my cup runneth over

Lynmarie took the kids to the aquarium today with a friend and her kids. On the trip there the baby had to pee so Lynmarie, the nurse, held a cup from the drive-thru strategically so as to catch the pee.

Tonight after diner, Mikaela comes up to me with a cup. I say thank you but notice it's wet on the outside. I also notice that there is an interesting color and aroma to it.

We have a new rule in our house.

For now . . .

why I can't get to church today

This is a story that happened about a year and a half ago. I shared it with a few people then. I just thought about it and I realized that I have a sworn duty here to torture you with it . . .

Kaitlyn decided that she wanted a yogurt from the refrigerator. After getting and eating a spoon full of it she decided she didn't like it. The baby found it where she left it and decided that as well as making a fine hair gel, it also had potential as a wall finish. She then "painted" everything in a six foot radius. I'm cleaning up after the paint crew and I hear David in the next room. As a home study paleontologist, David has a thesis about the sounds of various dinosaurs. He is demonstrating his body of work at an alarming volume. This is causing the girls to scream at a pitch so high that dogs are barking all over town and dairy cows in the next county have gone "dry". As I run to rinse the sponge from the "vat-o-paint" clean-up, I step on a toy that is so blunt it should just be called a ball, but still managed to puncture my foot right near my big toe. So I am running with a yogurt soaked sponge to tell David to "shut up" while walking on one heel. It is then that I see that Kaitlyn left the refrigerator door open. It's only 8:30. am. On a Sunday morning.

For now . . .

Give me a B and I'll flatten it

Music and song is one of the most powerful mediums. If I could pick something to do for my work, it would be song writer. I love to see someone sit down and pen words and then set those words to music. The combination of the two can stir such emotion. Add to the mix the talent to be able to take words and music and turn them into two and three part harmony . . .I'm all goose bumps just thinking about it.

There is a song by Diamond Rio "One More Day" where the harmony is tremendous. The just of the song is what a man would do if he had one more day with his woman. Fantastic.

"Last night I had a crazy dream.
A wish was granted just for me,
It could be for anything.
I didn't ask for money
or a mansion in Malibu
I simply wished for one more day with you."

"One more day, one more time.
One more sunset maybe I'd be satisfied.
But then again, I know what it would do,
Leave me wishing still for one more day with you."

What a great love song. What wonderful imagery. It takes you to moments in time where you have felt that way but could not put it to words, let alone music.

There is another love song that has caught my attention lately. It is by a christian recording band called "Casting Crowns". This song hit me hard the first time I heard it. It speaks of God reaching out to us. . . and what our response should be. "Who am I"

"Not because of who I am, but because of what you've done.
Not because of what I've done, but because of who you are.

"I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind.
Still you hear me when I'm calling,
Lord you catch me when I'm falling,
And you've told me who I am, I am Yours, I am Yours."

I find it so overwhelming that God reveals Himself to us in our lost condition. In a culture where identity is so important, God tells us who we are. . . we are His.

Love songs. I only want to write one. I don't care if it's heard by many. I just want to be able to once put it out there in such a powerful way.

For now . . .

Best man

Timothy L. Maret

I met Tim in the summer of 1979 when we arrived at soccer camp at college. He thought I was a little girly man. How do I know this? Because he told me. Not in those words exactly but I got the point. But soon we would be roommates. Tim took on the name "Murry" or "Mur" to his friends around our sophmore year. It was a combination of us goofing on his name, Maret (sounds like chevrolet) and him waking in the morning and just grunting out "murrrr". And he's a hairy guy; manly hairy (furry . . .murry). It's one of those things that stuck and his wife and parents call him that on occasion.

Mur and I have always been close. We agree about 95 percent of the time on various issues; politics, education, work, God. Just about every thing. The other 5 percent, I just smack him around about.

We were best men at each others weddings. We have children (him a daughter and me a son) the same age. We are good friends. Mur is one of those friends who will tell you when you are a fool. You always know right where you are with him. He is my friend. He is who I go to to hear the truth and seek advice. Not too many people like that in my life.

Well, Mur is moving south. He and Denice have purchased a house in North Carolina and they will be gone from this wasteland next month. Part of me is sad. Another part of me is very happy for them. I know that the miles will never keep our friendship apart and that we will just pick up where we left off at our last encounter. Plus I now have a place to stay for free overnight when we go to Florida.

I love you, Mur! I thank God for you being my "best man" and great friend. God bless you and yours.


