Lance Left for Japan

We drove down to Charleston today to see Lance off to Japan. Met him, Sarah and Sherri at the airport. It was sad, but hopefully he'll be able to come home this summer. He is so grown up now. I can't imagine not seeing him for over a year.

Went Shopping with Lance

Lance came up for a few days. We went to meet Jeff for lunch at the Thai restaurant then headed up to Gaffney to go shopping. We picked out a pair of tennis shoes for Jeff then got some new shirts and pants for Lance to take to Japan. We had a dinner at church this evening that we had planned a long time ago, so Lance went with us. Had a good evening just being able to talk.

Kids Here this Week-End

Lance, Sarah and two of their friends went to the Clemson game on Saturday then stopped back at our house today. I love having them and their friends around. We all sat out on the swing and chairs in the front. They are the greatest kids. We are so lucky!

No Chickens

Jeff said the one thing we can't get is chickens, but it seems they have gotten us. Down by the creek bank we have a family of orange and black chickens. They live in the trees and peck around on the ground when Sadie isn't in sight. Today I'm off to the feed store to get some cracked corn for them and the deer. I guess Jeff will be okay with that as long as they stay down by the creek and don't decide to take up residence in our front yard (like the neighbors down the road).

Yesterday an 8 point buck ran in front of us as we were on our way to dinner and last week I saw Skipper alertly eyeing something down near the creek. He's the leader of the herd (now 4 horses, I'm keeping two for a friend) and is on constant look out for anything that might endanger his entourage. With his companions unaware of the danger he watched the two deer and one spring baby make their way across the open area into the woods. I love horses...they fear everything that moves...and everything that doesn't.

Claytor Lake 10th Anniversary 2007

Lake Week is the end of summer vacation Jeff and I look forward to every year. And this year was the 10th anniversary of Lake Week with the Nuszkiwics’s. Every year Ray and Karen rent a house (Betty’s Folly) on Claytor Lake in western Virginia the week before Labor Day week-end. In that part of Virginia the kids are back at school and for the most part we have the lake to ourselves. It’s a wonderful place to relax for a week. The house is right on the lake with a boat dock in the back yard for the Joanie Belle. The house has three bedrooms, two baths, and a large screened in porch that overlooks the lake. The yard is huge with a patio that stretches the whole width of the house.

This year there a great crowd to celebrated the 10th anniversary. Ray, Karen, Brian and their doggie Keeshia. Colleen (Ray’s sister) and her partner Tina were able to come from Arizona. Susan and Tony brought their daughter Gina and her partner Kate and their doggie Connely. Jeff and I came of course with Sadie. Lance came up for a few days as he started his 30 day leave from the Navy.

Jeff and I brought our tent this year, we thought it would be no problem for us to sleep in the tent on blow up mattresses. We had barely gotten the tent up on Saturday afternoon when the most horrendous storm blew in across the lake. The wind must have been 40-50 miles/hours. For over an hour the rain and wind beat up the tent and eventually flattened it. We ended up putting our blow up mattresses on the screened in porch. We tried the tent the next evening and Sadie kept us up all night. She was certain the boogy man or some critter was outside and spent the whole night getting up and looking out the windows. At one point we thought she was actually going to go through the window. After that we opted for the screened in porch. It was a comfortable, cool place to sleep.

Sunday August 26th was the big family/friend get together. There were at least 40 people there. Karen’s dad Marcel and his wife Kathleen cook most of the food for the traditional gathering on Sunday. They live in a small town about 30 minutes from Claytor Lake. We had perfect weather and spent the day sitting in lawn chairs, eating, water skiing and visiting with people we hadn’t seen since last year.

Once the big get together is over the rest of the week is pretty quiet. Karen always brings a few puzzles and she, Susan, and I have a tendency to get totally focused on working them. All three of us love to read and so it is not unusual to find all of us sitting together out on the patio, noses in books, perfectly contented. Ray and Jeff are the boat/cruise directors. Their role is making sure everyone has a great time on the boat and they take their job seriously! They’re at everyone’s beck and call when it’s time to go for a dip in the lake, run to the marina grocery store, or take a turn water skiing. Brian is a born natural when it comes to water sports and every year he has some new wake board tricks in his repertoire.

This year Ray brought up this thing (that’s all I can call it, so a description is probably better). First off three adults can sit in it. It’s like a little blow up boat in the shape of a circle. The sides come up about two feet all the way around. He pulls it behind the big boat with a ski rope. You might think that sounds fun and relaxing to be pulled in a little boat behind a big one. It would be relaxing but the intent is to flip the riders out of the little boat into the bigger lake. Ray zigs and zags the big boat in an “S” shape and that sends the little boat flying across the waves from the wake. Karen, Susan and I decided to give it a try. It was going pretty good at first, actually I think Ray was being easier on us than he is on the teenagers. I don’t even think he saw this coming. It was one of those “in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe the right place at the right time”. We hit a high wake that shot us into the air. When we hit the water all I saw was four legs, spread eagle flying out the back of the little boat. The next wake was a repeat of the first one. One minute I was airborne in the little boat the next minute I joined the girls in the lake.

We played the usual card/board games: Golf, Domino’s, Cribbage, and Poker. This year Lance and Brian showed the adults some new card games. Mind you Lance is 22 and in the Navy, but Brian is still in high school. So we adults wondered how Brian knew the rules to these games so well, considering they were “drinking card games”!

