Thankful

Gotta Be Thankful for What You Got

Not Quite the Lotto

I completed most of my Thanksgiving grocery shopping today.  I say most because as I was checking out, I realized that I had forgotten to pick up the turkey.  "The turkey?" you say - "She forgot the turkey?!" 

Yes, I forgot the turkey.  But guess what?  As the register receipt printed out, the cashier said, "Oh look!  You've earned a free turkey!"

I'VE EARNED A FREE TURKEY!  And that's better than millions in the lotto anyway because Illinois isn't paying.  And what would I do with all that money?  Just buy a bigger turkey.

Happy (almost) Thanksgiving!

The Rellim Boys

Mr. Rellim has two brothers.  There are six boys (so far) in the next generation.  This is a snapshot from the recent baptism of the youngest, Crew Axel.  His big brother, Cole is attempting to escape Uncle Mike's arms.  His bigger brother, Clay is hiding his face - embarrassed from nearly burning down the church, I think.  But maybe the Priest should have thought better of allowing two busy boys to bounce around  a large burning candle on a precarious perch.

Just as a point of reference, our son, Quinn is standing in the back and up a step.  He looks like a little dinky boy.  But guess what?  He is 6' 1" and weighs 200 pounds.  These boys eat a lot of pork chops.

Peter Pan

My friend's daughter is volunteering at an orphanage in China for a year following completion of her undergraduate degree in Communication Disorders and Sciences.  One of her jobs is to teach English to the children since most of the adoptive families speak English.  An orphan who speaks some English is more "marketable."  Yet not all children have been adopted into families by the age the Chinese government has determined the orphan must be "released."  That age is 14.  Fourteen.

Pan Pan is one of the boys in the orphanage who will soon turn 14.  The English workers call him Peter Pan.  He plays three instruments.  He speaks a little English.  He has not yet been adopted.  He is blind.  Unless he finds a forever family, he will be "released," likely to beg on the streets for his meals.  Winter is coming.

My friend's daughter asked if we would pray for Pan Pan and for his forever family.  Perhaps he will not have an earthly forever family.  And there are so many more stories like his in China - and around the world.  My heart breaks for them.

I also think about my own son.  Had he been born to different parents in a country like China his story would have been much different.  So I'll pray for Pan Pan and I'll thank God for my country and my family.

Twenty Years Old

I bought a new pair of jeans - the stretchy, leggings-like jeans.  But I got the kind with a higher waist that allows me to sit and stand without advertising my underwear.  I wore these jeans to a professional meeting a couple weeks ago.  Feeling a bit self-conscious, I asked a colleague, "How do these look?  I'm not trying to look twenty years old or anything . . ."

"Don't worry," she said, "you don't look twenty years old."

"Ummm . . . thanks?"

Not the PC Type

My friend, Steve complained of my lack of blog posts and told me, "You're slipping, Kurth!"  Well, I've worked to remediate that today.  Here goes:

My parents are staying with my sister's four-year-old daughter in her new home while my sister is away on business.  I talked to Dad yesterday, who told me about this game he and my niece, Evelyn play called "Where in the World?"  Basically, they "travel" to different windows or corners or balconies in the home and pretend they are in different countries. Evelyn guesses what country they are in based on my Dad's accent and what they will be doing while in that country.

In Evelyn's favorite country, my Dad reportedly says, "Hola, chica!  Let's eat rice and beans then go to America where we can get everything for free."

Just reporting the news here.

Shower Beer

It's been a busy week.  Perhaps I've been a little grumpy with my family.  Perhaps.

When I finally started to relax in a hot shower, Mr. Rellim popped his head in and said, "I've got something for you."

"No, thank you!" I said, a bit grumpily.  A bit.

He laughed, then handed me a cold beer.  "It's a 'shower beer,' explained Mr. Rellim, "Haven't you ever had a shower beer before?"

I had not.  But now that I have, I'm wondering if eBay sells any shower cup holders.

Trojan Up!

That's the rally cry for our High School - CHS Trojans.  And tonight is the Homecoming game, but Quinn decided to work instead.  "I went to a football game last year," he said, "and the only thing that happened is some girl started social stalking me and thought she was my girlfriend!"

"Well, wouldn't you like to have a girlfriend?" I asked.

"No way!" Quinn shouted, "First, it's fun and nice, then you are supposed to sit and listen to her talk for hours and return texts at all hours of the day and night.  The next thing you know, you're running an errand to Wal-Mart to pick up tampons!"

