July Sliding By

I am not sure what has happened to the last week. We have had a couple of good rains butless just the few miles away where the crops are. We are grateful, nevertheless, for every drop we get. There have been lots of family transitions going on. I have had lots of rest, which unfortunately I am finding I require as I age. I have always resisted sleep and disliked wasting time on it, but now I welcome it. While I do not do much myself anymore, I get tired just hearing what others in the family are doing!

Not long ago, I resolved to start reading more fiction since I seriously have neglected that. I have not done too well with that resolution, but for some reason I read Sweet Caroline by Rachel Hauck—can’t even remember why I had that on a list to order but it was laying around. I re-read Benilde Little’s Acting Out, which I had picked up at Country Inn Suites with their good plan to let you borrow and carry out books. I re-read it because I could not remember what it was about. I need to return it and also Karen Hughes’ Ten Minutes From Normal the next time we visit Freeport.

Because Jane Eyre figured in Leslie’s engagement story and then her wedding invitation called Mary Ellen and Brian’s barn Thornfield Barn, I wanted to re-read that because I could not remember the story. I envy people who can remember and discuss their reading while I sit dumb, and I am always comforted when others confess that like me they too can’t remember what they read. I did enjoy reading it again. And now I have started Shirley, which has a book mark in early pages from long ago, so maybe I will finish it this time.

I have many more nonfiction books stacked around waiting for me to read and/or re-read. Sam is reading Elie Wiesel’s Night for his summer honors class reading, so I just finished reading it again. This is not a book that is pleasant, but I definitely think it is valuable for everyone to read. We need to recognize just how evil we humans are capable of becoming. Oddly, the love and humanity that Wiesel shares makes the book beautiful despite the ugly horror it shares.

I have also been reading in Judges reviewing the stories of Deborah and Barak, Gideon, Samson, and Jephthah and am horrified at the violence and ugliness depicted. I have to smile, however, at some men’s shame to be killed by a woman. I cannot imagine why one cares about the sex of the one who kills them, but obviously once upon a time, some people cared.

I seem to keep busy with watering the flowers, feeding the hummingbirds, reading the daily newspaper, and the two meals a day I prepare. The kitchen clean up surprises me at how long that takes with only two of us eating here. I don’t have nearly the time to read that I thought I would in retirement. But I am grateful to have so much waiting for me to enjoy reading, and maybe one of these days I will get organized to do some writing.

Whew! Watta a Week!

The house is quiet. After a week of much activity and fun, a quiet week will probably be needed for me to rest up. Having five teenage grandkids here all week has been a treat, and the energy in the air was delightful to observe. Now they have all gone their many separate ways. And all we have are memories.

These five kids and four other teens worked hard helping the children enjoy themselves at Vacation Bible School in our village, and they took a load of work off us adults. The neatest thing about their help is that the children enjoy interacting with those just a few years older than themselves. The little ones look up to these teen leaders and see kids they can emulate. I do not doubt that many of today’s VBS students will be working as leaders in the future.

Just as I have watched our grandkids grow up and I have fond memories of their early VBS, these kids too have watched younger children develop and mature. Brianna, once a shy little girl herself, was especially effective with a tiny little preschooler named Kayla, who was the essence of shy sweetness. Three years ago, I think it was, Brianna was assigned to walk with Kayla to various stations. They looked so sweet together holding hands, and even though they only see each other once a year for this week of VBS, the two of them have a strong bond of affection for one another.

Elijah and Trent have just completed their first year of college work, and so they have worked in our VBS for several years now. Sam and Cecelie are both bright enough to keep up with the older three, and they all five feed off each other’s presence. It is exciting to see them having a conference in the living room planning the next day’s skit for the closing assembly. (Or plotting their cousin afternoon or night-time recreation.)

Elijah has sung and acted all this life, and he is able to lead out with the large group as naturally as he breathes. But they all five help write the script for the skits, which has always included Brianna’s stuffed flamingo named Fred. Fred is a regular at most of their visits to the farm. This year Trent brought the huge koala bear he once won as a preschooler, and Eugene the Koala was prominent in this year’s skits with Trent supplying the voice from behind stage. Sam showed his acting ability playing Neville, who interacted with Grandpa Eiler (Elijah).

These grandkids play as hard as they work, and I could not keep up with all their stunts and made-up games that took them all over the farm with lots of water balloons and other accessories that they foraged in house, garage, and shop. The best I could figure out the object of one day’s game must have been to see who get the most dirt on themselves. (You can see the results on Brianna Taylor’s Facebook timeline.)

They sometimes piled in Brianna’s car and headed to town for refreshments or some project, and they spent one night by themselves up at the Taylors’ new house. From an agenda they left laying around, I see that the visit up there included telling stories out in The Barn.

Since the wonderful kitchen crew at VBS served lunch each day for the workers and any of their children, feeding the grandkids this week was easy. Our youngsters are used to helping themselves to cereal and juice on their own at breakfast, although mostly they didn’t because they stayed up late every night and snacked on peanut butter and jelly among other things—so they were not too hungry at breakfast time. I did fry bacon a few days—partly because Cecelie, who does not eat the bacon, likes the aroma when she wakes up.

Last evening their end-of-the-week plan was to eat out and go to a movie. (They had chosen to see Spiderman rather than Bat Man, but I did not know which until they returned home. But I was not worried about them.) Thursday evening we had invited the other teen workers to the farm for pizza and hanging out. (I cut a watermelon at the end of the evening—the first one I had bought this year—and it was really not ripe nor tasty, so I was disappointed at that.) But the other days, we had our evening meal together in the dining room, and the kids ate heartily and gratefully.

Before her wedding, Leslie had made two very large cakes just in case more was needed in addition to their large beautiful wedding cake. Neither was needed, so they ended up in my freezer. The kids were excited when they arrived and saw I had one of them out on the table in the teenage den—the junky basement room that started out as the little kids’ art room when we first moved into this house over a decade ago. When I found out we were having lunch at church after VBS, I took over the other cake Leslie made, so I got those out of the freezer to make room for the okra I am hoping to freeze from Gerald’s garden.

Jeannie and Rick arrived from Freeport last night to pick up Elijah and Cecelie, and we had to put Sam onto a couch to let them have that bedroom. Mary Ellen and Brian had come down to their house also, and they came over this morning to get their kids. They were taking Brianna down for a visit with her special cousin Savannah on Brian’s side of the family meeting up in Georgia and hoping to let the girls tour the University of Georgia campus. (And, of course, Brian would have a visit with his special cousin Randy.)

The last thing Trent wanted was an eight-hour ride to Georgia and back tomorrow with his parents while Bri stayed down. After Jeannie’s morning bike ride and a morning of visiting at the breakfast table, it was decided that Trent had the options of going to Georgia, staying here at the farm and/or at their new house on Route 13, or taking Uncle Rick up on his kind offer to go back by way of Springfield and dropping Trent off at his real home. Not surprisingly that is what Trent chose. So Brian (on his birthday today), Mary Ellen, Brianna, and Fifi left first for their long trip south.

Later after lunch, three kids, their suitcases, and the dogs Lucky and Leah, all piled into the Eiler van along with the last of the big pots of petunias from Leslie’s wedding. Jeannie’s bike went on the back of the van last, and after hugs and waves, the Eilers and Trent took off for their long trip north.

Then Sam and I started preparing for his return home locally. Gerald had kindly put a couple gallons of gas in my car because our warning light had come on yesterday since I’d failed to fill up in town Thursday afternoon. (Yeah, there was a little bit of finger wagging.) We stopped in town and filled the tank and went to Wal-Mart to get a couple of items for Sam’s trip this week with his church youth group to help in a VBS in Belleville.

The Taylors would have liked to have seen Gerry and Vickie and Geri Ann while in Georgia, but they are traveling too. As soon as they got back from California for all the Gatorade award and ESPY excitement and ceremonies, they went to New York City for Geri Ann to play ball there with the Wichita Mustangs at the Triple Crown tournament. This was a first visit to that city, and they really enjoyed it. They flew back to Atlanta for her to play with the Georgia Southern Force at Dahlonega today, and tomorrow they fly to Oklahoma City for a tournament and then on to a tourney in California. I am sure they will be glad to be home when all this fun is over.

After I returned from taking Sam home, I finally had time to get on Facebook and see the latest wedding photos that Leslie had put on yesterday and the family was talking about. If you want to see them, I think you can by searching for Leslie Eiler Thompson on Facebook and looking at her new album under the heading “Photos.” Someday I may learn how to put photos on here and/or Facebook, but so far, I have to depend on others to share pictures.

It has been a busy week, but I have made a point to get plenty of sleep every night but did not waste energy trying to get the teenagers to do so (and they didn’t). So I am ready for rest but not too tired. I am just grateful for one more special VBS week with grandkids.

A Sad Night in America

The paragraph about the nation’s grief over the events at Aurora, Colorado, somehow just got erased and I can’t retrieve it. And I am too tired to try and write it over if I could. One thing I said was that right now while we wait for the investigators and reporters to dig up the information we so desperately want, it may be better not to say anything. So maybe it is best that my paragraph was lost. It is natural for us to seek answers for something so terrible and unusual. Despite the horrible evil that took place, there was even more bravery and goodness shown. We are grateful for all the heroes among us and for all the officials who have done their work so well. In many places on the globe, people have to live daily with carnage, and I hope this event in our homeland makes me more compassionate and prayerful for those who deal with tragedy every day.