Happy 10th anniversary to Ray and Karen, I hope we get to spend many more lake weeks together.

Cross Country Trail Ride, Eminence, MO

My friend Sherrie and I have been going to the August "Cross Country Trail Ride" (CCTR) held in Eminence MO for over 10 years. After moving to South Carolina I've been able to make it home for the trip occasionally and have gone a total of 6 times. Sherrie's a little ahead of me with 8 trips. We each earned our coveted "5-Year Silver Buckles" and are working on the "10 Year Buckles". We've had such a good time each year that I'm always a little sad in August if it happens to be a year when I can't get back to Missouri for the ride.

I wish over the years I would have written about each of those weeks. They hold some of the special memories of my life. I decided I was definitely going to get some of the moments down on paper from this year’s trip (August 5-11, 2007). Maybe some day I will write about the funny things that happened in the past.

But, first a little about CCTR, CCTR is not trail ride where all the participants get in a long line and follow each other through the woods, though the name sort of implies that. CCTR is actually a 75 acre campground that sits along side the Jack’s Fork River in Eminence, MO. Sherrie and I were able to go to the August 2005 ride which marked CCTR’s 50th year anniversary.

Cross Country Trail Ride Campground


Campground Map

To register for the ride you pay a fee to reserve your camp site (15$), a fee for each horse stall you reserve (15$/stall, we always get four stalls) and a registration fee that is amazingly less than 225$/person for the week. There are about six week long scheduled rides during the year (about one every two months) and a few special 3-4 day rides over the Fourth of July and Labor Day. We’ve always gone to the August ride. There are usually 2,500 to 3,000+ riders in August. It's one of the biggest rides for CCTR, the other being the October Ride.

All your meals are provided, so other than any snacks and drinks for the cooler at your campsite the only food you need to bring is what your horses need. And if you run out they will surely sell you hay, feed and horse bedding in the CCTR Camp Store. The people food is home cooked and served in a huge Mess Hall; breakfast, lunch and dinner. They also have a snack bar for stuff like burgers and fries and a camp restaurant if you want to purchase a meal rather than eat whatever is being served in the Mess Hall. But, the food in the Mess Hall is great and it's always amazing to me that they can serve as many people as they do in such an efficient manner.

You can tent camp or bring a camper. Each campsite has electricity and water. They have around 3000 stalls in multiple barns that are scattered around the campground conveniently located near the campsites. From our campsite we can see our horses hanging their heads out of the stalls watching us. The stalls have easy access to water (need to bring your own hose, though usually the first campers that bring their horses in the barn hook up their hose and we all share it for the week).

Our campsite is #143. We sit at the intersection of six camp roads. From our comfy chairs in front of our tent we see every kind of horse and every kind of rider go by. One of the camp farriers is across the street from us. Everybody calls him Arkansas because that's where he's from. I don't know his full name but he comes over every morning for a cup of our coffee before the Mess Hall opens. We've met lots of friends over the years that camp close to us or keep their horses in our barn. It's always fun to see them again and catch up on what's been going on.

There's an inside riding arena at the camp. During the week events such as barrel racing, kid horse shows, amateur horse shows, and horse sales take place in the evening and you are free to ride your horse in the arena anytime of the day or night. A country western band plays on a stage under the stars every night during the week. You can faintly hear the music from most places in camp. One evening during the August ride there is special entertainment by a prominent Nashville entertainer. We’ve seen George Jones, Joe Diffie, Rhett Akins and Daryle Singletary to name a few.

The horseback riding trails crisscross the Jack’s Fork and Current Rivers in the Ozark Mountains and are accessed from various river crossings and logging roads from the campground. Most of the trails are in the Ozark National Scenic Riverways, Missouri’s largest national park. CCTR sponsors daily organized rides guided by CCTR trail bosses or you are free to venture out on your own. Riding along the rivers and crossing them are experiences every rider should have. The horses like playing in the cold water also. They splash it with their noses or paw at it with their feet and nothing feels better than having your horse flip his wet tail and send a spray of cold water on your back in the hot sun. Every once in awhile you see someone get bucked off in the river which is sort of entertaining if it isn't you.

When the horseback riding is done for the day, there are several beaches along the Jack’s Fork. Tubing down the river from the town of Eminence back to camp is a popular afternoon activity. We have a beach near our campsite. It is about a three city block walk. We used to go inner tubing but this year we decided to just hang out at the beach. Much less hassle than blowing up tubes then finding someone to ride with to Eminence so you can float down.

Sherrie and I came back with the best tans this year than ever. We took our beach chairs out to the middle of the river where there's a shallow place, sat in them and watched the tubers go by. The last day, some guy came up to us and said, "Haven't you two ladies been sitting here all week?" We surely had. It was so hot this year that we got up early to ride and were sitting in the cool river by one every afternoon. We have a little "red-neck" cooler I got for Sherrie this year. It's an insulated tin pail and lid stuck down in a small inner tube. We tie it to the chairs and with something cool to drink we sat there everyday till 4 or 5pm.


CCTR is a great place to vacation if you love horses and riding. The following posts are memorable moments from the August 2007 CCTR.

Casper the Friendly Spook

There is an old saying that the art of horseback riding is keeping a horse between you and the ground. Sherrie gets a gold medal for that!

