Morning Musings

2011 Christmas Greeting

2011-12-05T17:29:00.000-05:00

Hello, good friends and relatives! How fast
the months have flown since last we wrote. ‘Tis time
to be in touch, to send the annual rhyme,
a jaunty update on the year that passed.
Our work continues on the road, though less
than years before. We still enjoy each day
we spend with client-friends and so we say
we’ll keep on traveling for awhile. And, yes,
the days at home are filled from morn ‘til night.
Developing the vineyard’s Larry’s goal.
Though insects, birds and fall rains took their toll,
we gave our very best to do things right!
We can’t predict events that are in store
But count the blessings we are thankful for.

We didn’t stray too far from home, although
the trips we took are memorable. We went
to San Antonio. Four days we spent
with veterinary friends met long ago.
We drove to Outer Banks for family fun.
The birds, the fish, the water and the sand
provided joy for all our merry band.
The days flew by and soon the week was done.
Two weddings gave excuse to travel west
and celebrate with folks from far and near.
We trekked to Pine Creek as we do each year.
With safety in our travels we were blessed.
We’re glad for opportunities like these
and frequently replay the memories.

Our family all are well and working hard
in various endeavors every day.
They share their gifts with us, and I must say
we use our Doc. She’s constantly on guard
to patch us up from falls and stings and more
results from disregarding natural law--
like Larry’s run-in with a table saw,
(this year’s worst “oops” involving blood and gore).
We spoke our gratitude ‘most every day
while watching as his fingers quickly healed.
The wonder of our bodies is revealed
in these experiences, I guess you’d say,
And we affirm with, health and strength reborn,
God’s mercies freely given every morn!

A challenge I have yet to mention here
was offered by my daughters. Could we try
to finish a half marathon? Oh, my!
We did it! Not just once, but twice this year!
The benefits to life and limb abound.
It’s been a pleasant outlet, a great way
to shed all the encroachments of the day
and waken to the beauty all around.
And so in spite of news which would depress,
aware of want and sadness, folks in pain,
we hold to hope that joy and peace will reign,
transforming our surroundings, nonetheless.
We end with one last wish to all held dear—
A Merry Christmas and a bright New Year!

A Story of Letting Go

2011-11-27T15:41:00.001-05:00

Or, alternatively, "How it happened that I once bought a gun for Larry"

I recently told this story to some friends, who encouraged me to publish it on my blog. So here goes.

You must know, of course, that I'm pretty straight forward and not the storyteller some of my friends are. Most of my stories include elements of personal growth. This one is no exception....personal growth and "letting go" but not without elements of humor and irony.

You must also realize how much I detest guns and how difficult it was for me to accept Larry's devotion to hunting. Experiencing the hunting culture of his family and community was quite a shock to me. And so every year, as Larry would take off to the mountains, leaving me at home with children and
animals, I would struggle with resentment and frustration.

Often, of course, something would go wrong while he was gone. Pipes would freeze, animals would get out. Two different years our golden retriever (I'm not a dog lover, so this was HIS dog in my mind) went up to the neighbor's and bit their dog (in our dog's defense, the neighbor's dog was an ugly little thing that probably resembled a ground hog to him). Nevertheless, I struggled with my attitude year after year as Larry would meticulously pack, and by the time he'd finally get out the door I'd be boiling inside.

It didn't help, I suppose, that I would hear stories that just inflated my impressions that hunting takes precedence over EVERYTHING else. For instance, many years ago, one local man was up at his cabin for a couple weeks when one of his sons was born, and his wife sent him a POSTCARD to inform him!

One year, (nearly 20 years ago, I suppose, because the kids were all still at home) I was determined to get past this road block, and so I sat and journaled awhile. Journaling has always brought helpful insights to the fore for me. I came to realize that it wasn't the hunting that bothered me so much, but what it stood for to me....the great white hunter, male privilege, being taken for granted, and the like. Then I
began to compare that list with who Larry actually is, what it is about hunting that is important to him: spending time away with his dad and uncles, (now it's his brothers, sons and grandsons!) just being out in the woods, and yes, a successful hunt and the
resulting venison. I also realized that he had done his best to take care of things here before he left. I also knew that to love someone is to free them to be who they are, not who we would want them to be . . .on and on, you get the picture.

Anyway, I determined that I would let go of my frustrations, let go of expectations, and "let" Larry be who he is and appreciate him for who he is (not that he was going to change anyway!!). So, then, what action could I take to symbolize this shift? How about I buy him a gun for Christmas? That would be a huge surprise! The more I thought about it the more excited I became. Again, not that it was a gun, but the message buying a gun for him would carry. So I asked Reuben what gun his dad would want, and he immediately said, "He's always wanted a .22 Hornet like Grandpa had."

Okay, so I went out to the Trop Gun Shop and sheepishly told the guys there that I knew nothing about guns but that I wanted to buy a .22 Hornet for my husband. I ended up with a Browning. I think they said it was the Cadillac. Whatever. They were quite impressed with me, though, and expressed some envy of Larry. I think they thought I am a pretty
special wife!

Of course, I had to buy the gun in my name, and along with that came a 6 month complementary membership in the NRA! The boys still like to tease me about that.

Larry was surprised and happy. And I've remained free from all the negative stuff that had clung to me for so many years. Here's some more irony. It always seemed that Larry was gone so long, at least a day
longer than he should have been. Now, when I don't care, he often comes home a day sooner than he had originally planned.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!

-- Post From My iPhone

A Bear Tale

2011-07-19T13:08:00.001-04:00

Last weekend members of Larry's extended family gathered at a cabin along Pine Creek in Slate Run, PA, for their annual reunion, its 43rd year. We were a smaller group than usual with several cousins absent; even so, we numbered fifty, circling the yard in numerous tents and campers. Only Larry's 89-year-old mother and two others were in the cabin.