Celebration Time

Jeannie finished her 600 plus mile bicycle ride at 2:30 Friday afternoon and stuck her toes in the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers at the southern tip of Illinois in Cairo. Then they loaded the bike on the back of the van, and she crawled into the van with her coach to drive to nearby Metropolis. There her coach (husband Rick) took her photo in front of the huge Superman statue. Her goal and plans had been completed. They next arrived at our house, and we had thawed leftovers from their daughter Lesley’s wedding for our supper. (It may take me awhile to empty the freezer of those.)

Actually we celebrated Jeannie’s achievement the night before. Gerald and I drove to Murphysboro and then up and down the steep hills there over to the Big River—the Mighty Miss. We met up with Jeannie and Rick at Grand Tower, where they were taking a break in the mid afternoon. They were running late after a late start because of some camping problems the night before. They also explained it had been rough riding because not only was the wind against Jeannie, but part of the Mississippi River Bike Trail had been on a graveled levy road. When it started lightning and they were traveling under electrical lines, Rick was ready for her to leave the levy and get back on Route 3.

We enjoyed driving through Grand Tower and seeing the Devil’s Backbone Park there by the river. We had a little circling to do before we found each other in this little town because our cell phones suddenly did not have service in one part of the town. But finally we got a connection, and they told us they were parked by the First Baptist Church there.

That was easy for Gerald to find because he knew exactly where it was. When he was eleven, his family had brought him there from their little country church, which met in a tiny country school building, to be baptized in the baptistry there. Their family friends, Johnny and Suzie Dickson, belonged there, and so it was a familiar building to Gerald’s family. We were there a few years ago for Suzie’s funeral. So we took photos of Jeannie and us in front of the outside sign and finally went back to Route 3 heading to Gerald’s brother Garry and wife Ginger’s farm. We were delighted to see rain puddles beside the road in Wolf Lake before we turned off on the road to the forest preserve. Garry and his son Kerry have had considerable more rain this year than we have, and their crops were looking good.

The Mississippi River Bike Trail actually goes through the Trail of Tears Forest Preserve near Gerald’s home place, where Garry and Ginger live now. They said they knew they frequently saw bicycle riders going on that road, and now they understood why. For some reason, the bike trail leaves Route 3 and goes into Jonesboro and heads down Route 127 for the final lap to Cairo.

While we waited for Jeannie and Rick, we called Gerald’s brother Keith and wife Barbara and Garry and Ginger’s daughter Vicki, who was in Carbondale when we reached her, and we let them know that Jeannie was finally in the area for supper rather than lunch as we had thought might be the case. We all met and celebrated and took more photos at a restaurant in Anna before Jeannie and Rick rode back home with Garry and Ginger and spent the night with them. This brought back a lot of childhood memories for Jeannie from the days when she visited grandparents there.

After Jeannie and Rick arrived to sleep their final night at our house, she rose early the next morning to ride her bike here, but it was raining. This was the first time they had been stopped by rain the entire trip. (I thought maybe nature was telling Jeannie she had ridden enough!) We got a nice rain, but unfortunately just a few miles up the road on the farm with our crops, we only got a wee shower. Nevertheless, we had a wonderfully lazy relaxing breakfast with the Eilers before they took off to meet their kids—Elijah and Cecelie--coming down from Freeport to Bloomington.

There Rick went on towards home, and Jeannie took the kids back down to the south Springfield area to Brian and Mary Ellen’s house. Later that night the two Eiler grandkids and the Taylor grandkids--Trent and Brianna--all arrived at Woodsong for the week. Of course, they stopped in town at Sam’s house to bring him out too. These teens have gone from coming to our house to attend Vacation Bible School to coming to help with it. They love being together. I did not think Elijah would be able to come since he was working, but come to find out, he had taken the job with permission to take off this week.

This morning Sam’s dad picked him up to go to his church in town, but the other four went to Sunday School and worship with us, and I was pleasantly surprised to see all four sitting up in the choir. (We have a very informal village church, and anyone is welcome to sing in the choir.) Behind us, our friends Don and Pat Boyd had sitting with them their youngest son Rod and wife Theresa and three of their four kids who had flown in from Florida. It was good to see this collection of so many grandkids sitting in the pews where it seems only yesterday their parents were sitting.

After lunch, the kids collected Sam again, and soon they were at the dining room table playing one of their favorite games that someone brings to the farm. We all went over the church house tonight to join others there decorating and setting up for tomorrow morning. Back home after a quick help-yourself supper, the house is now filled with giggles and voices as the cousins work on a skit they plan to do. Somewhere in the house Sam’s ukulele is sounding. This is all good and worth celebrating. Certainly we have problems and more than one grief going on in our lives also, but this part is good and we are glad.

By the way, Jeannie wrote on Facebook that it was a beautiful day for a bike ride up in Freeport.

Cooled Off But No Rain for Our Crops

Thunder was rumbling awhile ago, and so I shot up yet another prayer for rain. Someone said we couldn’t or shouldn’t pray for weather control, but I figure God knows what we need and He can take my prayer of what I think we need and translate it and transform it however He wills. He knows how much I want rain for our family, and I figure He is always glad to hear from His children just as I am to hear from mine. I have a friend, whom I respect, who says we do not need to add, “If it be Thy will…” to our prayers, but I am uncomfortable without adding that phrase, which I feel is important to qualify what I ask for.

We have had some rains in our area, and it has cooled off this week. But the rain has been spotty. Some places had six inches and a friend’s basement was flooded. Other places had good rains but winds knocked down trees. Despite our small rains here at Woodsong, when we drive the short distance up to where our son-in-law Brian has our crops growing, to what I call Wayside Farm on the Pittsburg road, there are no puddles by the roadside and the fields are dry. We think, however, Brian received some rain over on his rented land near Harrisburg. The extreme heat last week was making all the potted plants from the wedding dry out and burn up on our unshaded deck, so I moved them all to the downstairs walk-out patio. I only need to water them every other day now.

Jeannie exalted last night in a terse message on Facebook that yesterday she had done more than 100 miles on her bicycle—a personal goal of hers. The night before Rick had secured them a hotel room in Hannibal, Missouri, so a good night’s rest must have energized her. She mentioned Alton, so she is coming close to this end of the state.

Gerry and Vickie are with Geri Ann in Los Angeles, where they were flown because of Geri Ann’s winning the Gatorade High School National Softball Player of the Year. The program planned for these top male and female athletes in six different sports has been elaborate and I suspect life changing. I thought it was tremendous that the parents were also awarded these special days in Los Angeles.
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After supper prep, then eating with Gerald, and my starting kitchen clean-up, I am finally back to finish this blog. Gerald and I just finished watching the award dinner for the 12 student athletes on ESPN3 on my computer here in the office. Breanna Stewart and Johnathan Gray were named Male and Female Student Athletes of the Year. She was Basketball Player of the Year and Jonathan was Football Player of the Year. It was great fun seeing Geri Ann looking so pretty and having her softball career reviewed along with the other 11 student athletes. And, of course, I also loved it when there was an occasional glimpse of Gerry and Vickie in the audience.

While we were watching Geri Ann’s banquet, Jeannie phoned. She and Rick will be camping tonight in a park near Dupo. Tomorrow she rides to Chester, and on Thursday, she expects to be in Wolf Lake and probably on to Jonesboro to change from Route 3 to Route 127 for the final lap to Cairo. We plan to meet up with her and Rick on Thursday.

Our Young Adult Class that Gerald and I teach at our village church is studying the book of Judges right now. So my extra time today, when I have not been socializing on the computer or involved with housewifery, has been trying to understand Judges and also trying to prepare games and songs for Vacation Bible School next week.

A special friend from that village church was the late Rhoda Mae Cline. In my memory, I can see and hear her saying as she often did, “It’s a busy world.” I must agree with her. I better go finish the kitchen clean up and make tomorrow morning’s coffee. Not even heard any thunder recently.

Traveling Down Illinois by Bicycle--600 Miles

With their daughter Leslie’s wedding behind them, Jeannie and Rick are now trekking from the Wisconsin border of Northern Illinois on down the Mississippi River Trail with the goal of reaching Cairo at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. Jeannie is riding her bike, and Rick is in their van as her support team.

Rick is to go ahead of her and set up camp in their van, which has a mattress prepared for them. However, today she wrote on Facebook that he was pouring cold water over her to keep her cool, and then a swim was planned at wherever they had stopped before taking off to ride in the cool of the evening.

They left Wisconsin to ride to Savanna and on to Rock Island, and are heading to Keithsburg if I understood her last FB post. So far she is sounding enthusiastic, and she had to phone her daddy to say the scenery has been beautiful. I try not to think of her riding on the same highway as the big semi-trucks since much of the Mississippi River Trail uses the highways that follow the Mississippi River corridor. Of course, watching the outside temperature at 109 as we traveled in an air conditioned car today did not relieve my concern either.

A tentative schedule has her arriving from Chester to Wolf Lake towards the last part of next week. I imagine we might go there to wave as she goes by, and we will probably be going to Cairo to celebrate the conclusion of this dream of hers. We are all a little amazed by this venture, but we are following her FB posts with great interest.