This year Sherrie brought her beautiful black Quarter Horse Poncho and a sorrel and white Paint, named Red Cloud (who was the nemesis of Skipper and Dakota when he was growing up). When we went on the ride in 2005 she brought the same two horses. She road Poncho and I road Red Cloud. She asked me if I wanted to switch this year and I said no, I'd just ride Red Cloud again. I've known him since he was a baby and he still has that inquisitive personality that we all fell in love with. Boy, am I glad I made that decision!

Poncho (alias Casper) spooked at everything this year. He spooked at his reflection in pick-up trucks, he spooked at little pieces of paper on the ground, he spooked at the same yellow trailer everyday for a week! He got so spooky with his spooking that as we came to bends in the trail he would veer off to the side and crane his neck around the corner to peek down the trail ahead.

Poncho doesn't do "little spooks". He does have one good habit about the whole thing; he faces his fear rather than running away from it. The bad part though is he spooks after he has already passed the fearful object, meaning he does a 180 in order to get a better look at whatever set him off.

I rode most of the trip behind Poncho (for reasons I'll explain later) and I was overcome by pure awe, amazement and admiration whenever I watched Sherrie manage to stay on him. If he had spooked and jumped 8 feet with me, I would have been catapulted another 16 feet through the air.

If you are not familiar with spooking horses let me explain how it all works. A spook is an electrical charge that starts deep in the horses body and develops into a lightening bolt. Then it travels bi-directionally out of his body.... out of his mouth into the butt of the horse in front of him and out of his butt into the mouth of the horse behind him. You have a magnificent chain reaction as this bolt of electricity travels through the whole crowd.

Pity the poor horse in front of a spooker. He doesn't get any visual warning just a shock with a cattle prod from behind. And so Red Cloud and I decided it was best to stay behind Casper. At least we could see him in action before the lightening bolt shot out his butt. As with anything desensitization rules, Red Cloud finally ignored Poncho and came to the conclusion that the horse in front of him was just plum crazy. Red Cloud deflected most of the lightening bolts with a toss of his head.

Notice I said "most of". The last day of the trip we were riding down a trail towards a clearing that is sort of like a wagon wheel where 6 separate trails come to a head. The ever cautious Poncho peered out into the clearing before walking the last few feet. Unbeknownst to him another group of riders were coming down the trail opposite us.

Just like crossing a narrow bridge in the middle of Timbuktu an 18 wheeler always comes along and crosses at the same time. As Poncho walked into the clearing the other horses came off the trail on the opposite side. These were not little lightening bolts. It was an electrical storm that shot bolts from all directions as the horses across from us spooked at Poncho spooking. The clearing was such a mess of electricity that Red Cloud spun around and started to high tail it for home via any other route.

Within minutes all the riders had control of their horses. Everyone managed to keep a horse between them and the ground. We all passed each other in the clearing laughing and shaking our heads at the little electricity generators we were riding.


Poncho (Casper) looking at the Loch Ness Monster.



Opps! The Monster swam off to the right!



Ponchs says, "Get me outta here!"

(Eminence, Cross Country Trail Ride, August 5-11, 2007)

Black Diamond Horse Trails

Cross Country Trail Ride sponsors daily organized rides of varying lengths (half day to full day) during the course of the week. The first couple of years we always went on the organized rides. As the years have gone by we've become more familiar with the miles of trails through the Ozark Mountains crisscrossing the Jack’s Fork and Current Rivers. Now we do a lot of riding on our own and pick out where we want to go each day.

A few years ago a friend of Sherrie’s took us on a ride up a mountainside to a summit that overlooks the horse camp and the rivers. We decided one day to try to find that trail again. We could vaguely remember the name of it and so with our trusty (but barely legible) trail maps we headed off.

We came to a new logging trail that was in the general vicinity of the one we had been on in the prior years. It went up the mountain and so did we. Every 100 yards or so there were metal signs posted to the trees with a picture of a “blue” horse on it. We were happy the Department of Natural Resources (DNR) had finally started marking the trails rather than having someone in the mess hall tell us “you go down the back camp road and at the second turn off turn right then take a left at the tall pine tree that marks the start of the trail head.” (I mean, come on, we’re in a forest there are pine trees everywhere.)

Within 10 minutes we were miserable. Not only was the trail straight up the hill but we disturbed a swarm of horse flies when we were well past the point of no return. They pestered us the rest the way up. It is not much fun to ride horses up a steep incline when they are shaking their heads, prancing, stomping, and kicking their back legs out at the flies.

The view at the top put the misery of the trip behind us. The camp was off to the left and in all other directions we got a beautiful view of the Mark Twain National Forest. Then it was decision time, there were four trails to choose between to get back down. The logging road we came up was not an option. Neither of us could imagine going back down it with all those horse flies. So we opted for the trail that seemed most likely to put us back near the camp.

It was a narrow dirt trail that gently sloped downhill through the trees. In single file Sherrie and Poncho started down in front of me and Red Cloud. We had not gone to far when I looked up and saw the familiar DNR trail sign; except the horse on it was black instead of blue.

“Sherrie, did you see that sign we just passed?” I asked.

“Yeah, the one with the black horse on it? The last trail had a blue horse.”

“Yeah, that one. Have you ever been snow skiing in Colorado?”

“Nope, I’ve never been skiing.”