Larry and I take our gooseneck work trailer, put a mattress up top in the neck and sleep in relative comfort. Thursday night I woke to the sound of rustling in the open pavilion nearby. I finally grabbed my glasses and crawled down out of the bunk to investigate. Sure enough, I saw a black bear digging in the trashcan a few feet away. I woke Larry. By the time he got to the door, the bear had ambled down into the yard near another camper. Larry hollered at it, and it left the campsite, walking down the path that leads to the Slate Run General Store. I went out and retrieved our cooler from the picnic table. Two garbage cans were overturned, contents strewn about. It was 2:00 a.m. We went back to bed, though I didn't sleep real well the rest of the night.

In the morning, we learned another chapter. At about 1:45, Larry's brother Don had heard someone digging in one of the ice chests outside his door. The someone was actually the bear, and he chased it away. Evidently the ice chest hadn't been closed properly after the evening campfire foodfest and the bear smelled dinner. The food belonged to Larry's mom. The bear had a feast. It ate her nectarines. It poked a hole in her cookie tin, got the lid off and ate every cookie and whoopie pie. The tin was licked clean, not a crumb remained!

We expected that after such a successful forage the bear would be back again. Larry bought some pepper spray to have on hand. Friday evening Larry and I went to bed around 10. Our kids and their cousins were still around the fire. About 10:30, our son Reuben was yelling outside our door. "Dad! Where is the pepper spray?" Larry jumped down and directed him to the cartridge sitting on the counter by the door and Reuben left. I didn't get up, not wanting to get dressed again.

In the morning we heard the story--a more aggressive encounter than the night before. I wish it were captured on video!

When one of the young women left the fire and went down to her tent, she discovered the bear right by the tent. She ran yelling back to the fire. That is when Reuben came for the pepper spray. With all the commotion, the bear had already gone--temporarily.

About an hour later, after all were in their respective tents, my daughter-in-law heard the bear just outside their tent. She woke Nathan. They, in turn, got Reuben. Reuben chased the bear, pepper spray in hand. As he tells it, the bear ran back and forth a bit, ducking around campers, then headed for the stone fire place located between the pavilion and the cabin. The bear went around the fireplace one way, Reuben went the other, spraying the bear in the face when they met. Reuben says the bear sneezed or snorted a bit, hesitated, rambled along the edge of the bank, then stopped again, this time on the other side of the pavilion near the fire ring. Reuben then picked up a good-sized chunk of firewood and winged it at the bear, giving it a solid rap to the head. The bear then went down the bank, crossed the creek and went up the mountain on the other side.

We did not see it Saturday night.

And that's the story as I heard it!

We did have a good time. All of our children and grandchildren were there. The photo is seven of 17. Larry's mother is on the porch.

The weather was perfect. The creek was too low for tubing, but great for the little ones who could play and wander at will the entire width of the creek.

Levi (10) and Max (8) managed to contribute their specialty again, poor man's lobster. They found about three dozen good-sized crayfish we cooked up and served with drawn butter.

The kids were delighted. I don't care much for shellfish, but Larry said they were good, far superior in taste to crayfish he ate in a restaurant down south, perhaps because these were in a stony river bed rather than mud.

We also saw two eagles, a kingfisher, great blue heron and green heron.

Several of us ran or walked a 5K along the Rails to Trails on Saturday morning.

We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful setting.

-- Post From My iPhone

Christmas Greeting 2010

2010-12-16T19:43:00.004-05:00

Another year is ending . . . Twenty Ten.
As always, what began an empty page
is filled. The ups and downs upon our stage
give content to this missive once again.
Some things were planned, some took us by surprise.
The challenges of age were offset by
the freedom and the willingness to try
a new “If not today, then when?” reprise.
And so between the February storms
we flew to different places, both were grand.
He went to hunt with Don in Kona-land.
She spent the time in Arizona, warm.
What memories we made, what joy to be
with special friends and far flung family.

Spring dawned with added plants and greening vines.
Though lots of work, the vineyard brought a thrill
to Larry, Scott and Steve, who hope to fill
the future with a stock list of fine wines.
July held two reunions with our kin.
The Headings family hiked One Thousand Steps
to honor our beloved Ron, adept
in love and life and gathering people in.
With Kennels we enjoyed the annual ride
to Slate Run and Pine Creek. Fun, food and more!
Kids swim and fish, buy candy at the store.
We bike the trail or visit at fireside.
The gift of family does not dim or fade.
With thankful hearts we savor memories made.

September saw plans rearranged a bit
when Larry got wiped out by a recip.
His fall resulted in a fractured hip.
“A full replacement,” said the doc at Pitt.
Post surgery he lay flat, while miles away
a group of friends and family rallied round
to harvest our first crop of grapes. We found
it quite a humbling thing to see that day.
The trip from Pittsburgh home was not much fun.
But two weeks later, crutches tossed aside,
he went to work and hasn’t broken stride.
You’d never guess by all that he gets done.
As we go forward with our lives, we feel
much gratitude for how our bodies heal.

Some highlights of the “dream come true” design
unfolded for the Mrs. Yes, it’s true.
With Kratzes to Discovery Cove she flew
and swam with dolphins, gift of a lifetime.
In each of two 5K’s she ran her best,
and rode the train to NYC to join
with thousands using feet to raise some coin.
The goal, to banish cancer of the breast.
We’re glad to say our children all are fine.
We celebrate each little girl and boy,
sixteen in all. They fill our hearts with joy.
And every one to whom we send this line
has touched us in some way. We hold you dear
and send best wishes for the coming year.

