It's summer time and the livin' ain't easy . . .

We are in the summer swing of things now, and it makes me pant . . . work all week, go away or host events at our wooded garden and pavilion on the weekend. There is a graduation party/pig roast this afternoon in the pavilion (I have no responsibility--just show up)--tomorrow we host a reunion of the canyon river group--a year ago today we were on the river!

We leave early Monday for four days up north, come home, then pick up my sister at the airport Friday and head to the mountains for my family reunion. Second daughter did the planning, but I need to take some responsibility for food preparation. Three of my brothers are coming solo, as well as my sister who is flying in from Kansas--so none of them will bring food. We decided to have a Costco weekend and buy just about everything. But it will still need to be prepared and served. Mother and siblings will pitch in . . . brother-in-law will just have finished his final round of this course of chemo, so don't know how much time they'll be there--we didn't know, when we planned to gather in the mid-state this year (last year we were in Ohio and the year before in Tennessee) that it would be so helpful to him to be close by! One of the siblings suggested spending part of Saturday as a work day at their house . . . we'll see what unfolds. My niece and her family will be coming in from Arizona this year. We haven't seen them for a couple years, and I'm looking forward to spending time with her . . .

The following weekend, an almost-daughter and her family will be here overnight, and all the kids will be here, too. Second daughter has lined up a photographer to take family photos --it'll be one of the last times we're together before second son and his family leave the end of July. The next weekend is a reunion in the mountains for Hubby's family . . . the end of July we host another picnic, August has a picnic, a church service, September has a church campout and a wedding. I'm still waiting for Hubby to say "enough!" Actually he has cut back some . . . must have turned away six weddings . . .

Both second daughter and second son put their homes on the market this month and both sold them in less than a week . . . for that I am grateful. Second daughter bought a single family home with a nice lot (haven't actually seen it, but I know the neighborhood) nearby. It is west of town in an old, tree populated neighborhood. They have settlement July 20. Second son and family will be moving to South Carolina, along with their small group, attending some sort of mission training in preparation for a yet-to-be-determined assignment as a group. I keep forgetting to ask him if there is a website.

Perhaps I'm still in denial. I wonder what my mother was thinking as my sister and her family left for mission work in Africa so many times over the years. There must have been mixed feelings. How to support one's children in their discernment of call and passion when one is not necessarily at the same place . . . that is the challenge!

Rambling thoughts and long ago memories

The obituary in Monday's paper read, in part, "Katie Mae Fisher, 12, of Atglen, died Saturday, June 16, 2007, at Hershey Medical Center after a 6 month illness." Katie Mae had leukemia.

I had never met Katie Mae, but I know her mother Barbara Ann and her grandmother Priscilla. They are members of the Old Order Amish Church. When my youngest son was born, 24 years ago, Barbie Ann came to work for us for awhile, helping with the housework and the care of our other children. We visited in her home a few times, our children playing with Barbie Ann's younger siblings, one of whom was also named Katie.

We moved out of that community a year later, and the following spring, an Amish family rented the farm near us. One day as we drove down the road, we passed the Amish home and three little girls were sitting lined up on the porch. My son, now two years old exclaimed, "Yook (Look) at the Katies!"

Today I fondly remember Priscilla, Barbara Ann and Katie and honor their gentle spirits.

Recently, our work took us to a farm in northern Pennsylvania. The day before our visit, we heard that this family had experienced a fire the week before which destroyed their home. As we drove in the lane, we saw that indeed this was true. There was nothing left of the home, just a big hole in the ground. Large equipment had already cleared the remaining debris, reduced to a smoking rubble partway out the lane.

In conversation with the two daughters who care for the dairy, we learned that all had been lost except the refrigerator, washer and dryer which had been on the back porch. An open sided pavillion provided cover for a picnic table and two benches. Canned food and bottled drinks were stacked under a small canvas tarp. The parents are staying with one of the children, but the two middle-aged daughters are sleeping in the barn on reclinable lawn chairs, "showering" with the hose in the milkhouse. We didn't sleep very well that night, thinking of our friends.

Later in the week we had opportunity to stop by an enormous Cabela's store. We were traveling home from Allentown after a long day and thought we'd get a bite to eat in their cafeteria. Browsing the store, we saw aerobeds on sale, and bought two of them, along with sets of lightweight sleeping sacks.

This week we were again working in northern Pennsylvania. We stopped by the farm and dropped off the mattresses and bedding. Our friend cried. So did I.