A Quiet Fourth of July

Our flag is flying as always on the lawn of Woodsong. Gerald has never enjoyed fireworks very much although occasionally we took our kids to see them. In recent years, however, I have been content to watch Marion’s distant fireworks from our deck, but the dry weather has made all fireworks forbidden in our area, so I will not do that tonight. The day seems unusually quiet with no neighborhood sounds of popping.

Erin had talked about coming over to fish this morning, but she has been so over-busy lately with recruiting trips, moving to a new place, painting her new bedroom, giving lessons, and keeping up with her job on campus that I hope the reason she did not come was that she slept in for a change.

Her house mate Toni had finished her graduate study and her job in this area, and moved to Colorado to a new job. So Erin was ready to move on when a friend in Carbondale needed a new house mate. With the help of friends, she had done most of the moving to this lovely duplex, which is closer to campus and has a swimming pool in the back yard.

One thing remained, however. A huge very weighty sectional sofa given to her by Toni’s parents a year ago. She and Toni had covered it with wine sheets stapled over the old-fashioned pattern, and I think Erin was somewhat sentimental about this first living room furniture because Randy and Lori (her local stand-in parents) had given it to her.

Erin asked her grandfather if he could move it on his pickup’s trailer. Fortunately, he had the lights working and license up-to-date, so he was pleased to help her. I tagged along yesterday because it had been too long since we’d had a visit, and I wanted to see both Erin and her new living quarters. Erin was waiting on the steps of the little house she had rented in Cambria, but Sadie was already in the new place. It was such a peaceful neighborhood with the sound of birds all around, I wondered why she was leaving, but then later I saw that the new neighborhood was also peaceful and full of bird sounds.

I also soon understood why she needed her grandpa to help her move the humongous sectional sofa. She and Gerald tugged and pulled and lifted and rearranged the three heavy-weight sections of this sofa, but the biggest piece just would not go through the narrow door. Since she, Toni, Randy, and Lori had moved it in, Erin knew it surely could come out.

Finally Gerald removed the door, and they got the largest piece through. It was not so difficult to get it through the wider 36 inch door at the new place, but Gerald still took that door off also to avoid scratching it. I had asked if the new house mate did not already have a sofa, and Erin said yes but the living room was large. And it was—quite large enough to easily hold her sectional in addition to the other woman’s couch and her piano and small pieces.

Erin had to go on to her work place, and we had more errands to do in Marion, so we hurried off. After lunch in town, we drove home hoping that the overcast sky meant we were going to finally get some rain at the farm. We’d had a shower Sunday evening (not even measurable on the rain gauge) when some just south of us got two inches, but our farm crops just to the north on the Pittsburg road got nothing. We were thrilled when the rain came yesterday afternoon and we got almost three-tenths of an inch, but then we felt disappointment when we learned that again the crops got not a drop. So we are still hoping for yet another chance this afternoon or evening before it is too late to help much.

Since the creek bed up on the Pittsburg road farm was still bone dry, Gerald went up this morning to continue his work clearing it. Kroger was open today and the senior citizen day was in progress, so that was my day’s duty. I appreciated that once again a group of volunteers from the local Church of God wearing green T shirts were stationed to help us oldsters at the counter. After efforts to buy most of a month’s supply of groceries, having someone help to empty the cart is welcome.

I also accepted an employee taking the groceries to my car, but after I saw the beads of sweat on his brow from all that parking lot work he’d already done, I really felt ashamed I’d let him. When I apologized and thanked him, he was so sweet and said with enthusiasm, “That’s what we are here for.” All the kindness made my dreaded monthly expedition more pleasant than it could have been. (Of course, I still have to pick up needed items between these major shopping trips.)

To celebrate the Fourth, I bought some ribs for lunch from the employee smoking them on the front patio of the store. I felt sorry for him too working outside in the heat, and I wondered if Leslie were doing the same down in Nashville as she has some Saturdays this spring. At home, I quickly baked us a potato in the microwave to go with the ribs while Gerald finished carrying in groceries after I’d stashed the perishables. Together with our very first tomatoes from Gerald’s garden and the wonderful fresh cherries I had purchased, I felt we had a good Fourth of July dinner. Now if it would just rain…

Shifting Back to Normal--Whatever That Is

Our granddogs, Lucky and Leah, are probably back in Freeport by now. Jeannie took them away from Woodsong last night in preparation for her leave taking today. Jeannie has been sleeping over at Mary Ellen and Brian’s place while she cleaned up after the wedding. She has been busy sorting dishes, washing and ironing borrowed napkins, cleaning stuff out of The Barn, and returning items to the church house. Gerald has helped with the heavy stuff; and though I offered to help, I haven’t been called on.

I could tell Jeannie was becoming homesick for her family, and I am sure they are for her. Yet she has tried to work in bike rides every day, which she couldn’t do the last few days before the wedding, She is in training for her post-wedding adventure that she has been dreaming about for a year. She plans to start at Wisconsin and ride the length of Illinois down to Cairo. She had started shopping for a new bike up in her home territory, but still had not made the purchase before she came down. So the last couple days she was making phone calls and looking at bikes here in this part of the state.

Knowing how Gerald loves anything with wheels and that he was one one who gave her the first bike she really started riding distances back in her college days, Jeannie invited him yesterday to go shopping with her. (Come to think of it, he was the one who taught her to ride her first bike as a little girl. She was having trouble getting the hang of it and was distraught. In a family scrapbook, I have her little note asking her daddy for help. Of course, he helped.) I knew they would have fun on this shopping trip.

Gerald also made some phone calls, and they ended up going to Paducah to a bike shop there and found the light weight bike she really wanted. Looking brand new with almost no miles on it, the bike had been traded in by previous owner for a mountain bike. Jeannie was delighted to find what she liked for considerably less than she and Rick had budgeted for. She was all smiles when they came home.

We now are storing her older bike along with other residue from the wedding that would not fit into Rick’s pickup that she ended up with to haul the borrowed water tank back to their friend. I inherited the left-over flavored cans of soda from the wedding, so I have a huge supply here now for the grandkids, who will be back in a couple of weeks to help out with Vacation Bible School.

Gerry, Vickie, and Geri Ann had to leave immediately after the wedding because they were catching a plane out of Atlanta on Sunday to go to the annual exposure softball tourney in the Boulder area. Since this is Geri Ann’s last time to play in this tournament, Gerry was waxing sentimental since their family has been involved with playing and coaching there for several years. (This was Tara’s first time to not go in five years. She and Bryan and the three boys left here to visit his family in the Chicago area and should be back through here tomorrow afternoon.) Gerry was there the last few years as a recruiter for Georgia, and this year Erin joined him and Vickie out there. She was a recruiter for Southern Illinois University Carbondale, of course, and she had been recruiting the previous weekend at an Indiana tourney and was not even able to come to the wedding.

Knowing their family was there when a lightning strike near Boulder erupted into the huge fire just one mountain ridge away made me even more concerned about the Colorado wild fires. I had already been torn up at the larger fire at Colorado Springs. They saw the strike during one of Geri Ann’s pool play games, which consequently had to be postponed. Gerry sent a photo on Facebook, and I was ready for them to get out of there. But Gerry had phoned me later that it looked as if the fire would stay that ridge away and for me not to worry. (Ha. Fat chance.) My Oregon cousin’s grandson Ian is there now fighting these fires as he does during each summer, so I have even more to be concerned about.

Last Saturday I had actually mentally planned a light lunch for whoever was to be at Woodsong before the wedding, but I intended to also have cold cuts in the fridge in case the hair appointments in town took too long. They did. I failed to get by Small’s to buy the cold cuts; and just when I was wondering what people back on the farm would eat for lunch, our son-in-law David spoke up when we dropped Katherine back home. He explained that he had bought a smoked pork shoulder along with a rack of ribs from the fund raiser at Boynton Center that morning. He said he thought with extra people at the farm that maybe I could use the shoulder. (The ribs were for Sam.) He handed me a warm foil-wrapped wonderful smelling piece of pork, which we were able to let people eat for sandwiches at the farm.

There wasn’t time for me to eat lunch that day, but Gerald and I have been eating on that delicious hunk of meat all week. Jeannie had given us some left-over chicken and dumplings, so I haven’t cooked much with just Gerald and me here at Woodsong this week. Today Jeannie unloaded left-over sweets on us, so my freezer is getting full again.

A couple days ago Gerald brought over all the colorful petunias and other potted plants used to decorate The Barn. Some are for Leslie and Mike the next time someone goes to Nashville after they are home from their honeymoon. Most are for Jeannie when someone headed to Freeport has room for them. In the meantime, I have a gorgeous display of petunias and a few other plants on the picnic table on the deck just outside our kitchen doors, and I am enjoying them along with all the wedding memories.

Echoes of Wedding Bells

People were moving slowly today, resting, and reliving the last few days’ activities as we saw our granddaughter Leslie become the bride of Michael Thompson. People have been coming and going here at Woodsong, and Leslie has been the center of much fuss and attention. Many of the far away guests had already left the area last night, and our granddaughter Tara and husband Bryan left Woodsong with their three little guys this morning. Our daughter Mary Ellen came over to drink coffee and talk over all the happenings before I left for Sunday School and worship.

Jeannie and Cecelie came down last Sunday to start preparations, and Leslie late Monday night. The bridesmaids and friends started arriving Wednesday and were cloistered up at Brian and Mary Ellen’s recently purchased house when they weren’t involved in parties and wedding preparations. After the bridemaids’ brunch that Jeannie gave at the church on Thursday morning, they put on their gifts of aprons and pitched in helping make cookies and goodies in our beautiful new church kitchen with its two fine stoves.These were served at last night’s picnic at The Barn.