How Far South?

In the continuing series:  "How Far South Do I Live?" we report on a First Grade teacher introducing the "wh" questions words to her class (who, what, where, when, how, why).   She has each word written on a flashcard and asks the class to repeat the word after her then create a sentence with that word.  For example, when shown the flashcard "why," a student volunteered, "Why are we at school?"

Correct.

When shown the flashcard "when," a student volunteered, "Did you win the game?"

"Well," replied the teacher, "that is one meaning for /wIn/.  We are talking about the other kind of /wIn/."

The other kind of /wIn/?  How far south do I live?

Beds

Two Kindergarten students on two separate occasions described their sleeping arrangements in their home.  One boy told me (amidst moderate stuttering), "I sleep next to my step-brother's bed in a sleeping bag.  If he sleeps somewhere else, then I can sleep in his bed."  A little girl from another family attempted to describe the chair that she sleeps in.  I thought it might be a recliner.  But she didn't understand the word "recliner" and she also gave me a funny look when I attempted to demonstrate how a chair can recline.

And I'm disappointed in the nap of my carpet.

Go, Illini!

Mr. Rellim and I met my dad in Champaign last night for the opening game of the football season.  Just as we arrived, a severe storm blew in, trapping us in football purgatory.  Stadium staff would not let us stand outside the doors and would not let us take our seats.  We were corralled like cattle, restricted to wandering in the concession/souvenir areas for nearly three hours.

Not one to give up on a live game, we could not convince Mr. Rellim to leave when the storm finally ended.  To keep our spirits up, Mike said, "The game will start soon. See all those people running to their cars?  They will be re-drunk soon and we will have fun!

The other great thing was when we received an impromptu personal serenade by The Other Guys.

 

Krispy Kreme Doughnuts

A local group had about 200 boxes of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts leftover following a fundraiser last Saturday.  Quinn came home with a box on Thursday.  He was pretty excited because he had offered the group $5 for the box.  Instead the group's leader gave it to him for free. 

Why?  "Because," explained Quinn, "the boxes had been 'improperly' stored."

I nearly gagged.  He smiled because he had eaten four doughnuts before I threw out the rest.

Food Editing

Rachel is at school.  Quinn is at work.  Mike and I didn't feel like cooking.  But we do get a kick out of calling the restaurant where Quinn works and ordering for home delivery.  I ordered a Philly Cheese Steak and onion rings.  (I learned the hard way that the Italian Beef is not the same sandwich.)  Mike ordered a DoubleDog and Waffle Fries.  The DoubleDog comes with a small bag of potato chips.

When Quinn arrived with our delivery, he announced, "That will be $16.25.  By the way, I ate your chips."

What?!  I asked him if he ate other customers' chips too.  "No," he replied, "only yours.  You don't need them anyway.  You got waffle fries."

Mike gave him a tip anyway.  And I laughed.

Sisters Three

I was home taking care of post-op Quinn (He's doing very well, by the way.), while my sisters had a good time at a county fair and sent me a snapshot.  I guess we all do look a little alike.

45

It's going OK.  But I do have some observations to make about this new age:

1.  Ten o'clock pm is getting stinking late.  Rachel walked out the door on Friday night at 9:00 pm and said, "Don't worry, I'll be home early."  I just stared at her with a dumbfound look on my face.

2.  There are definitely more "sparkles" in my hair.  My dad teased me about it one day.  I don't think he realizes that my three younger sisters color their hair.  I'm too frugal to bother right now.

3.  I understand why old people insist on sleeping in their own beds.  Who doesn't like her own pillow best?

4.  I hurt my knee while washing dishes tonight.  What the?!  Too much twist when rinsing?!  I had to go scrounge up a compression sleeve from Rachel's room.  I can't believe I found it.

5.  A poem came to mind the other day that ends, "Quiet down, cobwebs.  Dust, go to sleep.  I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep."  My baby is beginning her second year at college.  She forgot to pack her pillow.  Luckily, it doesn't matter so much to her at 19.

Senior Snapshot

Quinn had a few photos taken before his senior year starts.  We are off to St. Louis for a septorhinoplasty and lip scar revision.  In a week or so, he should be able to breathe from both nostrils.  In a few months, he should have a great lip contour with a smaller lip scar.

"Remember my face!" he told his sister as she left for work this morning.

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?"