Steve, Fran, Lily, Logan and Lucas

Reuben, Donna, Levi, Max, Judah, Ori and Gideon

Scott, Sarah, Jade, Colby and Tyler

Nathan, Terah, Bella, Noah, Jeremiah, Evelyn and Ruby

Avon Walk for Breast Cancer - New York 2010

2010-10-21T09:16:00.011-04:00

The 2010 New York Avon Walk for Breast Cancer is history. What an inspiring and memorable event! Nearly 4000 walkers, numbers of whom are breast cancer survivors, raised over $9.4 million dollars to fund research and to help provide treatment for those who need it.

Donations from my family and friends contributed $2655 to this amazing result. The commitment of women and men of all ages was almost too much for me to absorb. Reading the signs and t-shirt messages made the statistics quite personal and often brought a lump to my throat or tear to my eyes.

"Walking for Mom". "Walking for Nana". "Walking for Auntie Jess". One man was walking for his grandmother and FOUR aunts! Another woman told me she lost her best friend and vowed to walk until there is a cure. This was her tenth year walking.

There were hundreds of volunteers who marked the routes, staffed rest stops, provided medical aid, prepared food, helped us set up our tents and transport luggage, or worked in traffic safety at busy intersections. This biker, along with several others, not only volunteered, but added a touch of humor in showing support to the walkers.

Sponsors provided food, supplies, and foot and back massage at the end of the day. It was a huge undertaking, well planned and orchestrated.

Our walk began at 4:15 a.m.Saturday morning. Here we are on the subway, headed for the starting point, Hudson Pier 84.

We gathered with thousands of walkers, deposited our luggage in the appropriate truck, and grabbed some coffee.

Here we are, ready to go!

We began by walking along the Hudson River.

We walked along at a pretty good pace . . . we were at Mile 9 by 9:38 a.m. and we were at the lunch stop by 10.

We were often greeted and cheered on by supporters standing along the route. We saw this couple at at least three different spots during our 26 mile walk.

Saturday evening we joined hundreds of walkers in a tent city on Randall's Island.

We won't soon forget that experience, as we tried to pitch our tent in very blustery wind with no tent stakes provided! Later in the day, one of the men fashioned makeshift pegs out of a medium grade wire. Only then did we feel free to leave the tent!

Sunday morning sunrise along the East River.

Crossing the finish line! A bit sore and feeling our age after 26.2 miles, but exhiliarated to accomplish our goal!

Many of us stayed for the closing ceremony. The speaker was celebrity Suze Orman, one of the event's biggest fundraisers.

In it to end it . . . because every statistic is someone's best friend.

August letter

2010-08-21T09:56:00.001-04:00

This is a slightly edited version of my August letter sent to the Headings family:

The last month has been slow for embryo work, almost non existent, actually. We did have work this week, and we have now scheduled some things into September, for which we are grateful.

In the meantime, we didn't have trouble finding things to do! Larry has been working hard in the vineyard. We are grateful for Scott and Steve's help. It looks like we will have a nice crop this year. Normally it would be another year before harvesting grapes, but we had such good growth and established the vines so well last year, that we were able to let fruit on. I think we will be selling most of this year's crop, as we just aren't yet prepared to handle them. Another source of huge frustration for Larry is that we learned recently that the nursery sent us the wrong grapes last year . . . pinot noir instead of merlot. We do not have the optimal growing season for pinot. This means we will need to replace vines, losing two years of production and labor. A consultant for the nursery is coming next week to confirm this mistake, and then we will need to figure out what we do from there and what compensation we might expect. Sarah took some pictures for us this week. If you want to see what the vineyard and grapes are looking like, check out her website at www.littlemomentsbysarah.com/Grapes

A couple weeks ago Larry and I spent about four days up at the house/cabin. It was pleasant to be there, so peaceful! We have known since the first summer that there are bats occupying the attic and that we wanted them out! But how best to do that was the problem. We do want to have them around, just not in the house. So, while we were there, Larry spent three days building a large bat house (a bat condo, really!) out behind the garage. This week, enroute to a client in New York, we stopped overnight. Larry had discovered a simple "bat exclusion device" which would allow the bats to get out, but not back in, a 10 inch long piece of 2-inch in diameter PVC pipe. Up on the porch roof we went, fitted the pipe to the crack in the soffit, taped it securely with duct tape, as well as taping carefully along the remaining crack. That evening we sat out in the yard and waited . . . about eight o'clock, bats started dropping out through the pipe. We quit counting at 56! The next morning, at six o'clock, we went over to the bedroom window nearest that soffit. What we saw was amazing. Bats were swarming up to the taped soffit, trying desperately to get back in. They didn't! But I almost felt sorry for them. Their anxiety was obvious! They would fly in, scurry along the tape, drop away, fly in, feel along the tape, drop away. Oh, well, they do have a lovely condo waiting, if they are interested. I took a video. What a scene. We want to get back up soon and permanently seal the soffit, assuming all the bats have vacated.

Reuben and Donna were at the beach last week. Reuben and the boys stayed here one night on their way back home (Donna stayed another couple days along with some friends). Larry took Judah down to the ChooChoo Barn to celebrate his birthday (just a bit late!!) I took Bella to the Pottery Works one day last week to celebrate her birthday. She starts back to school in first grade soon.

This week is significant, isn't it [Note: a year ago on the 18th is when my younger brother died unexpectedly of a heart attack] . . I know we have all been thinking about Ron, as well as Jill, Holiday, Meredith, Devaron and Shae. May we continue to be inspired by Ron's life!