Jeannie really wanted to have the young women learn to make dumplings there too, which would have been a very practical experience for them and probably a lot of fun. (I would have liked that lesson also.) That did not work out, however, but Jo Barger, one of the best and most knowledgeable cooks in our region volunteered to obtain frozen dumplings from a friend of hers and prepare the large pots of chicken and dumplings for Jeannie. This kind of generosity with her cooking talent is overwhelming to me, but hundreds have profited by the meals she has invited them to or often taken to them down through the years.

Jo always worked full time in the family bookkeeping business (and still helps out at her son’s during tax season), but she and her late husband John gardened and shared produce with their customers—especially the older ones. Jo canned and cooked into the night because she enjoyed it. When she made one of her famous cakes, the understanding was that she had to wake John to lick the pan, and she was careful to be generous there too.

Jo not only published her own cook book, but they built a little cabin just for her with an old-fashioned wood-burning cook stove to entertain with huge country breakfasts. She knows how to prepare anything from a lovely dinner party in her dining room to prime rib for a crowd at a banquet. Jeannie made sure the young women had one of her cook books in the hand crafted monogrammed bags she made for each maid. Before it was over, Jo was helping Jeannie finish up her cobblers and even had the pots of corn-on-the cob ready for Rick to pick up and take to The Barn along with the chicken and dumplings.

While the bridesmaids gave Leslie a shower in their house Thursday night, Jeannie came back to our house along with Rick and Elijah, who had arrived from Freeport. Cecelie, who was designated “Sister of Honor” on Leslie’s wedding program, was deemed old enough to stay there for that all-girl party. Mike and his groomsmen, musician friends, and his parents were in Marion by this time doing their thing.

On Friday, after a fourteen-hour bus trip back from Washington, D.C., Brianna immediately drove with Trent down from the Springfield area to join their cousins here. So, of course, Sam came back out to the farm. Brianna had won this week-long sight-seeing trip sponsored annually by Rural Electrical Association with an essay she wrote. Everyone was wanting to hear about her adventures in the Capitol.

After some road construction on the way, the Archibalds with their three little sons arrived just in time for the rehearsal since Aidan was ring bearer. Geri Ann had afternoon entrance exams for the University of Georgia, so she and Gerry and Vickie did not arrive until long after midnight. (Gerald and I were already asleep, of course.) Rick’s family was also arriving in Marion to their motels there.

Mike’s parents had arranged a delicious dinner at the church following the rehearsal and thoughtfully invited grandparents to join them. Since the new fellowship hall was already set up for the reception the next day, this party was held downstairs in our former fellowship hall. I was somewhat embarrassed since this low-ceiling room looked barren and forsaken when I took the Thompsons and Mike’s grandmother down there Friday morning. But when we arrived that evening, the room was transformed by them to a place of light and beauty. Jeannie said it brought back some wonderful memories to her of all the meals and social times she had enjoyed there as a child. We filled three oblong tables placed in “U,” and the air was electrified by all the youthful energy in the room. We loved hearing the comments and stories when Mrs. Thompson invited guests to speak. Six-year-old Aidan and Jasmine, the adorable flower girl, were quite taken with each other and chose to sit with each other.

Brian and Tara shepherded their three sons through the festivities with grace as always, but the boys were no more eager to get back to the farm than Gerald was because he had the lime pile all ready for their play and they knew daylight was fast fading. Maddux wanted to ride the tractor before bed. Gerald had bought a third little shovel because Payton is no longer a baby but a big boy like his brothers. He caught on in a hurry to this game of lifting shovels of lime from the pile to the little wheel barrel and/or wagon on the toy tractor. He and Maddux tried both toy tractors that are left-overs from Erin’s preschool days. And, of course, there were tractor rides for all on the big tractor long after dark.

Jeannie had been looking all week for a trailer to offer a hay ride at the Saturday night party. She located one at her friend Polly’s parents’ house (more youthful memories), and Gerald started the wedding day retrieving that. He was already scheduled to take me and Katherine to get our hair cut and styled in town, so it was a busy morning that lasted into early afternoon. Somehow we got to the church on time (barely) for the two o’clock wedding, where we were greeted by Brianna at the guest book and grandsons Trent and Sam. I got to walk in on the arm of my handsome Sam in his new suit, since Gerald was going to bring Jeannie in.

I studied again the names of the wedding party and musicians listed on the program printed on the hand-made fans Jeannie had worked on all week, sometimes with Sam and Elijah’s help. Although it was not necessary in the air conditioning, I did use the fan to get in the mood for the vintage theme throughout the afternoon. Colorful potted plants in multiple colors filled the room, and two ivory candles lit up the choir rail.

Soon Mike came out looking handsome in his gray suit and followed by his groomsmen including Les’ brother Elijah all wearing gray trousers and white shirts with colorful ties. (Leslie grew up loving Seven Brides and Seven Brothers, and the bright ties reflected that.)

As we expected, Leslie looked absolutely beautiful in her mother’s wedding veil and remodeled wedding dress. The bridesmaids wore short dresses of lace with different colors beneath the lace. I could not help but notice that Cecelie, our youngest grandchild, could have passed for another college girl. LaRonda had done wonderfully colorful bouquets for Leslie and maids. I loved my bright corsage, which like the others contained left-over lace and ribbons from Jeannie and Rick’s wedding 25 years ago at Center. Aidan and Jasmine did a good job and charmed us with the cuteness.

Jeannie had taken a dress from my college days (that had hung in the kids’ dress-up closet) to Freeport. A seamstress there changed the bodice and sleeves and created a lace top in order to have the 1950s look she wanted. The music was as fine as I expected, and the minister, who had been Mike and Leslie’s Bible professor at Belmont did a good job explaining the love necessary for successful marriages.

Leslie had dried flowers all winter, and the fellowship hall was filled with arrangements from those. By haunting thrift shops and borrowing from friends, Jeannie had turned the room into a lace and linen throw-back to long ago parties. Plates of red strawberries gave just the right accent of color on the white or cream linens. Glassware was the 1950s party plates and cups. Candles beside ancient family Bibles of Rick’s father and grandfather, both ministers, decorated each table. (Jeannie grabbed very old books from the bookcase in our front hall for the tables left after she ran out of Bibles.)

The tiered wedding cake offered chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry choices, and my strawberry was yummy. Lemonade was served in the large punch bowl we used for Jeannie’s wedding. The walls were hung with clothesline filled with many black and white photographs of the bride and groom during their long courtship. I had not seen Rick’s brothers since his wedding, so it was especially fun for me to visit with David from Florida and Scott from Michigan as well as the other guests.

There was a pleasant break with time to change clothes before the picnic and party at Thornfield Barn at Brian and Mary Ellen’s new place. Men had brought the church picnic tables over to the lovely shaded lawn by the barn and we were surrounded there with green corn fields. The serving tables in the barn were loaded with the fried chicken, home-made yeast rolls brought up from Nashville, the chicken and dumplings, slaw, tomatoes, corn and green beans and a variety of desserts Jeannie, Jo, and the young women had prepared. Rick had brought a shiny watering trough down from a Freeport friend, and it was filled with iced colas and sodas.

The original barn owners had been very artistic. Left behind in the barn was a very large circular metal ornament of some sort for some unknown purpose with rows of circles. Gerald had repaired it with his welder and Jeannie had used large canning jars with candles on the outside row and tiny candles in small glass containers towards the middle. This was hung to create overhead lighting and was very pleasing as were all the bright colorful potted plants.

White we ate and visited, kids swung on the tire swing, and young men pitched horse shoes while young women sat on the grass watching as they loved and petted a little stray dog who showed up for the party. Chairs and mikes were set up inside the barn for a group of the couple’s musician friends, and the music throughout the evening was very special. Sometimes we just listened, and occasionally some danced. A special favorite moment for me was when my six youngest grandchildren spontaneously ran up and created a circle to do The Trent, a dance that was originated by him in Vacation Bible School many years ago.

As the evening went on, many crowded on the wagon for a hay ride. Someone built a fire in a fire pit. And most of us just circulated and visited. Then it was time for the Mike and Leslie to leave on their honeymoon. It was dark now, and sparklers had been passed out. The best man yelled out to light them and make a trench for the bridal couple to run through on their way to their decorated car. It made a lovely exit for the new Mr. and Mrs. Mike Thompson.

Wedding Week at Woodsong

The bride arrived about midnight last night. I woke up this morning to a quiet house as Jeannie, the mother-of-the-bride, was already out and about with her list of errands. The house was so quiet that I thought Leslie had gone with her mother. I had just started to read the morning paper with my coffee when Les appeared to eat her bowl of Wheaties.

I wished later I had stopped reading and visited with her a bit because the next thing I knew she was out the door. I asked if she were going to The Barn, and she laughed and said she was and then showed me her list of all the other places she also had to go today. Gerald was on his way to help with a project he got involved in yesterday for The Barn, which Leslie called Thornfield Barn on their wedding invitation. This is in honor of the part Jane Eyre had in her and Michael’s romance. (If that confuses you, you can check their proposal page on http://thethompsonwedding.us.)

