The Adventures of Joe, part 3

Joe followed Carl across the building to a heavy metal door at the other end.  Carl was moving quickly, but Joe looked around as he hurried along.  The garage was more like a huge warehouse.  Enormous lights hung down from the ceiling, maybe 30 feet above, glowing brightly.  There were no windows.  Everything looked gray.  Joe could smell oil and burning rubber.

There were various large pieces of odd machinery; people were working on jeep-like vehicles and what looked possibly like tanks or weapons.  Some people clad in grimy coveralls were welding, while mechanics hammered.  Another group of people was lifting a heavy section of some strange looking craft and setting it into place on a weird war-like contraption.  They all wore masks, goggles, aprons, gloves and boots; so Joe could not tell what they looked like or if they were even men or women.

Carl held the door open, motioning Joe to catch up.  It was beyond strange seeing Carl all grown up.  He had just been out to visit at Joe's house for Christmas a month before.  Carl was five years old then, and now here he was probably 26 or so.  He was lean but strong, intent looking, forceful.  Carl stood about 6' 2", not quite as tall as his dad, Joe's big brother Kim.  Kim was the oldest of the four boys.  He and Boe were close in age, and then Joe's parents didn't have any more kids for 16 years, until Ray was born.  Joe guessed that if Carl was 26, Kim would have to be 51 or so....51!

By this time they had walked down the long, dimly lit corridor to another steel door.  Carl opened it and waited for Joe to enter.  Three men were huddled around a computer screen on a table with their backs to the door.  Then the tallest spun around--It was Kim!

The Adventures of Joe, part 2

...of Pickles grabbing a napkin off the kitchen table, which had a partially eaten cookie and cup of milk sitting on top of it. CRASH!  The mug landed hard on the ceramic tile, milk and broken cup shards sprayed everywhere.   "Pickles!! Raymond Randall Miller!!  Now look what you've done!" "Me? I..."  "Help me clean up this mess right now!" his mother shrieked as she grabbed a handful of paper towels and stormed over to the spill.  Ray knew it was no use trying to explain to her that the cookie and milk had been Joe's, but he noted to himself it was even more evidence that Joey was truly missing.  When had he ever left a cookie half-eaten? Never.

------

Joe blinked.  He blinked again.  Surely this was a dream.  He looked around but saw only darkness.  He was strapped into some sort of small pod--and then--BAM! All at once a door flung open and there was light.  Joe stepped out of the tiny vehicle and found himself in what seemed like a very large garage.  "We'd better get moving.  I'll take you straight to my dad," said...Carl??  Joe was completely confused.  Just moments earlier he had been in his room, looking for a certain lego piece he needed to return to his friend, Timmy.  He had interrupted his afternoon snack to go find it, so he wouldn't forget... when suddenly a vehicle of some sort had appeared at his open second-story window!

The floating craft was small--like an amusement park ride, sort of round, not terribly shiny, blue and white-ish, as if sky-camouflaged.  A door swung open and a slender, blond-haired, blue-eyed young man appeared.  "Joe!  It's me, Carlton!  Get in!  We've got to go!"  "Carlton?" Joe wondered, even more baffled.  The only Carlton he knew was his nephew, who was six years old.  (Joe had a brother who was 21 years older than him so he had been an uncle since he was four.)  "Joe! Come on!"  Carlton had opened the window screen and was reaching for Joe's arm.

"Hey!  What--who??" Joe stammered.  "Joe! It's me, Carlton, your nephew!  I'm from the future!  We have to hurry!"  the young man asserted.  He did seem to resemble Joe's nephew...but this was crazy.  "Okay," Joe thought, "I am dreaming for sure!  So, what the heck, I'll go with him.  No doubt I'll wake up before I even get out the window."  But he hadn't woken up.  And now he was in this giant concrete building, skittering after...Carlton, his nephew from the future??

The Adventures of Joe

Daniel thinks my blog is boring.  So this one's for him.


Joe was a pretty quiet kid, so his mom didn't really think anything of it when he had not been heard from for a couple of hours.  She just thought he was playing with legos in his room.  She didn't know that he was actually miles and miles away.