On Sunday, our church will have services here in the grove and a fellowship meal. That's always a fun time. Our church family suffered quite a blow two weeks ago when we learned, during the service, that one of our own, Glen Lapp, was one of the ten workers gunned down in Afghanistan while on a medical mission in a remote area. The intensity of loss we all experienced in this community reminded me over and over about the many, many losses that families have experienced in Afghanistan and Iraq, and other places around the globe....each life special, each loss leaving a huge hole in a family and community. It is sobering.

The end of September several of us are going to Pittsburgh to participate in a 5K "Great Race". I'm looking forward to being back in Pittsburgh . . . we have lots of good memories of that city!

In October, as some of you know, I plan to join a good friend in NYC for a two-day "marathon and a half" 39 mile walking event called Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. If any of you want to honor someone you know that has experienced breast cancer, a (tax-deductible) donation at my web page will get their name printed on my T-shirt! http://www.avonwalk.org/goto/Marilyn.Kennel
I have to commit to raising $1800 to walk, and I've set a goal of $2000. I've never done fundraising before, but almost everyone knows someone touched by this awful disease. I can name five people without having to stop and think about it. My T-shirt list already includes a sobering number of honorees and memorials....

If you have nothing better to do, here are links to online photo books of summer 2010 Headings and Kennel family reunions....

They are long links so you may have to copy and paste although they show up as live links in my program:

Headings book with special memorial event is at:

http://preview.picaboo.com/Webview/CoverPage.aspx?album=000000000007B12F0D&user=0000000000002725C7

Kennel book is at:

http://preview.picaboo.com/Webview/CoverPage.aspx?album=000000000007C2DB5C&user=0000000000002725C7

-- Post From My iPhone

Book Review: The Help

2010-08-06T19:12:00.002-04:00

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is the first book I've read in a long time that I absolutely didn't want to put down. Part of the fascination is that the setting (Mississippi, 1963)is one I know little about. I remember the Civil Rights movement from a northern perspective. This book gives a glimpse into what it might have been like to be a "colored" domestic, as well as the consequences for a young woman who challenged societal norms.

View all my reviews >>

Book Review: A New Kind of Christianity, by Brian D. McLaren

2010-08-05T15:37:00.002-04:00

The past fifteen years have found me becoming more and more uncomfortable in the presence of those preaching or espousing a traditional Christian theology. I get down right squirmy, followed by a churning knot in the pit of my stomach. I haven't always been able to articulate why.

McLaren's book is one of several I have read in recent years that have helped clarify what I seemed to be growing into instinctively. Something about the "gospel" I was taught just doesn't seem like good news. Previous books I've read and reviewed (If Grace Is True by Gulley and Mulholland, and more recently, Thank God for Evolution, by Michael Dowd) move in a similar direction, though perhaps with broader language and metaphors.

McLaren stays closer to traditional Christian language. What he adds that was helpful for me was the exposure of the Greco-Roman paradigm which has shaped and distorted both the Hebrew image of God and the role and message of Jesus. His metaphor of Bible as Constitution or Bible as library was also helpful.

At this point in my journey, I can only embrace a spirituality that is willing to explore and practice faith in the manner of McLaren.

Another book read

2010-08-03T17:11:00.000-04:00

In June I ran my first 5K ever and I ran in Tevas. You ran in Tevas? Yes, Tevas. Only my nephew who is into barefoot running thought that was cool.

"So," I asked him, "what kind of minimalist running shoes do you recommend? "

"Vibram FiveFingers," was the unhesitating reply. So I bought a pair and have been jogging in them ever since. I also wore them to climb a mountain and plan to run another 5K in September.

In the meantime, that same nephew sent me a book he wanted me to read--Born to Run, by Christopher McDougall. I just finished it. I found it to be an interesting mix of history, philosophy, physiology and story. The facts as presented reinforce my long held biases about conventional wisdom related to the superiority of technology and medicine, and how scientific discovery is misused and manipulated in the service of power and greed. That's a mouthful, I know, but it is my perspective based on many years of observation and experience.

I am encouraged in my new found interest in running. A comment from the book: "we don't stop running because we get old, we get old because we stop running". Hmmm. This may be my best decade yet!

-- Post From My iPhone

Book Report: Have a Little Faith: a true story, by Mitch Albom

2010-05-22T09:25:00.004-04:00

This is a great little book about faith, hope and the goodness of the human spirit across religious traditions. His lifelong rabbi asks Mitch to deliver his eulogy. Stunned, Mitch decides he'd better spend a bit of time getting to know him. This leads to eight years of wonderful conversation full of wisdom and joy. This story is juxtaposed with the story of an African American's life and how he came to be a minister to the homeless in Detroit. It's a moving and heartwarming book. Highly recommended!

Book Report: Thank God for Evolution, by Michael Dowd

2010-04-26T09:54:00.004-04:00

Last week, Larry and I finished reading the above book. It took us a couple months to read for several reasons: 1) It is an extensive and thought-provoking work, 370 pp. with fairly small print; 2) we only read while traveling for work; 3) we paused half way through for some lighter fare.

For me, this is one of the most transformative books I've read in recent years . . . definitely equal in influence to If Grace Is True, which I wrote about in an earlier blog. Dowd presents the entirety of cosmic evolutionary history as sacred story, one that continues to emerge, guided by Divine Reality, an ongoing story of which each of us is a part.

He honors the traditional sacred stories by nesting them within a larger story, reinterpreting them in refreshing and life-giving ways. Larry and I laughed out loud, for instance, when Dowd related his present application of his Pentecostal "speaking in tongues" gift. Nothing of our heritage is discarded, all has value when understood in its context, and REALized for the present. (Dowd's definition of REALize is making otherworldly religious concepts real in the world of our actual experience.)

