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.

I Really Don't Get It

"Today's decree," Justice Antonin Scalia fumes, "says that my Ruler, and the Ruler of 320 million Americans coast-to-coast, is a majority of the nine lawyers on the Supreme Court. The opinion in these cases is the furthest extension in fact... This practice of constitutional revision by an unelected committee of nine, always accompanied (as it is today) by extravagant praise of liberty, robs the People of the most important liberty they asserted in the Declaration of Independence and won in the Revolution of 1776: the freedom to govern themselves." Chief Justice John Roberts agreed, noting with poignancy, "If you are among the many Americans -- of whatever sexual orientation! -- who favor expanding same-sex marriage, by all means celebrate today's decision. Celebrate the achievement of a desired goal. Celebrate the opportunity for a new expression of commitment to a partner. Celebrate the availability of new benefits. But do not celebrate the Constitution. It had nothing to do with it."

And I don't understand how this is an issue of civil rights.  I see it as a straightforward redefinition of a centuries-old partnership in order to be included in the benefits reaped therein.  What is the next term to be redefined - oh wait!  That happened Thursday when the Justices decided "state" can mean "State and Federal Government."

Apology Tour - Rellim Style

I woke up Quinn Saturday morning at 11:30, then called him again every five minutes until about noon.  I needed his help with something outside.  Finally, finally, he emerged from his room and came outside and began shouting about how rude it was to wake up a growing teenager and how unprepared I was to have not scheduled this favor with him the day before.

Mr. Rellim and I loaded him and his big mouth into the car and ran the errand.  Then Quinn was escorted around the neighborhood by his father to make a personal apology to each person he frightened with his rude and disrespectful outburst toward his mother.  I love that man I married.

Time for a Nap

Need a reality TV show?  You should have followed my mom, Rachel and me the last two days on our St. Louis outing.  Mom napped while sitting up straight a few times and I wondered how she could be sleepy enough to manage such snooze snippets, then I shared a room with her and Rachel for a couple nights.  When the air conditioner wasn't loudly blowing icy air at my head, it was making a "Grrrr-Chunk!" sound to turn on or off.  When Mom started snoring, Rachel would shout, "Grandma!  You're snoring!" - or just whistle loudly in the direction of her bed.  When Mom wasn't snoring, I poked her to make sure she was still breathing.  When Rachel and I were both asleep, Mom would comment loudly about how hot it was, or how cold it was, or how loud the air conditioner was or ponder why she couldn't get to sleep.

When Mom and I tried to watch a movie, Rachel insisted that she needed the TV off to get to sleep.  When we reluctantly turned off the show, Rachel promptly got out of bed, turned on a light and started eating Doritos.  When I turned the TV back on, Mom quickly fell asleep and started snoring, which somehow interfered with Rachel's snacking and texting (now that she had given up on trying to sleep).  When Rachel decided to sit in the hotel hallway in her PJs to get away from such annoying roommates, Mom woke up to the sounds of "drunk underage baseball players coming down the hall*+" and went out in her PJs to convince Rachel to come back in the room. 

I'm home now and starting a late lunch for Quinn, who just finished taking his ACT.  Then, time for a nap!

*I have no idea how someone can intuitively know what drunk underage baseball players sound like.
+I imagine I will be regaled with a story some day. 

Happy Birthday, Ginny!

Mike's mom celebrated her 70th birthday this spring with all her grandkids in attendance.  That's eleven so far (with one still "cooking").

Does Anyone Keep Gloves in the Glove Box Anymore?

I had a feeling that answering the following question was not going to be the end of the conversation that Saturday evening at 9:53 p.m. . . .

"Uh, Mom?  I can't find that proof of insurance thing.  I thought it was in the glove box, but it's not."

Grandma Phoebe

I had a vivid picture in my mind of two people running to embrace one another.  It was a black and white 1940s sort of scene.  Five minutes later we received a call telling us that Mike's Grandma Phoebe had passed just a few minutes earlier.  She would have been 97 years old in August.  I smile when I remember her because she was a good woman - an optimistic lady - who lived a good, long life.

Nobody's gonna smile when they think of me trying to sing a well-known hymn (When We Meet Again) at her funeral.  Mostly at funerals I just try to breath.  At Grandma Phoebe's I tried to sing, but made it about four bars before my voice broke.  Rachel walked up to sing with me, so I tried taking the alto part since the high notes were not working so well.  "Actually," Rachel told me, "the alto notes weren't working so well for you either."  I guess I'll just stick to breathing at the next funeral. 

Here she is on the occasion of her 95th birthday with her son, Terry.

Sunday Evening Ramblings

1.  "The problem with society is that we keep giving woman what they think they want (referring to careers outside of the home)," mused the younger Mr. Relim.  Perhaps I let him watch a little too much Dick VanDyke Show.  Or perhaps he's right.  He just needs to clear that plan with his wife when the time comes.

2.   We might need to call the repairman.  The garage refrigerator is not working properly.  Since Rachel came home from college, the appliance keeps making the vodka evaporate.

3.  I wonder how my life would be different if my Third grade teacher (circa 1978) hadn't asked me to revise my statement about what I wanted to do when I grew up.  Initially I had written, "When I grow up I want to be a mom."  I remember her telling me that wasn't an acceptable answer.  She told me that I had to be something.  I was a sharp student, but I struggled with her request and finally settled on "teacher."  She thought that was something.  But I really wanted to be a mom.

4.  I wonder how my life would be different if I had completed the application to work toward my Ph.D.  I remember calling a friend who was getting his Ph.D. while working full time and commuting 50 miles each way for evening classes.  I asked him, "Do you think I could do it?"  He said, "Yes, I think you could do it, but that's not the question I think you should be asking.  You should be asking, 'Will it be worth giving up all that time with my family?'"  And that was some wise advice.

String Theory

Mike bought six-ounce, bacon-wrapped beef fillets for Mother's Day.  (Yum)  Half-way through eating his steak, Quinn asked, "Why is there string around this half of my steak?"

"Boy," said, Mr. Rellim, "there was string around your entire steak.  You just ate it."

After lunch, Quinn got up from the table to eat a big bowl of ice cream.  Fancy food is  lost on teenage boys.  It's quantity over quality all day long.

Hello, Blogdom

It's been a while, but it's not because I haven't been thinking about you.  It's because the stories that amaze, confuse and annoy me about my family are likely to be read by them, and unless I can spin it in a humorous fashion, they are best not written.

I'm considering enacting a rule about how many times a styrofoam cup from the gas station can be re-used.  Also, should a mother allow her son to receive an unexcused "tardy" when he consistently oversleeps for Monday morning dual-credit Trigonometry class?  And what to do about the adult-ling daughter who will be living at home this summer?  These topics and more as the school year ends.

In closing, a funny thing happened with a Kindergarten student the other day:  He was looking at a picture of a sword with a handle shaped like a cross and said, "Look!  It's a "T" for Jesus!"