“Well out there, they mark the difficulty of the ski slopes by the color of the signs, green is easy, blue is moderate and black is reserved for the most difficult slopes. I wonder if the DNR is following the same pattern.”

“Hmm…..it looks good so far,” she said.

“Yep, so far it does.” I had hardly got these words out of my mouth when we came to the rocks. The trail transformed from a dirt path to a dirt path with knobby rocks sticking up all over it. The gentle slope got steeper and the dirt completely disappeared. The trail was just plain rocky stair steps that descended more sharply downhill.

I just kept in mind that the trusty horse I was riding had four legs and he could get down this hill better than I could on two. We slipped and slid; Poncho and Red Cloud kept their noses to the ground picking their way through the sharp turns and rocks. When I looked out over Red Cloud’s shoulders all I could see was the air in front of me. Poncho skidded once over a flat sheet of rock and the friction of his metal shoes sent sparks from under his feet.

We stopped along the way a few times to give the horses a break and if you know me and Sherrie very well you wouldn’t be surprised that we were giggling about the predicament we were in. We have been through just about everything together during the course of our friendship. She is my ultimate moral supporter and even though the circumstances might be horrible it is always calming to hear her distinctive voice, “It’s looking okay, we’re doing okay, we’ll be out of here in no time at all, we’re never doing this again!”

Finally the trails intersection with the main road was visible ahead of us. It was only then that Sherrie said, “Oh my god”. The last 10 feet were straight down with two or more feet between each rocky step.

On the road we dismounted and stretched our spaghetti legs. She said, “We made it! You made it down that last part fine.”

“Yep, I leaned back as far as I could and gave Red Cloud as much rein as I possibly could and shut my eyes.”

“You shut your eyes!”

“Yep, I knew Red Cloud was better off without any interference from me!”

Then we burst into laughter until we were crying!

(Eminence, Cross Country Trail Ride, August 5-11, 2007)

They Say if You've Never Fallen Off a Horse, then You Don't Ride Much!

I said Sherrie earned the gold medal for keeping a horse between herself and the ground this year. I didn’t. We were crossing the river back to camp one morning and Red Cloud started acting up in the middle of the river. He never acts like this in the water and I had no idea what was wrong. Sherrie was behind me and said it looked like he was kicking his back legs out. All I knew was he was lunging for the bank and humping his back up at the same time. He is a huge muscular horse and I knew once he got out of the water odds were I was coming off.

At the river’s edge Red Cloud got his head down and was doing this weird bucking, kicking jig. I tried with all my strength to pull his head back up, but it was a losing battle and the energy underneath me was getting stronger.

I could hear Sherrie in the background offering her moral support, “Get his head up, you’re doing great, hang in there,” as she positioned herself to go after Red Cloud when he got rid of me.

Finally I decided it was better if I had some control of the dismount rather than giving all the control to Red Cloud. I got my right foot out of the stirrup and was trying to swing off when Red Cloud bucked again. My left foot stuck in the other stirrup and I did the splits in the air and landed on my rear end at the water’s edge; left foot still stuck in the stirrup and Red Cloud dancing around. I managed to get unstuck and hold on to the reins at the same time. Needless to say this was in front of about twenty other people getting ready to cross the river. Some old man rode up and said, “Are you hurt or just your pride?” I managed to laugh and say, “I don’t worry about pride anymore.”

We did discover afterwards that Red Cloud was bleeding and had a cut about four inches long on his back leg. Something must have got him in the river, glass, a rock, wire perhaps. It must have stung like the devil. After my legs quit shaking I got back on and we headed back to camp. It was a nice day for the river, soaking my sore rear end and aching legs.

(Eminence, Cross Country Trail Ride, August 5-11, 2007)

Memphis to Kansas City (August 2, 2007)

The clerk at the Hertz counter said, "It's like a car but it's really a truck."

"So it's some sort of SUV thing?"

"Not really."

I didn't recognize the name of the vehicle that was available for pick-up in Memphis and drop off in Kansas City. Hertz didn't have a photo of it in their picture book at the desk.

I headed out in the parking lot as the sun was getting low in the sky. The humidity dripped off the trees along the walk way. I found spot A-37 and there was my... "car that was really a truck". If she had said it looked like Brink's truck with windows all the way around I could have picked it out without any help. I threw my carry-on in the back compartment and climbed up in the front seat thinking "I wonder what people rent this sort of thing?"

I couldn't see past the windshield wipers and had to crawl out and look under the seats to figure out how to scoot them up. I was able to budge it a little and decided to drive the thing around the parking lot for a minute. It was like driving a mini u-haul and if I leaned forward enough I could see the front hood.

I stopped back at the rental desk and asked if they had anything else. The clerk tapped away at her computer, no cars but there was an SUV. With directions to I-55 I headed out of Memphis.

The setting sun cast an golden glow over the Mississippi River. From the height of the bridge her lazy meandering and muddy swirls looked nonthreatening yet yesterday she claimed 13 lives when the I-35W bridge in Minneapolis collapsed. I thought about those people and wondered why them, why that bridge and why not the one I'm driving over right now. Questions no one on earth can ever answer. With tears blurring my eyes and a silent prayer for the families a radio station commemorating the 30th anniversary of Elvis's passing played his rendition of "How Great Thou Art" as I drove off the bridge into Arkansas.