Dowd finds the evolutionary paradigm useful in observing all areas of life . . . cosmic, biological, societal, cultural, physical, moral, spiritual, ethical, psychological, technological. There is no aspect of our lives that is not moving and evolving. All is interwoven and interdependent, moving forward together.

He calls us to commit to lives of integrity, humility, authenticity, responsibility and service to the Whole. Moving beyond post-modern relativism, Dowd insists that we can "once again speak boldly and prophetically about right and wrong, and do so without appealing to ancient texts... A thing is right if it helps individuals and collectives to grow in trust, authenticity, responsibility, and service. A thing is wrong if it tends otherwise."

The ethics of Jesus have always been important to me. Dowd's call to living with integrity embraces these practices at a depth missed or ignored by many self-proclaimed Christians in America today.

In years past I've been troubled by the insistence that we "believe in faith" that which we can not understand. It seemed that to be a good Christian, one had to check one's brain along with one's coat in the church vestibule. How wonderfully refreshing to be invited to observe and learn of God's ongoing revelation with all the gifts we have been given!

I challenge anyone to read the book in its entirety. You may not agree with all of Dowd's ideas, but you will certainly be invited to see our beautiful world in new and sacred ways, and to embrace your life with joy and integrity.

Brief book review

2010-04-08T21:26:00.001-04:00

I recently finished reading Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen. I'm glad I didn't buy it. I thought it was mostly fluff, a mixture of adolescent humor, dissing her family and trashing her heritage with a few of her insights (nothing new) thrown in at the end.

Perhaps I'm too hard on her. Perhaps my response says more about me than about her. So be it.

Anybody want my copy? First come first served. It was given to me and I'll be happy to pass it on!

-- Post From My iPhone

A Little Change of Pace

2010-01-21T11:38:00.004-05:00

This is my January family letter, and I thought I'd post it here as well. Some of my friends may find it of interest . . .
---
It has been a busy and eventful time around here, though our embryo transfer work is modest in this economy and at this time of year. Even though slow, it has been steady, and we are paying our bills with gratitude!

The relaxed pace is something Larry and I both enjoy. He continues to keep busy with vineyard and winery planning. There are plans for converting the barn into the winery and tasting room. There is also the zoning and licensing process. He has spoken with the zoning officer, and turned papers over to an attorney in preparation for the approval process. The current project is to get the vines pruned, hopefully before the end of the month. He has also spent quite a bit of time trying to find some of the vines he wants to plant this spring . . . he had ordered last year, but was recently notified by the nursery in California that there was a problem with the grafts and they won't be available. He doesn't want to lose another year of projected production so . . . we'll see.

I seem to keep busy as well. I wonder where the days go. Well, I know they often start at a slower pace, with a little reading or journaling, writing email and checking facebook! There is still office work and data entry, and lab catch up that I can hear calling if I bother to listen! Currently the squeaky wheel is getting all the 2009 stuff ready for the accountant who shows up on Monday. We also enjoy having the children and grandchildren drop by . . . what a blessing that they are so close by!

Larry and I felt quite privileged on Christmas day, as our children who live locally each invited us to visit. We had brunch at Fran and Steve's, a mid-day feast with Nathan and Terah, and supper at Sarah and Scott's! A first for us, and very special.

We enjoyed having our family Christmas gathering down at Fran's on January 2. Reuben and Donna and the boys stayed with us, and it is always fun to have them here. What a fun time at Fran's!

The older grands enjoy being together and they were off at various corners of the house entertaining one another.

We had one nasty misfortune when little Ori, toddling toward his daddy, dived into the stone hearth of the fireplace. He got a cut and a nasty bruise on his forehead.

Seems Fran and derma-bond are required companions at our family gatherings lately.

Starting last summer, we decided to spend a day with each of the older grandchildren for their birthday. I took Jade to the Strasburg Railroad in August. In September, Levi and Larry went to Clyde Peeling's Reptileland. Max and Larry went fishing in October. This month was Noah's turn. He and Larry spent an afternoon at the Farm Show. We think they are having fun and we hope we are creating some good memories!

Mother and I are planning a trip to Phoenix early in February. Yes! This "dream" trip evolved quite unexpectedly for me. In fall of 2008 Larry was part of a team from the American Embryo Transfer Association who planned a good will and promotional trip to Russia. Tickets were purchased. Then there was a political episode in Georgia, and the trip was cancelled. We "ate" the tickets, so to speak, but after some negotiation, Larry was given a non-transferrable voucher for most of the costs. The team went back to Russia this fall, but for various reasons, Larry decided not to accompany them. So he has this voucher to use. When his brother Don was here from Hawaii in November, he encouraged Larry to visit, saying that American Airlines flies into Kona. Since now is a slow time, Larry has decided to go to visit Don. He will also be doing some hunting with Kimo (you may remember us telling about the young man who stayed with us while helping put the roof on the barn/winery and had the accident with his ring finger). I was welcome to join him, but decided I'd rather visit my sister in Phoenix, as well as two dear friends, one in Yuma and one in Tucson. I've also contacted a high school friend who is also in Phoenix. In talking with my sister Christine, she mentioned how much she'd like Mother to visit. So it turns out that I will drive to Ohio on Friday, Feb. 5, then Mother and I will fly to Phoenix together. The dates are Feb 7-15. (Larry's flights are Feb 7-16). I am looking forward to another memorable experience! It feels like such a gift when "wouldn't it be nice" becomes a reality!!