I was feeling a little left out, but at least the living room floor was still filled with all the sign making Jeannie had Sam involved with last night before she took him home after midnight and went to get more poster board. The coffee table had the beginnings of the hand-made church fans Jeannie is making. The dining room table is filled with stuff because I have been digging in cabinets looking for glassware or anything vintage that Jeannie wants to use for the cake and punch reception at the church.

After I visited at Katherine’s this afternoon and was coming home, I passed Leslie going out on our rural road, and when I reached the farm, Gerald told that Les had packed up to go over to the house, which sits in front of the barn.

When I heard Jeannie upstairs tonight, by the time I left the computer and went up, she had the living room all picked up and her suitcase ready to roll to join Leslie for the next couple of nights. Mary Ellen and Brian offered the house to Leslie to use for her bridesmaids. (They still have their camper down here, which was what they used before buying this new place, so their family will stay this weekend in their camper on their rented lot.)

They did not paint the barn as requested, but Mary Ellen could not resist starting some redecorating before the wedding so it would look nice. As busy as he is all the farm work this time of year, Brian power washed the concrete barn floor and has the lawn all neat for company. David and Sam drove out and put up the tire swing Jeannie wanted for children, and Gerald is going to donate his washers and horse shoes for the party.

I am most looking forward to the music that Mike and Leslie’s friends are going to provide both at the church and Thornfield Barn. The friends are a talented bunch, so our spirits and our ears will be blessed.

Another Postscript on Geri Ann

Today our granddaughter Geri Ann was in Rome, Georgia, for two high school state all-star games. Yesterday she participated there in the home run derby and won by hitting 31 home runs in the three rounds.

Today she was asked to be interviewed for an ESPN segment about yesterday’s derby. The first person she saw when she walked in was international softball legend Jessica Mendoza. Geri Ann has been interviewed many times but never by someone like the former Olympic athlete and the softball analyst for ESPN, who has been one of her all-time favorites. She admits that she felt a little nervous but answered questions the best she could.

What Geri Ann did not know until the middle of that interview was that Mendoza was really there to unveil and present to her the Gatorade National Softball Player of the Year trophy.

Many folks in our region remember Geri Ann as the little sister of two other outstanding softball players—Tara Glasco Archibald and Erin Glasco. Their mother Vickie would bring Geri Ann with an assortment of sand pile toys to keep her happily occupied while they played ball. Vickie would have this toddler looking so cute all spic and span. A half hour later, softball fans were laughing at the adorable grubby preschooler. (Now-a-days Vickie is bringing toys to entertain her three little grandsons at ball games—Aidan, Maddux, and Peyton Archibald.)

I remember long ago when Geri Ann’s father Gerry commented that the poor little thing was only two years old and had already attended some huge number of ball games. I think she was four or five when she played with her first team at the Johnston City park. If anyone got a hit, that player could probably count on a home run since these little beginners were not likely to catch the ball, and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to throw it very far. We parents and grandparents in the stands and on our lawn chairs would go wild cheering these tiny runners around the bases. It wasn’t Geri Ann but another little girl a year younger whose participation I remember most clearly. Tiny for her age, she was standing in the outfield desperately needing to go to the restroom. Finally she got her mother’s attention, and we all relaxed and smiled at each other. I still tease her about this when I occasionally see her. She is now one of the many girls from our region who have earned college scholarships because of their softball skills.

This morning I took Geri Ann’s cousin Sam to give his first trombone lesson to an eighth grade sister of a friend of his. She was already doing well in band, but hopes to get better. Sam was pretty excited after the lesson telling me how much he enjoyed sharing what he has learned. He realized that maybe a near-peer might still remember how it was at the beginning while learning an instrument. He said only this past year has some things he had been taught really clicked in for him.

Sam and I were at McDonald’s eating lunch at noon when I got the phone call from Gerald telling me the exciting news about Geri Ann. He started the call by asking if Gerry had called me. That question scared me because Gerry would not usually phone me on my cell phone. I said no and caught my breath. His next sentence was that Geri Ann was national player of the year. We know that players can be injured and end more than ball careers, and when I heard the name Geri Ann at the first of his sentence, my heart beat harder in total panic. And as he finished the sentence, I suspect it continued beating rapidly in total joy.

Sam was as excited as I was because he and his cousins are very close. His comment was he was not surprised having just read all the statistics when she won the state player of the year. He started citing them. I am not a numbers/statistics person and could not possibly remember them, but the ESPN news release said that during her senior year at Oconee High School, she led the team (38-2) to the Class AAA state title last fall. She posted a 19-0 record with a 0.50 ERA in the circle, while batting .564 with 62 RBI and a state single-season record 24 home runs. It continued, “A four-time first team all-state selection, she struck out 213 batters in 113 innings, firing 13 shutouts and four no-hitters. Glasco set the state career record for home runs (47) and doubles (58) I addition to finishing second in Georgia history with 207 career hits and fourth with 167 RBIs.”

Geri Ann is playing summer travel ball on Southern Force as she has since she was 12. Her father started Southern Force on a shoe string and a dream. Before they joined the staff at the University of Georgia, her dad coached her and then her sister Tara. Gerry is now associate head coach under Lu Harris-Champer, and Tara came on board as assistant coach there last fall. It is not surprising that Geri Ann has signed to play at Georgia. Her sister Erin, who played for Texas A&M when they won second in the NCAA Women’s College World Series, came close to persuading her she needed to go to Texas. Erin is now assistant softball at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. She will be going down tomorrow to attend the banquet in Geri Ann’s honor.

For more on her family, read the ESPN blog at http://espn.go.com/blog/high-school/softball/post/_/id/773/geri-ann-glasco-sticking-close-to-home.

Postscript to Yesterday's Post

The rain came yesterday afternoon, and the rain gauge on our deck said we got an inch and three tenths of rain. We are very grateful. The fields at the other farm also got some of the precious water.

Gerald said Mary Ellen called and told him she did not leave the new house until yesterday morning. She was so pleased She had completely straightened everything and left house in good shape. I believe she may have even got some more painting done. I am constantly impressed with my children and their spouses’ work ethic. (Although I sometimes think they work too hard, I still admire them.)

Talking of work ethic, I am certain that my granddaughter Geri Ann’s recent selection as Georgia Player of the Year award was the result of all her hard work. She has natural athletic ability, of course, and she has had good coaches. Her family supports all her efforts. But she is the one who no matter what or where gets out to the field and has batting and pitching practices.

Changes

The rain did not come. The corn leaves are curling. Today it sprinkled a little, and we were hopeful. Then almost immediately it stopped. We will see what tomorrow brings.

At the end of this week, Jeannie took Sam and Cecelie to stay with her at the Taylors’ new house figuring she could get more done for the wedding up there. The house has a wonderful old traditional barn behind it. Mary Ellen was so thrilled to find that the huge star that Harold and Novella Rix used to hang on this barn every Christmas is still in the barn for them to use.

She and Brian offered the barn to Leslie for the party after her wedding. Leslie or Jeannie--one or the other--gave Mary Ellen strict orders not to paint the barn, which is naturally distressed, and that’s the look they want for their vintage theme. There are a couple of flower boxes on the front of the barn, and Jeannie planted flowers hoping they will be blooming by the time of the wedding. I have never been to a party in a barn before, but I am looking forward to this one.

Friday morning I had just woke up and Gerald entered out bedroom to tell me that Gerry and Vickie had stopped in the middle of the night at a motel in Marion to get some sleep. We knew they were on their way to a Southern Force tourney in Chicago area, where Geri Ann and the rest of the team were already visiting at a team member’s home up there. They said they must get back on the highway as soon as possible, but we were invited to come to town for breakfast with them. We hurried in and enjoyed out visit with them.

We also enjoyed Gerry’s latest story, which he explained to us because of his black eye. Last fall when their rental lease ran out and their daughter Tara and family were moving to Georgia for Tara to take an assistant softball coach position, Gerry and Vickie rented a very large two-story house with a finished basement. Without too much time to contemplate things, the two families decided to live together—the younger family upstairs and Gerry, Vickie, and Geri Ann on the first floor. Bryan planned to look for a job in Georgia, but his Chicago area boss persuaded him to get the right computer network to put in his home office in Georgia and to commute into Chicago when necessary. It has worked out really well for their two families.

One of the things Gerry has commented on before was how the little grandsons often come down and jump on him in bed in the morning to wake him up. He likes that, of course. But the previous day, Gerry was watching out for little 15-month Payton about to jump when 3-year-old Maddux jumped at the same time and unintentionally landed on Gerry’s nose. Tara was watching the boys and laughed—Gerry is the kind of guy who makes people laugh. Gerry said it popped and hurt really bad—Gerry is the kind of guy who would never admit pain. But Payton knew Grandpa was hurt and went running to find Vickie and tell her that Grandpa was hurt. His nose looks all right, but the eye turned black. Naturally, I had to laugh because Gerry is a great story teller; but at the same time, the mother in me is worried about that probably broken nose. But I am sure Maddux will be hearing this story the rest of his life. Gerald said they called from the highway going back home this evening, but there was no time to stop because they had to pick Geri Ann up at the airport in Atlanta.

Jeannie and Cecelie left from Mary Ellen’s house Friday evening to return to Freeport, and Sam went back to his house in Marion. Mary Ellen came down last evening from work to meet up with her husband Brian for the rest of the weekend. Of course, he and the young man who is helping him with the crops, were in the field, so she came over to Woodsong for a late evening visit with us.