The landscape from Memphis to St. Joseph is defined by beautiful rolling hills, pastures of Angus cattle, swaying corn fields, the golden arches in St. Louis and the dramatic rock walls that border I-70 at the Missouri River bluffs in Columbia. But, the culture of each small region can just as easily be defined by the radio stations. After listening to mostly Elvis tributes, "Heartbreak Hotel", "Love Me Tender" and "Kentucky Rain", the music was mostly blues through Arkansas. At the boot heel of Missouri it changed to country western with a few Christian stations thrown in.

I reached Perryville, MO about 11 pm and it was beginning to feel reminiscent of the Eagles "On a dark desert high way…” except for a few 18 wheelers, “My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim. I had to stop for the night.” I got a room at a Best Western. It wasn't "Hotel California" and I was on the road again at 5am. The music was still a mix of gospel and country western. The small town disc jockeys broadcast the latest obituaries, including name, date of death, time of funeral service and, “Wilma Mae was a teacher at Lee Grade School for 35 years.”

In St. Louis I was finally able to tune in a few rock stations then at Arrowhead Stadium I hit Missouri's home of rock–n-roll, Kansas City. Max and Tanna are still doing the morning show on KY102 (Kansas City's original rock station) and Moffit and Frankie are still there on 101 The Fox (radio home of the Chiefs). I thought these people were old twenty years ago.

Flipping between the two stations I was sure I had been driving backwards in time since renting the car in Memphis. It felt like the summer of 1977. If I had looked over to the passenger seat my old high school friend Susan Davis would have been sitting there with her freckled nose and pretty smile dressed in button fly Levi's and Nike tennis shoes (the ones with the light blue swoosh) as we listened to "Turn the Page" (Bob Seger), then "Dream On" (Areosmith), and "Sultans of Swing" (Dire Straits), followed by more of Lynyrd Skynyrd, Pink Floyd, and the Eagles. Finally I was home!

The Ninth Circle of Hell

Yesterday our local newspaper printed a piece (author not identified) summarizing two new bills designed at protecting the rights of commercial airline passengers. It said, "both bills wisely avoid imposing financial penalties on the airline industry, which would be the legislative equivalent of pushing a drowning man underwater." I laughed so hard that Sadie came running to the couch thinking her momma was having some sort of attack. I yelled to Jeff, "Hey you gotta read this one honey. It says that a trip to the airport is like going to the ninth circle of hell!"

I haven't read much classical literature lately, but I know the reference is to Dante's Inferno. In his poem Dante described various circles of hell. The ninth circle being the last and final
circle; the place where the worst punishments are found. I have new information for the writer of the editorial; Hell has recently completed construction of the new and improved tenth circle for airline passengers and Satan personally invited me to attend the grand opening on my recent trip back home to Missouri.

I will take full responsibility for the one sin I committed in booking my trip to Missouri. I booked a flight that left Charlotte at 5 pm. Any seasoned traveler will tell you to book the earliest flights in the day. You are less apt to be caught in the downward spiral of delays that leave the late afternoon flights teetering on the brink of cancellation.

My flight was delayed 20 minutes out of Charlotte then when we landed in Memphis air traffic control held us outside the gate because another plane had parked in our spot. The flight attendant politely asked that all passengers remain seated and allow those with tight connections to disembark first. I felt like the first leg in a relay race. My seated team mates cheered me on as I sprinted off the plane, "Run fast, you can make it."

As I approached the gate I heard someone yell, "The plane's still here, hurry, hurry!" A jolt of adrenaline shot me past the runner that I had been jockeying with for position since I started the race. The gate area was crammed with 25 red-faced, hypoxic passengers. One brave soul stood at the ticket counter. His chest heaved and his shoulders slumped under the weight of a heavy carry-on. We crowded behind him apprehensively waiting our fate, heaven or hell.

"I'm sorry but the door is closed," said the gate agent nodding her head in the direction of the jet way door.

"No, no! The plane's still here," screamed the condemned, "Open the door, just open the door". If I remembered right all you have to do on earth is turn the doorknob and push, but we had started our descent into Hell and physics are different there. “It’s no wonder they’re all going bankrupt,” I muttered as I joined the other 25 members of the chain gang heading for the ticket desk to be re-booked.

“The 8 am non-stop flight to Kansas City is sold out,” said the ticket clerk.

“When is the next one?” I asked.

“There’s a non-stop flight that leaves around 2 pm.”

“That’s too late, I have someone meeting me in St. Joseph at 4 pm.”

“There’s a 6 am flight, but you have to connect in Detroit, gets in KC around 13:10.”

I calculated the time it would take me to get to St. Joseph, stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a few things I needed, unpack my saddle and re-pack my clothes in Rubbermaid tote boxes before Sherrie picked me up at 4 pm. It would be a close call. If there was one single flight delay I was sunk, but it was possible, “Can you get me a hotel room for tonight?”

“Sorry it’s Elvis Week and all the hotels are booked. I'll give you 125 dollars if you can find a hotel,” she said while tapping away on her keyboard.

I had no desire to find a hotel located on the outskirts of Memphis or to sleep in an airport chair…all on the off chance that a 6 am flight might get to Kansas City on time. I called Jeff back for the third time. He is always thinking ahead and said, “I reserved a car for you at Hertz. It’s an 8 hour drive to Kansas City. If you leave now and stop along the way to get some sleep you can still be home by 10 am.”