Our church has been without a lead pastor since last August. The chosen candidate was with us last weekend and the congregation had various opportunities to meet her and her family. A vote is scheduled for this weekend and I fully expect her to receive strong affirmation. She seems like a good fit with our faith community. Are we getting old when the new pastor graduated from LMH with our daughter? :-) Yes, she grew up in this area, but has lived in Pittsburgh and Atlanta during her adult years.

I am looking forward to this Saturday afternoon, when a delightful mix of my friends are coming for a lia sophia show (led by Sarah, of course!). We will have some food, Larry is providing a selection of wines for sipping, a couple of the spouses are coming along and will keep him entertained. It's an excuse for a party!! (Shameless promotion: it is also the best sales deal of the year for anyone who enjoys lia sophia jewelry. Buy one at regular price and get TWO MORE EXPENSIVE items at half price!! If any of you want to check it out, go to http://www.liasophia.com/sarahhaines where you can view the catalog, or email Sarah at hainessc@gmail.com and she can help you.) We didn't grow up encouraged to wear jewelry, but as I've gotten older and freer and had daughters who enjoy pretty things, I have begun to enjoy wearing jewelry too!

The last weekend of January, as has been our tradition for 25 years, we will be going to Spruce Lake for the winter weekend retreat with folks from Etown Mennonite where we were members for many years. We look forward the opportunity to re-connect with these friends who have been an integral part of our lives and with whom we share many memories. The trip up and back with Irvin and Kathy Peifer is always fun, and the Saturday afternoon hike to the top of the mountain is also a highlight. It should be a bit easier for me this year, as I have fewer pounds to drag along!!

As I come to the end of this letter, along with gratitude for the many good things in our lives, I am sobered by an awareness of many who are suffering. Not only the international horrors of earthquakes and war, which are of a scope beyond my ability to comprehend, but the devastating consequences of each individual loss we have experienced in our own communities. There have been several deaths among our church family in the past couple weeks. We are aware of the added loss for Jill and her sister. There have been more diagnoses of serious illness among our circle of friends. And so we hold all these things together, suffering and joy, grief and celebration, grace and mercy and love.

And the greatest of these is love,
Marilyn

Synchronicity

2009-12-29T10:09:00.002-05:00

In the Artist's Way, author Cameron writes about synchronicity ..."a fortuitous intermeshing of events." In the artist's context, she notes and expects synchronicity. . . as one begins the process of creating, unexpected resources become available enabling the process, one's Creative Muse cocreates with the artist. One receives what one needs.

There is another application I identify as synchronicity, i.e., receiving a similar message from different sources in close proximity. I had that experience last week as I finished reading two books, different contexts, different cultures, yet with similar conclusions. The first was The Infidel, by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. The other was Mel White's Stranger at the Gate. I had read White years ago (forgetting all but the broadest message of course). The book was recently offered to us by a friend, and so I read the book out loud to Larry this past week in our work travels, completing it within a day of completing the other.

Ali is a Somali woman of Islamic heritage, an advocate for women's rights. She became a Dutch citizen and member of Parliament, and is now in the United States, partly for her protection. It was her film "Submission", that led to the assassination of the producer, Theo van Gogh a few years back.

Stranger at the Gate by Mel White is a memoir of his experience being gay and Christian in America. He spent many years in the closet, active in fundamentalist and right wing Christian circles, a ghost writer for all the biggies, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson and Billy Graham, among many others. Several of these books were best sellers. He wrote speeches, produced films, was involved with Youth for Christ, a pastor and professor at Fuller Seminary, all the while spending thousands of dollars on "ex-gay" therapy and "Christian" counseling, praying and pleading to be healed and delivered from his homosexuality, even getting shock therapy, all to no avail, leading to despair and brushes with attempted suicide. In the early 1990's, with the support of his dearly loved wife and family, he ended the deception, the secrets, and came out. He became a pastor and advocate for Christian gays via Metropolitan Community Church and Cathedral of Hope in Dallas. Of course his former clients/friends have nothing to do with him. His book is an interesting and compelling commentary, as relevant today as it was in 1994 when published.

When Ali comments about Islamic fundamentalism and rigid interpretation of scripture she could be speaking about Christian fundamentalists and the religious right as well ... both lead to suffering and persecution and death of those who would dare to differ from the orthodox belief and practice. Both White and Ali experienced the suffering that results from a rigid interpretation of their respective scriptures. Both had to deconstruct the religious teachings of their childhood. Both tell tragic stories of the physical torture and death of acquaintances and friends. Both tell their own stories of personal struggle. Both expose the agenda of their respective fundamentalist interpreters and the radical right in clear and certain terms. Both offer the average American Christian the opportunity to view orthodoxy through a different lens.

At the same time I read these books, I observed once again our cultural obsession with the Christmas season. I am not drawn to the sounds and sights of Christmas. I am not inclined to worship at the manger. It is the man Jesus who has meaning for me. His relevance is centered on his declaration of mission, "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor, He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19) I am also drawn to the justice passages of the Hebrew prophets . . . "What does the Lord require but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8) and again from Amos,"Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!"

These Biblical challenges, in tandem with the personal stories told by Ali and White, give me pause. But what have I done to further the cause justice in my world?

2009 Christmas Greeting

2009-12-15T17:51:00.004-05:00

Hello, dear friends and family, it’s that time
when we reflect on months gone by and choose
a few events to highlight Kennel news
by crafting them to speak in rhythm and rhyme.
No bouncy poetry for me this year.
Sometimes I feel I’m mired in Advent’s theme
of darkness, grief and loss. Were it a dream
I’d gladly wake, make way for Christmas cheer.
For sure, our year has been the usual mix
of fun, new life, and laughter. Still a cloud
has threatened to envelop like a shroud
with pain-filled situations we can’t fix.
No matter the specifics we still say
that gratitude and Love have hemmed each day.

