The Square Peg

I'm a little behind in doing this but I've been kinda busy.

Our request to change our leave date (which we asked for in case the orders didn't get here soon) was accepted. We fly out January 24th. And five months after receiving notification of our upcoming change of station, we got our orders. Now the pace picks up for us...scheduling packing shipments, shipping the truck, turning in my car (it's a lease) and deciding what goes in the suitcases and carry on bags will dominate our thoughts and direct our energies over the next 7 weeks. Those things will also be the direct cause of our stress and headaches during that time, as well as some time after.

We went to Louisiana to visit our friends for Thanksgiving. We had a great time and after having so much fun with Cheryl's girls, I am seriously petitioning God for granddaughters (just not right now).   Annaliese and Eleora played hopscotch and colored on the front porch with me and it rained during the night before we left. When Eleora woke up and saw our artwork had vanished, she told her mom our "skips" were gone. Here are a few pictures that are too cute not to share with you.

 

• the EXTREMELY hot fire at the weenie roast. It was so hot Cheryl thought I was going to walk away from the bonfire with a tan.  The roasting sticks weren't long enough and I was afraid my eyebrows were going to be singed off. (When you read that last part, I hope you read 'singed' with the j sound. If you read it with the g sound, you're probably wondering how a fire could sing my eyebrows off.)
  
• the Tea Party...it was the first tea party I've ever attended. I wish I would've had time to go buy a hat and gloves for it.
  
• the four pounds of spinach dip Cheryl and I consumed at Grandmother's house on Thursday. Well, Troy said it was 4 pounds; Cheryl and I swear it couldn't have been more than 3 - 3.5 pounds tops.
  
• Eleora's sign language/hand gestures when asking for pumpkin bread. She looked like she was snapping a pencil in half while asking, "Miss Eva, can I have a piece of pumpkin bread?"
  
• Kael's numerous reminders to Moose that the boys had to play Halo before bed time. Kael's only 7 years old but he had more kills than Moose did.
  
• Watching Home Alone in the dark and hearing the kids laugh and shriek all the way through it. Especially when Joe Pesci's character's head caught on fire.
• Trying to corral the two dogs when they were in the room with the little kids was like trying to nail Jello to a tree. I think Gabriel got knocked down and/or bumped a record number of times. To say he didn't appreciate it would be putting it mildly.
  
• The ridiculously long, wrong, King Kong trip and order at Starbucks on Black Friday night. (OK, so King Kong wasn't involved in any way, but I wanted to include another "ong" word.) I bet Troy never suggests stopping by Starbucks again. The girl at the window actually told him, "it's Black Friday and we had our butts handed to us all day long." Troy's order was the only one that was correct on the first go-round, even though all the drinks had been repeated to us correctly when going back over the order.
• Troy's one good eye - So Troy has something wrong with one of his eyes and it requires drops to be put in it. The drops cause his eye to dilate...yet he still beat Moose at golf. And read street signs from far distances. And spotted details the rest of us missed in the video game we played. All with "my one good eye". LOL

Today I attended the funeral of a friend's dad. "Grandpa" was retired from the Air Force, worked for the public school system and was a volunteer fireman, among other things. He was a noble kind of man, the kind we don't have enough of in this world.

A person didn't have to spend a lot of time with Grandpa to know how much he loved his family, to know that he was an honest, hard-working man, or that he was a generous person. I don't say that Grandpa was generous because he gave money (although he did); he was generous because he gave himself...to his wife, his children, his co-workers and neighbors. And the impact he had on people's lives was very evident today at his service. His children spoke of him with love, admiration, and deep respect. That's not common enough these days, in my opinion. As I was driving to the burial site, I noticed a flag in the distance being flown at half staff. I knew in my gut it was in honor of Grandpa, but couldn't guess who was flying it. It was the Fire Station. And as I approached, I saw the men on duty had pulled one of the trucks out of the bay and parked it by the side of the road with its lights on. And while the mile-long line of cars drove by, the men on duty stood at attention and saluted the procession. I gasped out loud when I saw them because it was neat to see that kind of  respect displayed. And today was a nasty day to be standing outside. It was incredibly blustery and cold, but those men didn't move until we had all passed by.

I've never been to an interment that was attended by the Honor Guard. That was quite a sight to behold. An American flag had been draped over Grandpa's casket and I was standing very near the team at the cemetery as they removed it so it could be folded and presented to his wife. Until today, I didn't know it was possible to fold a piece of fabric with such a high degree of respect, dignity, and honor. Each fold of the material was followed by a trace of its crease to be sure it was right, and the precision of their movements mirrored the pride with which the Honor Guard pays homage to its service-members. From the opening prayer to the gun salute and playing of 'Taps', Grandpa's life of honor was reflected in today's celebration of his life.

Living an honorable life really does mean something. Showing respect to our flag and the people who serve and have served to defend it really does mean something. Honesty, integrity and ethics really do mean something.