For now . . .

tap, tap, thud

So . . . I'm at work and pounding nails, and cutting boards and all. All is well with the universe.

I have to install a joist hanger to carry the load of a ceiling joist. That's the board thingie that is in the ceiling that the drywall thingie is stuck to. This joist is very close to the wall and there is not a lot of room with which to work. To get the nails in I have to hold the nail between my index and middle finger in a cigarette fashion. I am about to pound it home when a voice goes off in my head. Whom ever it was, he is lonely and it echos in there.

He says "If you miss . . . you're going to smack your fingers very hard. The space to swing is very limited and you're not that great at hammering. That's why they call you "lightning" with a hammer. . . you never hit the same place twice. He then laughs and I think I heard a rim-shot and him mentioning something about tipping your waiter. OK two things. First, this guy has a lot of nerve calling my carpentry skills into question. Secondly, he's not that funny.

What is interesting is that I can remember hearing this guy many times in the past. Once when I was going to get into a boat that was just a little too far from the dock. "Nice one" he says. Then once when I was going to ride my bike off the retaining wall to a perfect landing. "You look good as a scab" he chortles. Then there was the physics lesson about equal and opposite reactions. Hitting a car tire with a bat and having it come "back-at-ya" so fast you can't get your head out of the way. All he could say then was "I've heard of a double chin before but a double forehead . . .". And then he holds his sides like they hurt and he can't breath.

And so I continue with the maneuver.

I'm told that they will stop throbbing when the pressure in the blood blister under the nail either pops or all the excess fluid finally clears.

"Oh, knock it off. You're not that funny".

For now . . .

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit

Yesterday was Sunday. Our church had a picnic at a lake and several people were baptized.

What is that? you ask

It's where you make a meal at home but pack it up to be consumed outdoors.

Oh! You meant baptism.

We believe in full immersion in water. It happens like this. Our pastor will stand with a candidate in waist deep water. He will ask a few questions pertinent to the occasion and then "dip" the person back into the water in a way very similar to a dip while dancing.

Why does one do such a thing?

Well, it's romantic and the music takes over . . . oh! right baptism.

Well we do not feel that this act does anything other than to symbolize the death to our sinful nature (the dip into the water) and the resurrection to a life devoted to following the teachings of Christ. This does not take away sin but is a public declarative telling those who witness the act that they are serious about their devotion to God and his son, Jesus Christ.

It was a big day for our pastor who was able to baptize two of his children. All in all, a very good time to praise God and enjoy the company of each other. Very hot though. Too hot.

The first time I was witness to a baptism was when I was very young. When I saw the pastor in the water with his clothes on I asked if his mother knew he was in there dressed.

For now . . .

potty training

As soon as we see that one of our wee ones is waking up with a dry diaper (i.e. sans wee), we begin potty training. Now mind you if you gather ten couples for a diner party and ask how to potty train, you will get 35 answers. If you can't follow the math there it's because I'm basically stupid. I have to get naked to count to twenty one.

My point is there is no answer. Try what you think is best and hope for the best. Here is what we do.

OK . . . dry diaper in the morning. We then take them into the bathroom upon waking and sit them there until they pee. Then we all dance around like morons and tell them how big they are. "Who is so big today?" "Wow, your are so very big". "Did you grow big last night?". And then . . . dramatic pause . . . key music (dun dun dunnnnn) . . . we give them M & M's. Every time they do that voodoo that they do do (tee hee : do do), it's chocolate, covered with a candy shell. An incentive program.

For my son there was also Cheerios dropped into the toilet to have something to aim at. Aim is important. We have had the discussion about sitting unless there is a urinal. Brainless. No thinking about hitting the bulls-eye in the moment of necessity. And then you never have to deal with the seat up thingie.

Mikaela is two months shy of 2 and a half. She is now wearing big girl underwear. We put a diaper on her at night just in case but she is well on her way to being "big".

I have been waiting for the day when we no longer have to buy diapers for so long. I'm giddy.

excuse me . . . I got excited and I got to go pee.

For now . . .

it's big, no?

We were fortunate to be given a chest freezer. Free. No cost. Nada. You know, with the new house and all, a thing like that will come in handy. We are thankful.

I went to pick it up late last night so I left it on the truck. Then this morning, I just took it to work. When asked by everyone what I was doing with a chest freezer on my truck, I just said it was my lunch box. Hah!

For now . . .