there. They had statues of our founding fathers and famous presidents out front.

It was so refreshing to go into somewhere that felt normal and conservative and healthy and even God-honoring.
At the end of the course, I was afraid I missed several questions. But the instructor scanned my test and wrote a percent on it, and looked at me and kind of shook his head, looking at me with that same kind of look that Prof McIntire used to give me when I "went through the ceiling," as he called it, scoring up to 110% on his tests, because Prof McIntire at Penn View would give extra questions for extra credit since many students struggled with his tests. He would give us handouts telling us exactly what to study, and I could never figure out how people could do poorly, but then I could memorize better than I could come up with essays for other teachers' tests.

Well, today again I couldn't believe I had made 100%!

While I was doing the test, it had been so long since I was in classes like that and taking tests, that it was bringing back lots of memories of college days.

It was also reminding me of how grateful I am that my mom taught me phonics so I could read that test well today; and how Dad insisted that I take a speed reading course before going to college, so I could read the question at a glance.

I also thought later how Mom and Dad expected excellence from us in our academics, education, and speech, and how they insisted that we memorize Scriptures and poems. 

And how Dad would tell us to never leave a question unanswered on a test, but to at least make our best guess.

That stood me in good stead today--I made my best guess on more than one question!

All of that came back to bless me today--the day before Father's Day.

Thanks, Dad! 

"Dear God, Help This Casserole!"

I know a picture of a mostly eaten casserole does not have the aesthetic appeal...

...of, for example, a patchwork potholder I made for a wedding shower last week.   

Or the graduation cap we made with money a couple weeks ago...

...for our niece Danielle Lucas, Rob's daughter...

...who graduated from high school.   

 

 But that is precisely the point.  This was quite the casserole, and it's a miracle most of it was eaten!

Friends stayed with us overnight Sunday and all day Monday while our family processed our steer which had been getting out of the fence several times too many and was going to cost us an arm and a leg to keep feeding hay.

Anyway, by the time that huge job was mostly done, I was already exhausted and had not been able to figure out everything for supper yet for 18 people besides baked potatoes, two carrot cakes (which the little boy declared he did not like), and deviled eggs (made with mustard and relish, both of which the same boy said he did not like).

  It was coming down to the final stretch, and in  a pinch of desperation, I pulled a bag of already cooked chicken out of the freezer and put it in a pan with a little water to thaw that chicken to make into something (I wasn't sure what yet). 

Except that when I pulled it out of the bag, it looked like maybe it was turkey instead.

Or, upon looking closer, was it rabbit?

I did not have time to argue about that. 

Then I found a couple boxes of stuffing down in the basement, (both different kinds), and fluffed them with butter and hot water the way the recipe on the box said, and then mixed the meat in, plopped blobs of Velveeta cheese all over the top, and threw it all in the oven.

That is when I started praying (or maybe I was praying already). 

"Please, Lord, help this casserole!"

(I don't know if other cooks pray over their food, but this one does!)

I kept checking it, and when the blobs of cheese were half-melted, the casserole looked worse instead of better.

So I prayed again, "Please, Lord, undertake for this casserole!" I felt terrible for cutting up nice beef all afternoon, only to feed our company chicken or turkey, but when I tried to cut a piece of beef into stirfry for supper, it was too tough for my dull knife, and I was too exhausted to cut anymore.

And so the Lord just simply undertook. 

When the cheese was all melted, that casserole looked much better, and everyone was so hungry that they didn't seem to notice when I explained that I hadn't been sure if the meat was chicken, turkey, or rabbit.

(I had thought of simply calling it "Prairie Chicken Casserole," sorta like the meals I read about while skimming through this book from a friend, about the history of an area of Colorado near us, 

olden times when all they had to eat for meat was ducks and jackrabbits.

"What did she say it was?" the little boy asked his mother.

"Casserole!" his mother wisely responded, plopping a dollop of it on his plate.

He ate it, and so did everyone else!

It was delicious! It nearly disappeared!

They also ate some of everything else, and the little boy kept coming back for more deviled eggs, despite the mustard and relish in them which he had been sure he would not like!

He even liked the carrot cake which he had thought he would not like!

Thank You, Lord, for helping my casserole--and everything else!

A Bit Too Rustic to Be Cool

 Jonathan and I are a bit too rustic to be cool.

Or classy.

We like pictures like this best--us by an old fence in the aspen and flowers on our way to Ranch Haven where Jonathan was supposed to be maintenance man for a week.

We are so one of a kind that we haven't found anyone quite like us. 

We even loved to eat the elk and gravy and mountain lion meatloaf served at the youth camp last week.

Some of the young people thought it was a joke.

It wasn't.

 That was real mountain lion meatloaf cooked by the cook, Amy Bryant, and it was delicious!

It's kind of unnerving being this rustic and one-of-a-kind--until you discover that nearly every other person on the planet feels kind of the same way.

Maybe it's because none of us is alike any more than any flower or snowflake or aspen or star in the sky is alike. God made each of us unique.

The last nine days have been so busy that I have hardly had time to breathe--and I've felt very, very rustic and very, very un-cool.

It started off with most of our family making it in to Colorado Springs to hear the Penn View quartet at Foothills Missionary Church during western conference, and also getting to hear an outstanding message by Frank Heidler.

(The photo above is actually in western CO.)

Then Timmy, Jonathan and I took off on Saturday to travel over to western Colorado to help prepare for youth camp at Ranch Haven, where Jonathan has made great friends with Mike Sayler and Timmy has made friends with Hunter.