Moose recently pointed out something about me I was unaware of:  I have special food requirements for specific activities. I'm not talking about having turkey at Thanksgiving or ham at Christmas; honestly, I could take either one at either holiday or during the year. I have no preference whatsoever. But a road trip just isn't right without Cheetos Puffs to go with my Diet Coke. I rarely buy Cheetos Puffs for the house, but I never go on a road trip without stopping at a gas station to buy a 99 cent bag of those crunchy, air-filled treats that leave my fingers covered in orange residue.

And last night I discovered I have a special food for Skype: popcorn.

There's no point to this post other than to share that weird tidbit with you. You may now resume your regularly scheduled life, already in progress.
Peace.

I woke up with the thought of coffee permeating the entire essence of my brain. Most days, on a scale of 1 to 10, I’m about a 2 or 3 with regard to desire for coffee. This morning I was a big, ol’, fat 15. I honestly thought (for a few minutes) I was going to break my coffee fast. I don’t need to spend the money, don’t need the calories, and don’t need the sugar. But I wanted it.

I found out last night at dinner that Catholics partake (on the Sabbath only) in whatever it is they gave up for lent. And this morning I wanted to be Catholic. Real bad. But as much as I wanted coffee, I want this Easter season to be more more.

I’m still thinking about how I want to mark this Easter and the ending of Lent. I have an idea but I’m going to keep thinking it over and share it with you later. But I will tell you that this idea involves special shoes and, of course, coffee.

Ciao!

I’ve heard about Lent throughout my life, but never actually celebrated Lent personally. Until now.

For the past few years, I have felt as if Easter had sneaked up on me and was gone before I knew it, but I determined this year would be different. I wanted a fresh perspective for Easter this season and there’s nothing like intentional, laser-focused awareness to bring about a change of view (and heart). This year I am contemplating Easter and celebrating its meaning in a very deliberate way; by giving up coffee during the Lenten season.

I spent nearly two weeks thinking about what I would give up for Lent to assist with my paradigm shift. I considered giving up carbs, soda, caffeine, TV, and the internet before settling on coffee. I even toyed with the idea of doing it backward and adding something new into my life rather than removing something. But in the end, I kept coming back to coffee. I consider coffee to be my greatest indulgence, so giving it up will be a meaningful and challenging sacrifice for me.
I expect it won’t be easy. I expect to be challenged. I expect to miss it. But each time I think about coffee, I’m going to redirect my focus onto Easter’s meaning and purpose. I’m not sure how I’ll mark the finale of the Easter season yet. But I’ve got 46 non-coffee-drinking days to consider it.

Do you celebrate Lent? If so, I’d love to hear about what you’re giving up and why.
Peace out.

Hmmph. At 2:36 this morning, my "baby" turned 19.

He can eat with utensils, wipe his own butt, wash his own laundry, clean a house, add and subtract, read, manage a checking account, knows how to carry on a conversation appropriately with an elderly adult, change a baby's diaper, and appreciates cute kids and puppies and the joy their innocence brings to the world. He lives true to himself while being a loyal friend and wannabe commedian who knows how to enjoy life. He'll be a great husband, father, uncle, and world contributor.

Mission accomplished. Where did the time go?

The attack began around 12:45 pm; that's when Moose walked through the kitchen door from the garage. As he put the bags of groceries on the counter, he noticed something was out of place. The sight of a single can of shaving cream on a piece of paper in the living room doorway floor caught his eye. He leaned slightly forward to read the sign. There were 3 lines.

I gotta admit, I flipped out a little when I turned 30. I kept thinking about all the stuff I hadn't done and wanted to do, thought about all the stuff I had done and wished I hadn't, and all the stuff that was still to come, and wondered what my place was in all of that. Well, my birthday has rolled around again.

Today, after spending most of my days in the "T" zone (teens, twenties & thirties), I entered the "F" zone. I'm forty. That's right, the big 4-0, middle age, over the hill, etc.

But I gotta tell ya, entering the F zone hasn't been like turning 30 at all. And if I started to think some thoughts today similar to the ones I had when I turned 30, they were quickly and decisively dismissed this morning when Moose came in to kiss me good bye before work. He put my face in his hands and said "gosh, you don't look 40". Go ahead, call me vain. Tell me I'm shallow; I don't care. There was something about the way he said it that cemented the goodness of entering 'the F zone'. I'm cool with it.

If being 40 is as much fun as turning 40 has been, I'm gonna like the F zone a lot. I was sung to (twice), sent several good wishes and emails, given gifts I had mentioned I wanted, and came back to work after lunch to discover two, count 'em two, bouquets of flowers in my office; both of which contained purple flowers in honor of my favorite color. This birthday will long be remembered as the coolest one. And since I'm 40, there are a lot of birthdays to compare!

If you're reading this and you were one of the well-wishers, I want you to know you touched me deeply with your thoughtfulness. Thanks for celebrating the anniversary of my birth.