New Glasses

Quinn needed a new prescription, but didn't want new frames.  I pleaded with him to try on a few pairs just to check them out.  He finally relented and chose these.  Unfortunately, I would have been better off avoiding the confrontation and saving $350, but he is handsome.  And these "nerd" glasses are back in style.

VBS

A few years ago our church opted out of the traditional Vacation Bible School and began an all-day program that lasted a couple weeks.  I was hesitant to volunteer because, well, it was all day.  And last week as I attempted to corral, entertain and teach 19 grade-schoolers, I tended to complain quite a bit.  Maybe it was because the middle school helpers were more trouble than help.  Maybe it was because I had to take a kid to the ER after he broke his clavicle playing a game on my watch.  Maybe it was because the music was entirely too loud.  Maybe I was just being grumpy because things didn't always go my way.

Then it was the last day of camp, and it was my turn to teach the lesson to the combined group of approximately 100 kids, ages four through 13.  The lesson was about how Paul was committed to God and committed to sharing the good news about Jesus.  I got a little preachy with the kids.  In examples they could understand, I challenged them to put God first - before sports or video games or even Frozen songs.  Then I invited them to come forward if they would like to commit themselves to Jesus.  I think about 80 kids started walking toward me!  Now, I realize these kids weren't all "new" commitments, but I was still shocked at the number.  Mostly because I have never seen anyone accept a "live" altar call at this church.

So the moral of the story is God is good and works wonders amidst chaos.

Goodbye, Good Buy.

I bought a kitchen table at an auction a few weeks ago for only $15.  It was an oval-shaped solid pecan with Queen Anne legs and an extra leaf.  But it was a little too big for my space.  I realized this after I woke up Quinn and called over one of his friends to move it into the house.  Then I had them move it out of the house.  Then I borrowed a truck to haul it to the consignment shop.  I did get $40 for it.

And the best part of the day was when the three of us climbed into the old truck and Quinn made his friend sit in the middle.  His friend was determined (and I repeat) - was absolutely determined not to accidentally touch me on the way home.  Instead, he kept leaning toward Quinn, who kept shouting at his friend to quit touching him.  And the shouts just drew more attention to the mom driving the 1970 pickup with two seventeen-year-old boys sharing the front seat.  Because no one was really sitting in the middle.

Solution: Lock the Door

Last night's dinner conversation began with a question from Rachel to her brother:  "Why don't you put your underwear on first when you're getting dressed?"

Thank You, Mrs. Jackson

President Andrew Jackson built a beautiful home in Nashville, Tennessee.  I was partial to his wife's addition to the property - Rachel's Garden.

Fist Bump

Why travel to Greece, when you can explore a full-size replica of the Parthenon right here in the USA?  And raise your hand if you've ever had the privilege of fist-bumping a gargoyle?

Hello, I'm Johnny Cash

Just a snapshot from the Johnny Cash museum today. It reminded Mr. Rellim of a near- incident at the World Pork Expo in June.  I'll have to get more details...

America

My husband loves me so much that he took me to see Dinesh D'souza on our wedding anniversary.  Romantic, huh?

  And now I have a new (signed) book to read:

To top off the day, we spent time with friends we haven't seen in years.

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Rellim!

The Pink Box

"Where is the pink box?" asked my four-year-old niece, Evelyn.

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied my sister.  "Tell me more."

"I got it for a present from Quinn and Rachel's house," explained Evelyn.

"You'll have to describe it to me," insisted her mother.

"Well," said Evelyn, "he is tall and has brown hair and lives at Aunt Marcie's house."

"I know who Quinn is," laughed my sister.

Still, the Dog

Quinn perforated his ear drum a few days ago while diving at the local pool.  It was the first time he had dove (dived?)  been diving in a few years.  The visit to the ENT was the first in eight years and we started an antibiotic ear drop and began the waiting game.  (Heal, ear!  Heal!)  His hearing is only mildly affected, but he still complains he can't hear me - unless I'm calling him to eat.

While talking about the protocol for keeping water out of his ear, Quinn leaned back on his bed and made dramatic sweeping gestures while lamenting, "Why is my life so cursed - bad ears, asthma, face scar, allergies?  My life is so sad!"

"How is your life so sad?" I asked.

Quinn quickly replied, "Do you see a dog sleeping here at the foot of my bed?"

The boy really wants a dog.

Dumb Ways to Die

I turned on the garbage disposal and swished my hand around the sink to push the little food bits into the hole.  While doing so, my forearm hit a metal spatula resting precariously on the side of the sink.  It fell into the garbage disposal handle-first, then quickly shot out and stabbed me near the top of my diaphragm. 

No blood was spilled, but I now have a healthy fear of the minor appliance and try to keep the area around the sink clear of sharps.