The ticket agent handed me a form as I asked for directions to the car rental area, “Fill this out, you might get a refund for the non-used portion of your ticket. Don’t expect to hear anything for at least 6 weeks.”

And so I began my journey out of airport Hell. The drive from Memphis was wonderful and the next post will be dedicated to that trip, but now for the rest of the story. I reached Kansas City International airport at 10 am to pick up my bags. The Memphis ticket agent had assured me they would be on the "sold out" 8 am flight. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw them propped up against a wall in the baggage claim office. Out of curiosity I asked the clerk when my bags arrived. He smiled and said, “They got here last night”

I shook my head as I walked out of the office. I guess in Hell they can open an airplane door for bags, just not people. I dropped the car off at Hertz, stood outside in the sweltering heat and waited for mom to pick me up.

Now you would think that is the end of my experience into the tenth circle of Hell. But since I escaped once, the devil knew he had one last shot: my trip home. I didn’t commit any sins on this one. I booked the earliest flight out of Kansas City. Here's the abbreviated details:

08:20 landed in Memphis;
09:15 boarded plane for Charlotte;
09:40 pushed back from the gate;
09:50 returned to the gate;
10:05 pilot told us to disembark, mechanical delay;
11:00 got a 10 $ coupon for lunch, courtesy of airline (the equivalent of buying a Diet Coke in an airport);
13:00 finished reading all the magazines in my carry-on;
13:30 called Carla (she and Frank left Kansas City International an hour after I did this morning for a trip to Mexico). They’ll be in Puerto Vallarta before I get to Charlotte;
14:00 got back on the repaired plane. Called Jeff, “They said they were going to get us out of here ASAP, flight time is about 1.5 hours. Gotta turn off the phone.”;
14:15 sitting on the tarmac;
14:30 sitting on the tarmac;
14:45 plane took off. I reset my watch. Its 15:45 Charlotte time;
17:15 arrived in Charlotte;
17:45 picked my bags up.

At the passenger pick up area I was met by an impatient black doggie and a slightly frazzled husband who said, “I hate to tell you but I looked on the internet, if you had rented a car when you got to Memphis you would have been home by now!”

Sidebar: In 1995 there were 443 flights that were delayed over 3 hours; in June of 2007 alone 462 flights were delayed. In March 2007 I sat for five hours in Charlotte waiting on a plane bound for Portland ME. In December 2006 Jeff and I were scheduled for a flight with an arrival time in Kansas City around 5:30 pm, we got in at 10 pm and missed getting to eat dinner at our favorite KC restaurant, Garazzo’s. We got our lost luggage the day before we went back home.

Frank flew to Pennsylvania this week for a work meeting. He called Carla Friday night to let her know the flight crew had gone missing in Atlanta and the flight was delayed for at least an hour. This year I turned down a job at the premier Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas. The glitch, they wanted someone on-site every week. If you have the audacity to ask me why I turned down the job, go ahead I dare you! :)

Lance

Wow, I look at these pictures and my mind goes back to a little boy who begged me to read "The Hobbit" out loud to him one summer, learning how to make Ramon noodles so they are perfect and a kid who teased me sometimes till I wanted to shake him! Then growing up with all the teenage bittersweet moments and him living with us, cooking crazy stuff, renting movies, road trips to visit relatives, his messy bedroom, putting highlights in his hair one rainy Saturday night and him helping me shop for stuff to send to soldiers in Iraq.

He'll be leaving to go to Japan in a few months. I forgot to tell him the bittersweet stuff goes on for a lifetime...

Dry Summer

This hasn't been a long hot summer, just a long dry one. We sprayed our pasture for weeds in May and I asked the guy to make a pass over the yard if there was any weed-killer left when he got finished. We never thought that it wouldn't rain all summer long. The weeds died along time ago, but with no rain the grass hasn't filled in. We're left with brown patches and big brown spots of dirt in some places.

This spring we also planted some bushes and trees. We "were" watering everyday with the intent that they would get off to a good start, now we're watering so they won't die!

The good things in all this...the horses aren't getting overly fat this summer and other than the drought this has been a beautiful summer. It's cool in the mornings and evenings, warms up nicely in the afternoon. It's like we are in a constant state of "September". Really weird......

This is a picture of our garden (in May, before the rain stopped). Jeff built the trellis for the Raspberry Bushes and made my garden boxes higher (they used to be only one board high, now they are three boards high). There are blueberry bushes near the telephone pole with a family of bluebirds in the birdhouse on the pole. We've had lots of squash, tomatoes, basil, beans etc.


Sadie likes to sit in her chair and wait for her daddy to get home from work everyday. We added the lawn furniture this year and love it. We sit out there a lot and watch the sun go down. We framed the "mound" with rocks and planted an ornamental blue spruce (Jeff calls it the "afro-tree") and a lavender plant. We'll slowly add to it, until it is filled in with flowers and bushes.


I can't even believe it...... I just let Sadie in the house and it's raining!!

Brown Envelope Arrived

We got the "brown envelope" in the mail! When the American Consulate in Guangzhou, China receives the adoption paper work from the Department of Homeland Security the Consulate sends the family a notification letter and a lot of forms that are partially filled out. We have to take all of it with us to China. All this paper work comes in a nondescript brown envelope. I've heard of people who threw it out with the junk mail because it looks like junk mail.