After the church potluck in honor of fathers today, Gerald and I went to Mary Ellen’s house. This is quite a treat having her close enough to drop in on. It was surprising how much she has already accomplished up there in the little time she has had to indulge in this her latest project. They had somehow acquired a large amount of furniture at an auction they like to attend, so they have had considerable extra furniture to bring down here. I could imagine all the heavy tugging and lifting that had gone on to get the house nearly furnished so quickly. But they did it, despite the four careers the two of them are keeping up with.

She had to go back to the Springfield area yet tonight because of work tomorrow, so I hope she did not tackle any major endeavor after we left. She claimed she liked having us there, so she didn’t feel she needed to be up and doing. Except for taking us through the house to see the changes, we three just lounged on her comfy couches in the living room and talked. Later when I went by on my way to visit Katherine, however, I saw Mary Ellen out by her car cleaning up something. Although I waved, she didn’t see me as their house is on the other side of the side road parallell to the highway. It is fun having her close enough to causally wave at even if it is only during an occasional weekend. In a large family, there are so many changes with the normal flux of life.

What is so rare as a day...

We have a family wedding coming up on June 23 in our village church, and everyone is quite excited about these nuptials. I expect to have lots of comings and goings here at Woodsong in preparation for the event. In fact, when the Leslie, the bride-to-be, arrived early this afternoon, I was surprised since I had forgotten she was due in—although I looked for her car when I woke up yesterday, when I originally thought she was coming. She was delayed a day because her photographer friend had a photo shoot with her in the park.

As I explained to Leslie, I haven’t been able to keep up with who is in the house. Brian had brought Brianna over and walked through the kitchen as I was preparing noon dinner. I thought he was still downstairs when I called everyone up to eat, but I found out he had left an hour earlier out the front door. So there was still an extra plate on the table when Leslie arrived, and I hadn’t put the food away yet.
Daughter Jeannie and granddaughter Cecelie arrived while we were sleeping yesterday morning. I think around 3 a.m. We enjoyed the day with them. At Katherine’s house in the afternoon, we added Sam; and on the way home from there, a call came to pick up Brianna at the farm on the Pittsburg road, where she had been helping her daddy farm.

From then on, there was lots of chatter and giggling. Brian later picked Brianna up to go to their newest home—the house came with the farm acreage the Taylors bought. Brian and Mary Ellen have already graciously offered it for the bridesmaids’ lodging. Their family is bunking up there on couches when any of them are down here, and they’ve brought down a fridge from their basement in central Illinois. Mary Ellen is trying to get some painting done since she is looking forward to having a chance to redecorate the house, but she had an open house in central Illinois and wasn’t able to come down for her birthday weekend. Brian and Brianna came down after they went out for a family dinner together.

Last night I went to bed with two teens still up chatting. This morning was quiet since Jeannie was already out on her bike when I woke up, and the late night owls Sam and Cecelie were sleeping in. Gerald was taking advantage of the much too dry weather to mow at the Pittsburg farm. Jeannie was in and out as she had an 11 a.m. appointment with our village florist, and she came home all thrilled about their wedding flowers. Soon she and Leslie joined me at the dining room table where I was trying to clean up a scrapbook project mess.

Gerald had a spur-of-the moment opportunity last week to meet up with Gerry and Geri Ann in Memphis and go on to Oklahoma City for the first four games of the Women’s College World Series on Thursday. With no meals to prepare, I decided to get rid of a box of stuff I had saved for years to make Southern Illinois Writers Guild scrapbooks, which are about the only archives we have. I had completed earlier ones years ago, but this box just sat on the floor of my office daring me to throw the contents away. I figured I could complete the project easily before Gerald got home late Friday night, but as those things have a way of doing, the ephemera just seemed to grow and scatter. However, I also had other things to do during these days. After taking most of Saturday and all day yesterday off, I wanted to clear that dining room table. So I finally did today.

Jeannie had finally found her wedding veil safely stored in a very deep hallway closet and it brought down hoping Leslie might like it. Leslie had her mother’s wedding dress remodeled, and she had it with her. We had the privilege of seeing it on her as she tried on the veil. She is going to be a beautiful bride.
The TVs at our house have been turned on to the Women’s College World Series a great deal of the time the last five days, and everyone in the house watched the first game of the championship finals as Oklahoma beat Alabama. The winner must win two out of three games, so tomorrow we will know whether or not a third game as to be played.

Jeannie and Leslie came in from Carbondale, where they had gone to pay for the ordered wedding cake and whatever else they needed to do over there. Brian came to pick up Brianna. I hear noises upstairs now in the kitchen where the youngsters are fixing themselves a bedtime snack. That does not necessarily mean they are about to go to bed, but I am. Sam says there has been some lightning in the sky outside, so I hope the needed rain finally comes tonight.

Life Goes On

Our niece Vicki Sue picked up Ernestine, Leah, and Emerson yesterday afternoon to take them up to the Saint Louis airport. It was sad to see them go, but little Emmy’s antics kept us smiling during the repeated hugs and reluctant goodbyes. While the trunk was being loaded with luggage, Emmy helped me water the flowers again and she had opportunity to tell Jake goodbye there in the driveway.

Probably I am one of the few to use both of Vickie Sue’s names. But when I came into the family, she was called that, and I remember well that beautiful little blonde when she was Emmy’s age. I have persisted in using both her names, however, because before she married Ernie Escue, we had three Vickie/Vicki Glascos in our family. The two spelled “Vickie” even had their medical records mixed up once before our daughter-in-law moved from the region. So I have designated these three “our Vickie” for our daughter-in-law, “DuWayne’s Vickie” for our niece-in-law and Vicki Sue for our niece. It saves time and confusion sometimes to use the designations, and I enjoy the memories of the little blonde that name conjures up for me.

One of the challenges of aging is coping with the piling up of memories on top of each other. Just when I thought I had our large extended family figured out, the children grew up and got married, and new generations came about, and it is now happening yet again. Now I have to think hard sometimes to keep from calling a young woman by her mother’s name. It seems so impossible that little Vicki Sue is a grandmother. Life goes on.

Although we did not get around to having a family reunion during this visit by Ernestine, we did create memories. The Old Homeplace is a pleasant restaurant in Goreville in Johnson County, and it lies between Union and Williamson Counties, where most of our clan lives. Those who could make it met there for dinner one night, and then the traditional brothers’ breakfast was also there. Since their brother Kenny’s death, often the three remaining brothers only fill one table with just them and our sister-in-law Ginger and maybe a nephew or grandchild or two. But quite a few tables had to be put together for the fifteen who breakfasted together on Saturday. Kenny’s son Bryce was there to everyone’s joy, and Ernestine and crew and Vicki Sue had lunched with her Aunt Opal and her cousin Kyna the day before. Life goes on.

Our daughter Mary Ellen was down from central Illinois and was able to make the breakfast. Then after she and Brianna returned from taking Trent to his friend’s graduation party Saturday night, their family was sleeping at the new place they have bought where they had been renting a large building to store their combine this winter. Brian and a young farm hand are still busy farming, but Mary Ellen was using her Memorial Day off to paint some of the rooms in their new Williamson County home.

She and Brianna came over on Sunday afternoon to watch the last day of the NCAA Super Regional softball tournament on television. Because the Saturday 3-2 game had been so very close, and I was convinced that a Georgia player called out at home had really been safe, I expected Georgia to come back and win that second game. This would cause the two teams to play a third game since the tournament winner had to win two out of three games to be one of the eight teams to go on to the NCAA World Series in Oklahoma City.

That is exactly what happened. Senior pitcher Erin Arevalo gave up just two hits to earn a complete game win of 1-0. After Garry and Ginger showed up to say a final farewell to Ernestine and family, there were nine of us in the Woodsong family room rooting for Georgia and getting especially excited when we saw Gerry or Tara. I was up in the kitchen briefly and missed seeing Vickie, Brian, Aidan, and Maddux in the crowd.

Thirty minutes later after our win, the third game was played in that Knoxville heat. The game remained scoreless for four innings. Again Erin Arevalo pitched. Then Georgia scored and we thought the game was ours. But two runs by Tennessee in the sixth inning gave them the game. It broke our hearts for Erin Arevalo, who had given such a stellar performance, to not go back to the World Series as a senior. We could tell it broke all the Georgia players’ hearts and certainly Tara’s. But if anyone beat them, Georgia would want it to be Tennessee, another SEC team filled with friends. Life goes on.

Partly to get our minds off the game, but mostly to please Emmy, we piled into the car and went to Barb and Keith’s for the evening so Emmy could play with their great granddaughter Gracie, who I think had just finished second grade. She was visiting and had brought the three fat little puppies in the house.

Gracie and Emmy were immediately enraptured with each other—Gracie being proud of taking care of Emmy and Emmy delighting in being considered a big girl to play with Gracie. They went into the room Barbara has always used for kids, and wallowed with the puppies on the carpet there. Leah and the rest of us adults were not allowed in there, but ever so often the two little girls would come out either to get one of Barbara’s throws to wrap a puppy in or to show us something, including Gracie pushing Emmy on Barbara’ s fancy walker with the three pups snuggling in its large basket. Of course, Emmy would have stayed forever, but eventually we had to go although we did run by the Cedars’ house one more time so that they could say goodbye to Katherine, David, and Sam.