At home, Timmy had sawn the lumber for three rustic picnic tables--to match the rustic western camp decor.

Then when we arrived, he and other young men unloaded that lumber stacked in Jonathan's truck, and put the tables together.

Rustic, as I said. 

Perfect to go along with the wild turkeys (pictured above)

 and deer that come to the pond nearby (if you can pick them out in the photo above). 

This last week I could relate to the wild turkeys or deer that tried to come to their favorite haunts near the cabins at Ranch Haven, only to be spooked by the noise and presence of humans.

Sometimes I just wanted to fly away from all the commotion, and other times, I did fly away--by taking a walk down this "Prayer Walk" path.

I went as far away as I could and sat down on a rock with my bare feet in the dirt.

Enjoying a quiet time with God away from the noise.

(Too rustic, I suppose.)

But we also had a great time with friends.

Sunday morning we attended Western Colorado Holiness Chapel where the Penn View Quartet was singing again. And in the evening we traveled with friends to Grand Junction to Cottonwood Bible Church, an independent church, where the quartet was again singing!

Our girls' friend, Katie Sayler, is pianist for the group, and her heart is so into her music. She is a blessing to watch. (Her grandparents are on the far left, from near Jefferson City, MO.) We loved getting acquainted with them, and hearing her grandparents' stories about their early life, everything from his work in the navy to his fishing trips.)

 

The more I saw and heard this quartet, the more I liked them. 

Genuine. Sincere. Earnest. 

(And below, in front of us at church there is a young couple, Jeffrey Anderson, former quartet member, and his girlfriend Anna Brubaker. They flew in for youth camp and got engaged during youth camp. Kim Sayler and Joy McDonald fixed them a breakfast picnic basket and decorated a little table out in the woods--and the two took off one morning and came back engaged! It was a highlight of the camp!)

Well, rustic, one-of-a-kind, wild at heart like a deer or wild turkey,

I can take all my feelings and different-ness to Christ and know--

that in Him I have someone Who understands and still loves,

someone I belong to,

and a home for my heart.

God Provides for Crystal!

A couple weeks ago we found out about a casual estate sale not far away. Crystal came along, for, Lord willing, she will be setting up housekeeping in August in Missouri where she'll be teaching, and she needed quite a few kitchen items.

The two relatives there were glad to see the kitchen things go to a good cause and gave us great deals on everything! Pans, waffle iron, food chopper, spices, etc. There were even a number of games, puzzles, and other items for school activities.

There were even several boxes, bags, or bins of grocery items which they simply gave us free!

There was also a sleeping bag and sleeping mat to use when the cousins go camping!

Crystal tried that out on our living room floor!

How thankful we were to see God provide for our daughter!

And there was a mother-of-the-bride dress which I ended up purchasing, in the hopes of wearing it someday (if the colors match!)

I keep going to my window and surrendering my dearest hopes and wishes for my children to the Lord. I've had several special items hanging in my closet, hoping to someday wear one of them to a wedding.

But before we start going down that road, here is a beautiful sunset.

                                        And here is a well drilling rig where Jonathan works.

And here are herbs Rose grew in cans on the window sill. Basil, parsley, and so on.

Because until those special days come along, 

the ordinary days go on!

And I remind myself--God is faithful!

When Things Explode--Rainbows Still Arch

POW!

Something in the kitchen exploded recently, or sounded like a gun went off. As we went around the kitchen a little nervously, we discovered that this glass lid on our electric skillet had shattered into thousands of little pieces!

Not sure how that happened. The skillet had been cooling and was unplugged for some time before this happened. I just figured that as the teflon electric skillet cooled, it may have become tight against the sides of the lid, causing it to shatter.

I don't know.
I just know there was an explosion and we had to gingerly carry that skillet out, with a towel over it in case the glass decided to go every which way. 

There are other kinds of explosions, too, and times when your heart is left in a million pieces. 

Sometimes there isn't an explosion to go along with it, or a big pow! 

 Just the last straw sort of thing with no fanfare.

Or a sudden decision by others which leaves your life in the lurch.

Whatever our shattered lid or heart might consist of, God keeps letting us know that His promises are faithful and He is still there for us, even when our heart has been patched for the thousandth time,

and still feels like the explosion just happened. 

 His rainbows still arch against the darkest clouds.

Repairing the Septic System--oh, Glorious Job!

Last week's evenings were mostly spent out back working on the septic system.  

Oh, glorious job!

 

Let's just say it needed help, and the critters out there had knocked over every single one of the vent pipes.

Jonathan and boys had to dig to find the ends of about twenty-five 100-ft pipes, saw off the ends, and use a pressure washer with a special power nozzle to makes its way down all 100 feet of pipe to clean it out, then replace the pipe ends and new pipe vents.

 We think our system is okay and working right again.

 Life seems to be only too full of troubleshooting and fixing problems.

Like when Jonathan's crew started in to repair the soffet at this place, only to have things fall apart. 

I am reading about two or three or four verses a day from Hebrews 11 right now. 

I'm enjoying meditating on short passages at a time. 

Yesterday this verse spoke:

"He looked for a city which had foundations, whose builder and maker is God." 

Foundations are being dug down south and trusses delivered. Trenches are being dug in Black Forest for pipes and electric lines, etc.  

 But in the midst of all that, we look for a City which has everlasting foundations,

whose builder and maker is God. 

 This old world simply is not our home.

We are just passing through!

Help us, Lord, to be counted worthy of that beautiful City called Home!