We were keeping a watch out for it but weren't going to worry if we never got it. That's the other thing, sometimes families never get the "brown envelope". The agencies say "don't worry about it if you don't get it. We'll make sure all your documents made it to the Consulate's office before you fly to China." This never gave me a warm fuzzy feeling, but it's one of those things that Jeff says, "You just gotta let this one blow by you." I guess things get lost and if you don't have the pre-filled paperwork for the VISA and baby's medical exam they just do it again when you get there.

Here's the really ironic thing... The letter in the "brown envelope" is date March 5th 2007 and the letter has Jeff's name spelled correctly. We didn't get the new I-171 from the Department of Homeland Security with the correct spelling until March 9th. I don't know what's up with that, I guess the Consulate spelled his name wrong off the original I-171, but in making that error actually spelled it right!

Common Sense Flees America

The American Medical Association is urging the American Psychiatric Association to include in its mental illness manual "video game addiction" and the APA is considering it. The AMA wants to raise awareness of the issue and enable the addicted to get insurance coverage for treatment. This article was published in the Sunday paper last week. It went on to say that this addiction can be similar to a heroin addiction. A follow-up is scheduled this week on a nightly news programs.

The article cited a mother in Texas that complained that her teenage son's video game addiction caused him to fail two classes in school and become a recluse. Her picture was plastered in the headline and I actually felt sorry for her. I wondered was she embarrassed by the quote? I wondered how many times she went to the local video store and rented computer games for her son? If I gave my child heroin everyday and let them use it in the living room, would it dawn on me that I might be part of the problem. Most importantly I wondered if she realized many Americans would ask why she didn't unplug the computer and throw it in the trash heap a long time ago.

This is just another sign that America's thinking patterns are flawed and our common sense has deteriorated to the point of non-existence. Rather than accept parental responsibility it is easier to avoid it and have someone else pay for the outcome. Is it any wonder that health insurance in America is the most expensive in the world and that the average working class citizen can't afford it? Now we have what is supposed to be one of most well respected professional organizations in America, the AMA, devising a plan for insurance companies to foot another bill.

The amount of money spent researching the data for the AMA's report, reporting the story and making it the headline issue on a nightly news program could have been used more wisely to actually pay the reasonable medical expenses of someone who can't afford our luxury health care.

This ludicrous story comes on the tail of the recent lawsuit filed by a judge because a "mom and pop" dry cleaning service lost his trousers. We have an unaffordable health care system plagued by abuses of the very people that should be its watch dogs; a legal system back-logged with frivolous lawsuits, including those filed by elected officials who should be discouraging those practices.

Where is the sense in all this? Actually there isn't any, common sense spread her wings and took flight for distant lands leaving our mighty eagle to soar over a nation she no longer recognises.

What's Up with the Blog?

The blog has languished! I've had a few people ask me, "What's going on?" Let me tell you what's going on. Stacey, as usual, has committed herself to more things than one person could possibly accomplish in one month.

In the last month we've been on a trip to NYC (no pics on the blog, yet!) I finished a baby quilt and started another one (insane) for a wedding present, trashed that idea after getting it half done and sent money, the couple would probably rather have that anyway (oh, by the way someone is going to get a nice Christmas present and bribes are acceptable). Joined a quilt block swap group (blocks due by June 30), finished a scrap book that has been haunting me since February (due yesterday), and thought I didn't have enough to do, so I signed up for a writing course!

Sarah and Lance have been here for two week-ends and in the midst of weeding the garden, Sarah said, "You really do too much!" Actually I thought that was a compliment coming from a girl who is never home and has her social event calendar booked till next year.

So yes, I agree I'm trying to do too much, (but it is so fun)! Last night as I was sticking the last quilt block in an envelope, I decided Sarah was right. I'm not saying "yes" to anything else and I'm not volunteering for anything. What I really want to do is write and I've wanted to do that for years! So, my commitment is to writing, which is good for you who are following the blog! I'm real excited about my writing class and sent the first assignment in Saturday! (10 days before it was due, can you believe that!)

So, here's to a New Years resolution a few months late! Writing, Writing, Writing!

Opps! I already broke it. On Friday I'm taking a mare to be bred, so next spring we will have a new little baby in the barn! :-)

To Kill a Mockingbird

When Harper Lee coined the words "Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird," I'm not sure she was talking about the little booger that has taken up residence in the tree by our driveway.

He is a plagiarizer to the finest degree and his repertoire not only includes songbirds, but frogs, crickets, hawks and I'm sure I've heard him mimic Sami's cheeping (Sami's cage is in the bedroom right across from the tree.)

He's the reason I'm up at 3am on a Sunday morning. Sadie decided she needed to go out and I turned on the garage light. The soloist thought the sun was rising, so I had to stay awhile and listen. Actually he is quite comical and I hope he decides to hang around.

Where We Were July 20, 1969

If any of you family readers are wondering why I'm writing about where we were on July 20, 1969, please rewind back to my post on May 8, 2007.

Darling Daughter,

I remember exactly where I was on July 20, 1969. I asked your dad if he remembered where he was and he doesn't. He said it doesn't surprise him that I remember because he says I have the memory of an elephant and continually amaze him with the things I can recall.

My great-grand parents lived on a thousand acre farm near Parkville, MO. Well it seemed like a thousand acres to us kids but, I might be remembering that small detail wrong. Anyway they lived in an old house perched on a hilltop. I was sure the house was haunted, but that is another story for another day. My grandma and grandpa (grandma Roxie's mom and dad) lived on the same farm in a two bedroom trailer down the hill and around a corner.