The New Year dawned ‘mid war and much unrest,
the economic future an unknown.
So many suffer, life pared to the bone,
but in the midst we know that we are blessed.
The sun still greets the day with warmth and light,
reminding us of mercies ever new.
The rain refreshes, as does morning dew,
inviting us to walk by faith, not sight.
Our children and grandchildren bring a thrill.
We look in little eyes and sense their joy
and curiosity, each girl and boy
an eager, open heart that we can fill.
What privilege we have, and this we say
that gratitude and Love have hemmed each day.

Yet oft’ we’ve taken note through circumstance
that life and death marched forward side by side,
a cycle that can never be denied.
Unwelcome partners, they are Dirge and Dance.
The Kennel and the Headings fam’lies had
some festive times. The memories are dear--
more precious when soon after, I do fear,
we got a call, this time the news was bad.
My younger brother, Ron, had passed away,
a sudden loss that makes no sense. We mourn.
He touched our lives, and still our hearts are torn,
his death, a myst’ry dimming thoughts to grey.
And yet with certainty of heart, we say
that gratitude and Love have hemmed each day.

The dance of life goes on with good news, too.
Our children all are active, doing well
with work and play and stories fun to tell
of toddler antics, stunts the kiddies do.
The year brought growth upon our fam’ly trees.
How joyfully we welcomed each new birth.
Two gifts from God, and who can say their worth?
The future will be shaped by such as these.
The first was Evelyn Grace, her birth a thrill
to Nate and Terah, Bella and the boys.
And then came Lucas James, he added joys
at home with Steve and Fran, Logan and Lil.
We count our many blessings and we say
that gratitude and Love have hemmed each day.

Our projects kept us home —more work than play
with one or two exceptions. In the fall
the AETA met in Montreal
and we delighted in our time away.
A vineyard now is growing on our hill.
The hours of labor Larry, Steve and Scott
devoted brought results. The barn has got
a new roof, too. More time is needed ‘til
a total transformation is complete.
We’ll stay in touch. You’ll be the first to know!
Meantime, we’ll keep on working, on the go.
We think to work for friends is quite a treat.
As we reflect and end this note, we pray
That gratitude and Love have hemmed YOUR day!

To pray or not to pray . . .

2009-10-24T09:54:00.005-04:00

Comments around a recent face book status have provoked further reflection. I wrote, "Because not everyone is spared harm, does that mean it is disingenuous to pray for safety and gratefully claim divine protection when we have been spared? What is the underlying message heard by those who are suffering [when we claim an experience of Providential protection]? Something doesn't sit quite right if we say God is personally loving and interested and drawing each of us to greater wholeness and well-being, but can't acknowledge that care because someone else might have had a different experience."

So, back to the age old question, to pray or not to pray. Does prayer make a difference? Here is a flow of consciousness from my morning journal:

Prayer for me is this quiet time, writing in my journal, listening in the silence. Breathing in, breathing out. Letting go of things I can't control. Trusting there is a Spirit of love, well-being, goodness, a stream working to right the universe, knowing that I want to align myself with that greater good. A centered feeling of "all shall be well."

I do not know how the fields of energy around us work, whether they are measurable or not, whether they are physical or spiritual, whether they are angels or Spirit or electricity or light waves. It is our human nature that longs to quantify, touch, label. The spirit longs for resonance with the Spirit within, to learn the language of the unutterable, the indescribable, mystery, seeks a "knowing" that is deeper than any words and language, preceding, interceding, all encompassing. A glimpse of the Holy.

It seems a risk to speak of these sacred moments. To bring them from the beauty of our inner sanctuary to the outer world exposes them to the intellect where we examine them with the critical lens of our limited human understanding, a bit like casting the proverbial "pearls before swine." Touches of the Holy may be tarnished by our doubt, our questions, our skepticism.

In recent years I have been drawn to the thought that I am a spiritual being on a human journey (rather than a human being on a spiritual journey). I continue to ponder the implications of such a perspective and find it a helpful paradigm to understand my dissonance with values of the surrounding culture. How to live in the world but not of it--a question that goes back at least to Biblical times if not before . . . leaving a meaningful footprint, not denying our humanity, finding ways to be fully human, yet having a self-identity that is immeasurably more.

So then, whether or not prayer moves the universe, prayer changes me. It is my favorite hour of the day, the source of well-being, centered contentment and deepening joy.

I Just Don't Get It!

2009-09-08T10:08:00.000-04:00

After many interruptions and distractions over the past several weeks, this morning I finished reading Barack Obama's book, Dreams from my Father. I found it interesting, enlightening and insightful as he reflected on many of the experiences of his childhood and young adult years, culminating in a visit to his father's home and family in Kenya. Why are so many people afraid of him and his leadership? I don't get it!

-- Post From My iPhone

And my world shifted

2009-09-02T10:39:00.006-04:00

My brother died two weeks ago and my world shifted. Life is not the same. Awareness is not the same. I am intensely conscious, every moment, that Ron, as I knew and experienced him, is gone. Gone. No more strong, welcoming hugs. No more wry grins or twinkling eyes. No more wisdom shared in terse one-liners. Ron as we experienced through our five senses is no more. So then, what remains of this man we all loved?

Joan Chittister writes, "People return to us after they die--not in body, but in essence. Then we see most clearly who they were." What is the essence that remains? Is it simply found in our memories of him, or is it more? Is it his spirit, the unique life-energy that he embodied? In any case, how does one best integrate that essence in meaningful, positive and, perhaps, healing ways?

I do not find traditional religious belief systems to be of much help. So many of those constructs seem like the result of our own needs and desires--God seen in our image, heaven as a physical place for autonomous beings and relationships.