Joe's brother, Ray, was the first to notice.  "Hey Ma, where's Joey?" he called trotting down the brown carpeted stairs of their two-story home.  "I don't know, I thought he was with you," she muttered from the kitchen.  Clearly her mind was on other things, like cutting up carrots for a stew she was making.  "Nah, he's not anywhere in the house--I looked." "Well you're not very good at looking, as I recall," Ray's mom snorted, insultingly.

"Maybe he's outside." Ray grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.  Pickles, their lovable mutt, wagged her tail, jumping toward him.  "Aw, ya wanna come with, girl?" Ray turned and patted her head. "Okay; Ma--I'm taking the dog!" he called, grabbing her leash and putting it on her collar.  She tugged him out the door.  "Shhh!  I'm trying to listen to this radio program!" his mom clucked as she turned up volume on the droning speaker.

Ray and Pickles wandered the yard, but couldn't find Joe anywhere.  Ray began to worry.  In spite of his mother's criticism, he really had looked for Joe all through the house, and now all over the yard and down the street.  Since they had moved to this house only six months ago, his mom would not let them wander the neighborhood on their own.  He knew Joe would not have gone anywhere by himself.  He headed back inside.

"Mom, are you sure you didn't tell Joe he could go somewhere?  Like maybe to Timmy's house, or to play Pokemon go?"  "No, of course not.  You know this neighborhood is full of weirdos and thieves.  He was up in his room playing legos.  Maybe he's hiding in a closet or something."  Ray's mom didn't seem at all concerned, which he found rather irritating.  "Mom, Joe is missing!  Don't you even care?!" he shouted.

His mom looked up just in time to catch a glimpse...


To be continued.

Hey There, Sandy Girl

So, we got a dog.  Her name is Sandy (the boys named her).  She is about 40 lbs., a lovable mutt with short brown hair, floppy-ish ears, sad-looking eyebrows, and a long wiry tail.  Her ears actually remind me of Sister Bertrille's hat in The Flying Nun.  She is one and three months, still somewhat of a puppy, and yet when she lies down on the floor she kind of grunts--more like an old lady.

Sandy had a good first Christmas.  The grandkids were here so there was lots of food spilled to lap up and general stickiness, plus all the excitement.  When they were gone I noticed she seemed extra affectionate towards me for a day, maybe thankful we didn't send her away with the rest of 'em.  Anyway, she got lots of presents.  After the first couple she actually made her way under the tree and grabbed out the last squeaky dog toy by herself--she recognized it as hers.  It was a moment of great pride as Ron and I beamed at each other congratulating ourselves on her brilliance.

Sandy, Mrs. Sanderson, Saundra, Sandy Pants, or Sandy Beaches Underfoot (as my daughter Lindsay named her) is called by many names.  She may also be referred to as Shtinky, Da Baybay, Moy Boyboy, Wittow Gowow, and other ridiculous embarrassing things even too stupid for me to print.  But we all do it, don't we?  Act like weirdos and talk baby talk to our pets/kids/I don't know who else--when nobody's around.  Once the window was open when I was doing it and I didn't know it.  Sure I felt dumb, but at least I wasn't screaming my head off at somebody like an insane maniac, because I never do that.

For years I wouldn't get a dog even though the kids wanted one more than anything in the world, of course.  I thought a dog would be a major pain, wreck everything, be disgusting, and also I seriously doubted my ability as a dog owner based on my performance in the past. (I have had two previous dogs and neither time did it go well.)  But I have been pleasantly surprised.  A huge help is that my son has taken on most of the responsibility for the dog, well at least 65%.  Plus, my husband gives her a bath once every week or so--outside with the hose--Don't worry, we live in a warm climate.  He does this because she truly is Shtinky about that often.

Anyway, we had to get a dog when we moved here.  It was the only consolation I could offer the kids big enough to overcome some of their sadness at leaving the only home they'd ever known, and their friends.  It wasn't as tricky as I had feared, finding a good dog at a shelter.  It was a bit rough at first, because she had a couple of health scares.  But once we got through it, I thought, "Why didn't we get a dog a long time ago?"  And I am pleased to find that being old gives me the advantage of having a lot more patience than I did with the last dog.  So things are going well, and she is a real joy.  Silly, funny, cute, eager-to-please, warm, playful, Wittow Sandy Gowow.