July 20th was one of the hottest days that summer. It was sticky and overcast. Carla and I and our cousins Nancy, Johnny, and Stevie spent most of the afternoon playing outside, occasionally running inside the trailer to cool off in front of the window unit air conditioner. The air conditioner just happened to be in the living room and with five kids trying to stand in front of it we managed to block the view to the TV set. This irritated Grandpa Fred to some degree and he growled, "You kids need to decide if you are staying inside or going out!".

My dad was infected by grandpa's grouchiness and told us we really ought to stay inside, sit down, and watch TV. Now those are words that we rarely if ever heard from an adult! He continued, "History is in the making! Happening right before your eyes!"

We must have rolled our uninterested eyes at him and went back outside because I don't remember watching TV that afternoon. I hope my dad is proud that even though I didn't watch the news story that was broadcast across the entire world, that I distinctly remember the day and Neil Armstrong's famous phrase, "That's one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind," as he descended from Apollo 11.

Someday when you are in the third or fourth grade, you will come home from school and ask me if your dad and I were alive when man first walked on the moon. Now I know we will seem ancient compared to your friend's parents. I'll smile and say, "Yes sweet pea, we were alive."

You will be able to go to school the next day and amaze and stun your classmates with this information because I'm sure that none of their parents were!

Love,
Mom

Mother's Day Irony

Have you ever had something happen where the significance of the events was lost on you till everything was over. We took separate cars to church this morning because I had to stop off at Wal-mart on the way home to pick up a few things and Jeff was anxious to get home and start mowing.

I took the back way home from Wal-mart and as I was heading out of town two cars passed me on the two lane road. They were young boys, obviously together. One was in a souped up bright yellow sports car and the other was tailing him in an old mustang. They passed me at a high rate of speed, in the no passing zone, on a hill. Just as you get over the hill there is one last stop-light and all three of us had to stop for it. I thought "how ironic". This was one of those times I wished I had my cell phone to call the police, before those boys kill themselves or someone else.

After the light turned green they continued on and I turned off onto a country road that goes towards our house. A little later a deer come out from no where and ran in front of my car. I was far enough back that I stopped and watched her tear off into the woods. This girl was "booking". I've had deer run in front of me before, but this one was running like a horse in the Kentucky Derby. I don't know what scared her, but honestly I've never seen one run that fast before.

As I sat there in the road it dawned on me, that had it not been for those crazy boys that got in front of me at the stop light I would be dealing with a deer in my front seat. I can't really imagine what would have happened. She likely would have broad sided me. As fast as she was running she would have sent me over the embankment on the other side of the road.

So right now, I'm thanking God for two crazy teenagers that actually saved someone rather than killing them and praying that they get them home safely to their mothers on Mother's Day.

Waiting Child Program

We decided to apply to the "Waiting Child" program with our adoption agency. This means we would be open to adopting a baby who has a special medical need. I know that might sound scary and cause some anxiety. This is a voluntary program and was not required for us to adopt from China. We are still "in-line" in the "non-special needs program". The Waiting Child program is an additional option.

Actually Jeff was on board for adopting a special needs child before I was and I had seriously gotten to the point that I doubted an adoption was ever going to take place, given the possibility of a three plus year wait time.

A few months ago we watched a movie called "Facing the Giants". There is a scene in the movie where a chaplain tells the main character (summarizing I think from Mark 11:24 and II Corinthians 9:6-7) that if there is a drought and you've been praying for rain then you better plant your fields abundantly before you see the clouds rolling in. Oddly enough this was the same message of "action and faith" at church last Sunday.

We believe there is a child some where out there that is ours. We have done or are doing what we can to plant our field abundantly. We are in the "standard program" in China, we have applied to the "waiting child program" in China and I'm working on a domestic adoption portfolio. The "reaping" part is in God's hands. It won't matter where this child comes from or what he or she comes with, we will end up with the one we were supposed to have all along anyway.

Here is a brief outline of how the "special needs" program works. Our agency has a medical condition check-list. There are about 30 medical issues on the list, some are very minor and don't require any treatment at all, for instance the Chinese think some birthmarks are a bad omens, so that was on the list. Physical defects that are easily corrected in the US, like cleft palate/lip are on the list, etc. The family goes through the check-list and for each condition determines whether it is a: yes, no, or maybe, as far as your openness to adopt a baby with that problem and your ability to provide the needed medical care.

As of last week there were about 200 families on the waiting child list. The CCAI got 40 babies sometime in April and are working on matching those babies to families. They basically go through the list and match up babies to families based on the medical conditions. They start the matching process with the families who have been on the list longest. Our agency gets a new list about every 60 days with any where from 10-50 children on it. There are people who submitted their MCC's (medical condition check-list) in October-November 06 who are getting referrals right now.

Once the agency matches a family with a baby, the family is sent the medical records for that child. They have time to review the record, visit their pediatrician, and whatever they need to do to make a decision about accepting the referral. If they decide not to accept the referral, the family stays in the "waiting child line". If they decide to accept the referral, there is more paper work to be done. It takes about three months to get all that done before they are able to fly to China to adopt their baby.

Based on what has been going on with the "waiting child matches" here lately, I'm guessing we might get a referral around December! What a Christmas present that would be!!