Yesterday morning was reserved for breakfast, packing, and lunch. There was more visiting when Mary Ellen came over to say goodbye and bring Emmy a stuffed animal gift to remember her trip with, and then she returned to her paint work. Lunch was leftovers from the week, and then the afternoon leave taking took over when Vicki arrived.

Gerald and I had just finished supper, and he’d gone back outside to work. I’d cleaned the supper dishes and gone out on the deck to read and swing awhile. And then three grandkids—Trent, Brianna, and Sam--showed up with the explanation that their mom had evidently had enough of their help with the painting. They were in top form enjoying being together, and were soon swinging on the deck while Gerald and I sat with them in lawn chairs there. After milk and cookies at the kitchen table, they went down to their grandkid den to do whatever they find to do there—always something different—and they also visited my computer to connect with friends before they headed home. Life goes on.

Sumertime Brings Family Visits--Ernie, Leah, and Emmy

Happy squeals, giggles, uninhibited howls of displeasure when the occasion calls for it, and the patter of little footsteps have filled our home this week. It is a pleasant addition to the household to have this tiny little girl, who won’t be three until June 6, making all that noise. With blonde hair, light blue eyes, and an almost perpetual little smile, our great niece Emerson has an interest in everything she sees and a near unlimited amount of energy. Fortunately, she has a doting grammy and an involved mother taking constant care of her as she comes to visit in strange homes and meet all her many relatives here in Southern Illinois.

Ernestine is Gerald and his brothers’ only sister. She and her daughter Leah, haven’t been here from Rock Springs, Wyoming, since Emmy was ten months old. Although there have many adorable phone photos sent since then, of course, nothing is a good as getting to experience this particular slice of Emmy’s childhood.

Raised in a stimulating home and with much time spent with her grandparents in their book-laden home, Emmy knew all about the farm life that her grandmother Ernestine lived as a little girl. So she came here with expectations of horses and cows and feeding chickens—just like she has seen in her books. Since we have none of those animals on our farm anymore, it is probably for the best that she first visited our brothers’ farms before Gerald went to Union County and brought Ernie, Leah, and Emmy up to finish their visit here with us at Woodsong.

At Garry and Ginger’s, there were multiple kittens, and she was taken by Uncle Garry through his fields on his four-wheeler and saw the wheat that bread is made from and fields of corn and soybeans growing in neat rows. It was there that she began to learn she has all kinds of cousins here in addition to the single cousin she has back in Wyoming.

Ernestine’s cousin Judy and husband Morris had a pen of ducks just waiting for a little girl to enjoy, and Keith and Barbara’s place is a veritable paradise for a little animal lover. Ducks and geese and chickens and rabbits abound there. I don’t think Barbara still has terrapins peeking out from under furniture in her living room, and I know the raccoon she once had was long ago released, but Keith’s dog Hash is ready to be petted and will always travel with Keith, who is more than ready to show off his cattle herd. Emmy liked the ones with horns best and has photos to take home to show her family back in Wyoming.

Best of all, perhaps, was Emmy’s trip to Keith and Barbara’s son Tim and wife Glenda’s farm just down the road. In addition to more dogs and puppies, there are horses and an arena there. Just as Emmy was not afraid of any dog including her cousin Sam’s huge golden doodle when she visited Katherine last night, she was right at home in her cousins’ arms on top of a horse.

At our house, she likes Jake, and we have shown her the fireflies, martins, and hummingbirds. Going out into the yard after dark with her grandmother, she wondered for the first time if she needed to be afraid. “What is that noise?” she asked. Ernestine had to assure her that the crickets and frogs down at the lake were not coming up to get her.

She seemingly adjusted to farm life very well because she announced to her mother that farm girls did not need to take a nightly bath. No one is quite sure where she got that information, but she sure looked sweet after that bath with a shiny face, snuggly clean pajamas, and her shiny shampooed hair.

Making money flow to the writer--Kathie DeNosky knows how

Standing at the ironing board pressing Gerald’s short-sleeve summer shirts this afternoon, I mulled over last night’s Southern Illinois Writers Guild meeting and re-enjoyed it.

Our president Cindy Gunnin gave us a very helpful handout and a brief update on a young writer who recently not only had her anthology essay totally changed in serious bad ways but was then scolded by the scam publisher from whom she had planned to buy copies.

Cindy introduced us to James D. Macdonald’s advice, which came about when he became angry over an agent taking advantage of a novice writer. Macdonald called this Yog’s Law, and this rule is one that every writer should hard wire into his/her brain: Money flows toward the writer. That simply means that if anyone ever asks for money to publish you or to be your agent, you know that person is a fraud and not to be trusted.

Not being a science fiction/fantasy reader, I was unfamiliar with the names of Macdonald and his wife Dr. Debra Doyle or the titles of their many books, but actually I had read about some of his efforts to protect writers from unscrupulous publishers and the so-called agents and editors who prey on our desire to be published. Just googling and surfing a bit made me want to know more about these two authors. (Although I read little fiction, I like to know about real people, such as Macdonald and Doyle.)

Cindy Gunnin’s handout was the perfect segue into introducing Kathie DeNosky, our evening’s speaker. Kathie is the author of more than 30 romance novels with a world-wide reading audience who has sold over 30 million books for Harlequin. A life-long resident of Southern Illinois, this former housewife definitely has money flowing in the right direction to allow her to live on her writing career income.

Kathie was generous in sharing her experiences. She spoke of both the bad and good in her life as a well-known writer. (Some negatives were weight gain and shoulder damage from all the keyboard time and getting letters from inmates, which finally caused her to ask to be on the FBI’s no contact list.) Obviously the good outweighs any disadvantages for her or she would not keep writing. It was plain to me that accomplishing her goals has demanded intelligence, talent, perseverance, focus, flexibility, and hard work that many of us lack. I came away impressed not only with her work ethic and determination, but also with her humor, warmth, and the meticulous research that has not only pleased her publisher but earned fans from around the world. I am not a romance reader although I did read her first two books, and they are on the book shelves with my collection of local writers’ books. Again as with Macdonald and Doyle, I found myself delighting in coming to better know this real live writer who is even more fascinating than her created characters.

Kathie admits that when she is up against a deadline and is putting in fourteen-hour days, she gets what she calls “deadline dementia.” She had just the previous morning completed two books she has written since the middle of February. At this point, Cindy reminded Kathie that she had also revised a book during that same exhausting time frame. Now Kathie has until sometime in August to complete her next romance, and she made it clear she is happy to anticipate a slower pace, which will allow her to do some living in addition to writing.

During the eight years she struggled to learn her craft, she wrote four or five romances and collected a slew of rejection letters while doing so. However, once her first book was accepted twelve years ago by Harlequin, she has been in constant demand by them. She quickly secured an agent and turned all time-consuming negotiating over to him. She told her editor then that this opportunity was one she craved and she was willing to work hard to continue producing for them.

She has done that—even through the long illness of her late husband, Charlie, who in her earliest years had served as her business manager. Despite caring for him with medical procedures that I know must have been time-consuming and demanding, Kathie said she kept turning out the contracted books her publisher wanted. She usually writes at night when the phone is not ringing, and if anyone rings her doorbell, she doesn’t intend to answer it anyway.

She knew writing would have to be her career and means of support after she lost her husband, and she forced herself to sit at the computer and turn out books through this difficult time. (Her youngest child had just graduated high school when her first book sold, and although she had enjoyed teaching craft classes in folk art and basket weaving at a local store, she did not want to depend on those skills for her living.) I would imagine writing was also a means to escape the sadness that her husband’s illness caused her.

She admitted the only time she has not written in the twelve years since her first book was published was after his death, as she found it very hard to write of romance when she had just lost the love of her life. Also she was suddenly plunged into the business end of her writing, and she had to file her own income taxes and make crucial decisions on her own. She took the time she needed to grieve and adjust and then returned to the second love of her life—using her imagination to tell stories.

Despite explaining drawbacks in a writing career to us, she was quick to share the joys of working for a traditional publisher who takes care of all the editing, printing, promoting, distributing, and legal aspects of her career. (If someone pirates and posts one of her books online, she will call Harlequin and the post will disappear within the hour.) All she has to do is write. The shelf life of romance novels is extremely brief before they are yanked for return, but Harlequin also puts her books online and translates them and ships them abroad. So she was able to tell us that even her first book has never gone out of print. The royalty checks for it and the others are still coming in--no wonder with her books published in 29 languages.

Her use of time was interesting. She doesn’t like to fly, so when she goes to see her son and wife and two grandbabies on the west coast, she goes by train--in her own compartment with bed and bathroom and her laptop. She has two whole days to write without interruptions before she arrives at her loved ones’ home. (And the same coming back, of course.) By using their location for one of her novels, she is able to sightsee and complete area research in addition to visiting. She schedules spring and fall visits to the Smokies and shuts herself up to write without interruptions while enjoying the mountains and the markets that she loves.
It was there that a friend phoned her that she had made the USA Today best seller list. She thought her friend was kidding, but she went down the street and found the paper and saw her name on the same page as the likes of John Grisham. That she was last on the list did not take away her awe and pleasure, and she later learned she was the first Harlequin author to make the list.