Speechless

I did not write a single blog entry in 2016.  You could say I was speechless.  It was a year of learning hard things.  I did not feel qualified to say anything about anything.  But now I am writing again, for me, for fun.

Pretty much all of last year was taken up with us moving across the country, from Illinois--where we had lived our whole lives--to Texas.  It took all year because there were job interviews (for Ron), visits, and waiting for the right time for Ron to resign from his old job.  Then there was getting the house ready, selling it, trying to find somewhere to live, actually moving--at first to temporary housing--and then finally to the new house.

But then it turned into a nightmare as the house we bought needed a lot of work, something we had not counted on.  So basically we have spent every spare minute, dollar, and bit of energy since then dealing with fixing up the place. Not what we had planned.  So that was 2016.


I am ready for a new year.  And I have learned something important.  I have to not care about money anymore.




Labor not to be rich: cease from thine own wisdom. --Proverbs 23:4

But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.  --1Timothy 6:9

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.  --Proverbs 3:5-6

Flexible Flyer

Flexible Flyer was the name of a sled I once had.  It came to mind as I gave a new-to-homeschooling mom my standard advice: "Be flexible."  Flexibility is the beauty of homeschooling.  Someone else asked me about homeschooling yesterday--when we start and finish--and I said, "Everyone is different."  How nice is that?  Whatever works, and that can change as needed.

Rigidity is probably the worst thing for our homeschool.  I've even seen "unschoolers" who can become rigid in their unschooling.  In my mind, it is more "free" to be able to impose structure, when necessary, than to be so dedicated to being "radical" that you can't do something different.  Any ideology can become paralyzing, if you let it.

I don't homeschool to fit within a group or philosophy.  I do it for many reasons, but mainly because I love being with my kids, meeting them where they're at, and going from there.  I'll admit there are times when it's hard--when we disagree.  Then I have to decide if we are going in the wrong direction or not.  I have tossed out many lesson plans and curricula over the years.  We have also had our "buckle down" times, feeling greatly accomplished when we get through it.  It is truly a "one day at a time" thing.

And while we're on 12-step slogans, let's not forget this one: ego = "edging God out."  If I am not careful it is extremely easy to do this.  Homeschooling, like anything else in life, is a situation where God is present.  There are wonderful moments when a new bird comes into the yard, or we discover something unexpectedly.  Sometimes things just fall into place and we get sidetracked, learning all the lyrics to the "Erie Canal" song.  That is the "flying" part in my Flexible Flyer analogy. That is homeschooling at its best.  But it won't happen if I don't let it.

What I've been up to lately

We were at my mother-in-law's briefly this weekend.  She had a lot of old photos out, as she often does.  As I skimmed through a pile of familiar faces, I ran across a couple not-so-familiar.  It was Ron and me when we were very young, in our early twenties.  At first I almost didn't recognize us. 

I had never before seen this photo of the two of us.  We had bright eyes, whitish teeth, red lips, dark hair.  We looked happy.  Seeing those young, fresh, colorful versions of us really took me aback.  It has been a long thirty years since then.

It pricked my conscience, seeing Ron so full of life, and looking quite handsome.  Lately he has been pretty sapped.  We both have.  Like the couple in that picture, we still have the deep-down desire sometimes to do something crazy.  But our latest attempt hasn't panned out. And unlike the young us, we feel that we are running out of time.

Marriage is ironic because you join your life with someone you want to spend most of your time with.  Then you both go off in your separate directions and spend most of your time apart, because of work.  I wrote about this a long time ago, saying how I wished that Ron and I could work together.

Well, recently we decided to try something different.  We thought maybe we could be houseparents for needy children.  We even thought maybe God wanted us to do that.  We could do it as a family.  We could serve God and serve others and work together.  It seemed like a wonderful idea.

So we visited some children's homes.  We filled out applications, went on interviews, traveled to four states, met a lot of good people, and saw a whole new world.  We really wanted to do it.  But it turned out the only place we wanted to go, we could not.  And that was extremely hard. 

So now I'm thinking about Ron and me, and how I can be a better wife and mother, serve God and serve others, and do the best I can here.  But we still have to slog through this disappointment.  And I don't like feeling this way.