Thursday, August 20, 2009

Last Day

Today is our last day here in our old home. The problem is that when we arrive, it seems so strange and unfamiliar, but then we spend time here. We feel at home again. And then it is time to pack up and move back home to where we work - where we also feel at home in a way.

This time was so short, hardly enough time to visit with people, not enough time to go to our favorite places. Ahh... yesterday was hot, and we saw people floating the river... so tempting, but no time. Today, we will try if we get time, to sneak up the mountain to our favorite lake for a very quick walk and the inevitable plunge into the tempting blue water. It just looks so refreshing.... until you dive in and realize it did just melt off the snowpack on the top of the mountain and is still COLD!

And I am packing again. Busy. One more church to speak in on the way home, and then some time off while my husband has classes. I'm sitting watching deer, quail, and other wildlife and wishing I could raise my kids here with room to run rather than in the city with a pocket yard.

but it is time to pack up again.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Answers to Those Deep Questions

Our two youngest boys are in camp and the oldest is hanging out with some friends, so we had just our daughter. We drove to another city to do some visits, a three hour drive.

My daughter is usually fairly quiet, but all on her own, she talked non-stop.

Finally, my husband asked her, "Girlie, are zebras white with black stripes or black with white stripes?"

She thought for a few minutes, and then came back with a question of her own: "Are you talking about boy or girl zebras?"

He answered that it didn't matter.

So she wondered about it a few more minutes and then said, "Because maybe girl zebras are white with black stripes and boy zebras are black with white stripes."

That explains it.

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Pioneers and Their Wagons

We went to a park to meet my sister and her two kids for a play evening. She was late, so we waited. My daughter was excited and wanted to know what car to look for. I said, "Well, Auntie has a red station wagon, I think." She looked at me, and then pulled my ear down, "But Mommy, aren't station wagons those things that are pulled by horses that the pioneers used?"

Time moves on. To her, it is all ancient history - covered wagons, station wagons, what is the difference?

God Knows What Size I Wear

So we came home, and we traveled light. It is supposed to be hot here, and it is cold. We went to some garage sales to get some old grubby clothes for our kids and for me when we go camping with friends. In one sale, there was a pile of old clothes they had for free - they had paint, stains, or rips. That's fine. I need them for boys who rip and stain everything, and I need them for a weekend.

I found everything I needed for the boys, and saw a pair of men's jeans. I don't wear men's jeans, but for camping... I grabbed them on the thought that they might work, washed them and tried them on. They are a perfect fit! Yeah, a little looser than my normal cut of jeans, but that is fine for camping.

I laughed. Why should I be surprised? God knows what size I wear.

Friday, August 7, 2009

The Wicked Witch is Dead

They are all dead - every last bed bug. #3's bites turned out to be poison ivy, which we caught early enough to keep under control. I used the same cream for my bites as his rash. So, we are all fine again. Only the bites on the bottom of my foot still bother me.

We are home - well, to our old home. It is strange to be here, so much home, and so much not all at the same time. We have so little time home this year, really only two and a half weeks. We are on phones now, setting up our schedule.

So there will likely be silence on the blog for a few weeks, but things are ok.

Pray for energy for me. I enjoy seeing people and visiting, but I am also someone who needs alone time, and traveling summers are short on that. Other than that, I enjoy the travel and visiting and seeing the great scenery of this huge country.