She was open to answer questions from the aspiring writers listening to her. Yes, she could usually complete a book in two or three months. (The shortest time she ever accomplished was three weeks.) At first she sent a synopsis and a number of chapters to show she could write. But since her books sold well, she quickly was able to cut that to a synopsis and three chapters and then one chapter. After selling fifteen or twenty books to Harlequin, she was finally only asked to send them a synopsis, and her editor would say go ahead with it. Most of the books in the line she writes for contain nine or ten chapters. How many pages are in her synopsis? She said usually eight to twelve pages and that becomes her roadmap for the book.

She often concludes with an epilogue because readers want to know what happened in the future. They want a happy ending, and she always gives them that. She gave us a happy evening also, and I am sure some of us went home dreaming of that phone call when a publisher says yes. And instead of being asked for money to see one’s book in print, the message would include that the advance would soon be arriving and money would be flowing in the writer’s direction.

The Whirring of Wings and Whizzing Softballs

The hummingbirds are back. It took a day or two before one must have found the feeders and told their friends. Tonight the air on the lake side of our house was literally alive with birds.

The martins were chirping noisily on the long perches on the monster house Gerald built for them near our deck. Then suddenly they or a group from yet another martin apartment building on other side of our house would take flight. Too many birds to count would fill the air flying up and down and swooping over my head seeming to rejoice at their ability to do acrobatics together in the air.

At the same time, the tiny hummers were flying in and out and onto the feeder in front of me with their whirring wings adding to the twilight bird music. I relaxed after a lovely day of Bible study, worship, and family time until with daylight gradually fading, it became too chilly to linger outside any longer without a sweater.

On Friday, Gerald took the van up to the Rehabilitation Institute to bring Katherine home from Saint Louis, so that her husband David did not have to miss work. Along with a beautiful bouquet and special cake and goodies, David and son Sam had a huge welcome home banner waiting for her as she rolled into the house. She seems considerably stronger.

We were all watching the Georgia Bulldogs play a tremendous game of softball against Alabama, but as soon as possible we left for the farm to see the end of the game there while the Cedar family were together again after two and a half weeks. Unfortunately, despite the tremendous game pitched by Erin Arevalo, one home run left the ending score 1-0 in favor of the Crimson Tide.

That put our Georgia team out of their single elimination Conference tournament, but we were comforted by knowing that earlier that day, our Southern Illinois University Salukis had beaten the number one seed and would be playing for the Missouri Valley Conference championship the next day.

Yesterday after a hurried lunch, phone calls assured us that Mary Ellen and Brianna had arrived from their home in central Illinois and would go with Gerald and me to see SIUC play. They were waiting beside the road at the new farm house their family recently bought to give Brian yet more acreage. MET and Bri jumped in, and we stopped only to leave a car seat at our sister-in-law Opal’s house. That was so our niece Vicki Sue could pick it up and have safe transportation for our great niece Emerson from Wyoming. Vicki picks up Gerald’s sister Ernestine, her daughter Leah, and little Emmie in Saint Louis this coming Friday.

Mary Ellen could not keep from being upset at not being able to take time to visit with her Aunt Opal, who was outside with a plant sale going on opposite her neighbor’s yard sale. But we had to hurry onto Carbondale and the stadium. Gerald dropped us off at the gate and found a place to park while we found seats inside.

What should have been a thrill to see SIUC place second in their conference was diluted by the lopsided score, but we still clapped loudly when that second-place trophy was awarded. That trophy does not come without lots of dedication and hard work by young women who also manage to study and take final exams as well as attending practices. But meeting our granddaughter Erin for pizza at Pagliai’s after their team meeting did soften our disappointment.

We agreed to meet again at Woodsong for lunch today although Gerald would have gladly taken us out to eat for Mother’s Day. But I’m not too enthusiastic about waiting in line at an eatery on a holiday. So I thawed a couple small roasts and stuck them in the oven with veggies before we left for our village church at 9 a.m. The Cedars came out, and I was able to hear a little more of the new therapies that the St. Louis multiple sclerosis doctors are recommending for Katherine. Also good news is the return of a favorite young woman aide from a couple of summers ago, who is moving into their spare bedroom.

Our evening ended tonight when Gerald and I watched the NAAC Selection Show for Division I Softball. The 64 teams in the nation who will be playing in the sixteen Regionals this coming weekend were announced. Number 10 ranked Georgia will be hosting their regional in Athens, and I am sure Erin was happy to see her alma mater Texas A&M ranking 8th and hosting their regional. Our entire family was bound to have been pleased to hear praises for Mel Dumezich at A&M, who is a Southern Force alum, and, of course,for Georgia’s Erin Arevalo. Their whizzing softballs have earned them well-deserved recognition.

Now I suppose the birds are bedded down for the night, and Gerald is as well after falling asleep in his recliner the minute the selection show finished. Probably it’s time for me to also come to the end of a good day as soon as I make the morning coffee.

Just Swingin'

When we planned our house over a decade ago, I thought we would use our deck looking out on our little lake a lot. We and guests do go in and out and stand out there often enjoying the view and the air, but we do not use it as much as I anticipated. Only occasionally do we actually sit and have long conversations out there. It so often seems too hot or too cold if not raining.

I thought Gerald and I might eat out there frequently. We don’t. It is easier and quicker to serve meals inside the kitchen than on the outside table; and when Gerald comes in from outside work, I figure he enjoys the air conditioning inside as we watch the view. We can also watch the birds at the feeder from inside, but the birds would not likely gather there if we were sitting outside.

The birds are one of the things we have enjoyed most about the deck, but they are also one reason we use it less. The bird droppings are not always as attractive as the birds—especially when a splatter hits a newly washed window.

In my imagination, I planned dinner parties for the deck, but except for an occasional picnic meal for grandkids, no dinner parties have happened. I thought I would read out there, but the very first summer we lived here, I kept getting rained out when I tried that and, therefore, never took up the habit.

A friend told me she would sip her morning coffee out there, and it sounded so good that occasionally I do that. This week I have a couple of times. I enjoyed as always the martins swooping by with their lovely aerial ballet. I was reminded it was time to cook up some nectar and put out the hummingbird feeders as I always like having them fly close to my head when I sit in that swing in the summer time. So when Gerald and I shopped at Kroger on senior day Wednesday, I picked up a new feeder on sale to go with the ones I need to get out from last summer. Now I must make that nectar.

I talked by phone with Katherine at the Rehabilitation Institute of St. Louis last night. She asked how her dad was, and I was able to give her good reports since he spent Wednesday going to appointments. First he had a dental appointment and they checked out his new partial with a wax mold. The dentist and his father (who makes the dentures) will refine it further, and Gerald was well pleased. Then he hurried up to Benton to get a part for our son-in-law Brian who is working night and day with the planting right now.

We’d agreed on an early lunch, but Gerald had to eat hurriedly so we could leave for Carbondale for his two appointments there. I traveled along so that I could recycle the stuff accumulated in the garage. I’d packed both the trunk and the back seat of the car the afternoon before with newspapers, cardboard, tin cans, plastic, and glass. I was able to accomplish that unloading task while he was pronounced in good shape by his cardiologist who monitors his atrial fibrillation. I also had time to take my Birkenstocks to Shawnee Trails to be sent off and resoled.

We had a little time before an appointment at The Hearing Place, so we visited the near-by air conditioned McDonnell’s and Gerald treated us with a cup of ice cream and diet cola. I had Darrel Dexter’s book I am reading to entertain myself while he saw John Reimbold, and then we had time for two more errands before we stopped at senior day at Kroger. Gerald helped me get the trunk load of groceries (a month’s supply of many items) inside before we ate the on-sale tacos we’d picked up at a Marion drive-in window. Then he did another task either in his shop or for Brian I cannot remember which. Anyhow I felt the busy day should prove to Katherine that her dad was in good shape.

Today Brian has finished planting our farm and our sister-in-law Opal’s farm, and Gerald is helping him move machinery over to the acres that Brian rents near Harrisburg. Everyone will breathe a sign of relief when all the crops are in for everyone. Of course, by then I think Brian’s wheat crops will need harvesting. Those fields are beautiful right now.

It is a busy time for farmers, but I may go sit on the swing again tomorrow and see if I have attracted any hummingbirds yet.

Longest Game in History

Gerald and I just watched the longest softball game in both Georgia and Louisiana State University history. UGA won 1-0 in the 15th inning. The pitching duel between LSU’s Rachele Fico and the Dawgs’ Erin Arevalo was amazing, and as the announcer said as we watched Game Tracker, neither pitcher deserved to lose.
Until the 10th inning, Arevalo had pitched a no hitter. After the one hit then, she struck out 13 consecutive batters.

Georgia got several hits off Fico, but could not score and kept leaving runners on base. The announcer and everyone thought they had scored in the 14th when a runner came home from third, but then found out the batter was called out for hitting out of the batters box. So the game continued through the bottom half of the inning when Arevalo quickly shut LSU down again.

I was feeling sorry for both pitchers knowing they must be very tired, but the announcer kept saying that Arevalo just got better and better during those last record breaking innings.

There will be another game tomorrow and the next day, so they should be very interesting.

Southern Illinois University Carbondale’s softball team will be observing Senior Weekend at home when they play a double header against Northern Iowa tomorrow and a third game against them on Sunday.

We are hoping all the Dawgs win tomorrow—Georgia Bulldogs and Southern Salukis. In the meantime, Gerald has just put our little dog Jake up for the night, and we are heading to bed here at Woodsong. We are tired from all the excitement.