Over recent years I've been drawn to an expanding image of God as Spirit, Energy, Love, Mystery--an ever present, vital, life-giving and life-sustaining force, present yet unseen. Is Ron's essence now part of that invisible energy flow?

Is it coincidence that as I ponder these questions, longing for deeper enlightenment and meaning, for expanded understanding and experience of God, that a recent sermon would touch on these very themes--God as creative energy, spiritual electricity, source of our creative essence as explored in The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron?

For several years, while a participant in Kairos: School of Spiritual Formation, my daily prayer was "Unite my life with yours, O God, transform me as you will." Yet the prayer became dry and lifeless, blocked by some undefined barrior, abandoned to daily reality. But not forgotten. And now, with my brother's death, the longing returns, a deep soul cry for knowing; and the resulting world shift provides an altered point of entry. The Artist's Way suggests mystical union through opening oneself to creativity, to partnering with the Great Creator. It seems like an invitation to explore, a Divine response to my earlier prayerful pleas.

Let us see where this process leads.

Machu Picchu - 1978

2009-08-05T09:38:00.008-04:00

This summer, some friends of ours visited the ruins of Machu Picchu, Peru. In 1978, Larry and I spent a month in Peru as guest helpers with Wycliffe Bible Translators. Most of that time we were in Yarinacocha, a base in the jungle near Pulculpa. Before we left Peru, however, we had the opportunity to visit Cusco and Machu Picchu.

We flew into Cusco from Lima. Early the following morning, we left Cusco for a 3.5 hour ride on the local train to Machu Picchu. Arriving at Machu Picchu, we ran from the train to waiting buses, managing to get on the first bus up the mountain to the ruins. As the pictures show, the stonework was amazing, both in the buildings and in the terraces.

Encouraged by our friends in Wycliffe, we decided to climb Juana Picchu, the tallest of two mountains overlooking Machu Picchu, seen in the background. According to my journal, it was quite a hike over to the mountain, and quite a hike up. The path was steep and narrow, mostly of stones hewn into the side of the mountain. Up, up, up, for about an hour and a half.

On the train from Cusco, we met two women from Michigan. They also climbed Juana Picchu.

This picture, taken from the vantage point of Juana Picchu, is the road from the train station in the valley up to the ruins. As you might imagine, it was quite a ride, especially as the bus negotiated each hairpin turn!

At one point, the path went through a cave.

This is a view of the ruins of Machu Picchu from up on Juana Picchu.

This is a picture of Larry and me at the top . . . nothing there but sky and a huge rock.

The hike down took about half an hour and we got back to the ruins without incident. Only later did we hear stories of people who had fallen off the path never to be found . . . The train ride back to Cucso was a bit over four hours. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for us.

If you build it . . . part II

2009-08-01T14:38:00.009-04:00

In April, we planted 3150 grapevines. It's time for a photo update . . . then until now.

This is how each newly planted vine looked . . . a single, waxed graft.

Within three weeks the grapes were growing, and so were the weeds. We cultivated them twice using an old tobacco cultivator. We also pruned them for the first time, nipping off all but two or three shoots, and any tiny bunches of grapes.

And that was just the beginning . . .

Anchors were placed at the ends of each row, augered in using a post hole digger attachment.

End and line posts were driven in using a vibrating pounder which the guys rigged up to a skid loader.

A pencil rod was placed at each vine.

The vine was fastened to the pencil rod with plastic banding.

We purchased a grape hoe to cultivate the growing vines.

The hoe has a sensor that detects the pencil rod and swings out around each plant, then back into the row.

Last week the guys strung the fruiting wire in each row. It is attached to the end posts and to each line post.

Each pencil rod is clipped to the fruiting wire.

The plants have been hoed and pruned again. There is only one stalk remaining. It will become the main trunk for the maturing vine.

The vineyard now. It is a beautiful thing to see!

Reflections: If Grace is True

2009-07-28T10:00:00.005-04:00

Recently I've felt a nudge to publish some journal entries previously kept private or shared with a few like-minded friends. This reflection, written a few months ago is one of those pieces.
***
I've just finished reading the book, If Grace Is True: Why God Will Save Every Person, by Philip Gulley and James Mulholland, for the third time! I've been asking myself a question . . . what is it about my own experience that makes the message of the book so compelling to me?

As a child, I heard mixed messages--I heard "God is love", sang "Jesus loves me" and "Jesus loves the little children of the world" but I also heard sermons about hell and damnation for those who didn't accept Jesus as their Savior, who didn't believe [i.e., as we believed, didn't have the truth, as we did]. I could never quite understand why, if love were stronger than hatred, if we were to overcome evil with good, as we nonresistant Mennonites were taught, why we continued to promote salvation using fear, proclaiming the terrors of hell, offering escape from eternal torment rather that inviting people to experience the goodness of God. It didn't make sense to me.

As a young adult who passionately and without reservation recommitted my life to following Jesus, I began to encounter these tensions again. I read the Bible from cover to cover numerous times. In my attempt to take Jesus' life and work seriously, to apply it faithfully to my own life, I seemed constantly bumping into those Christians who would explain away what I sensed in my spirit as truth, who would limit love and grace, making it more practical and somewhat conditional. For a period of time, in my sincerity, I read the Bible as literal truth, but something didn't "feel" right in my spirit, something about it became legalistic, quenching the Spirit within me. ["for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life" 2 Cor 3:6b]

For many years I held in tension Biblical authority (which was actually church authority--the traditional interpretation of church leaders) and what my own heart--what I believe to be the inner voice of the Spirit--was nudging me to acknowledge about the implications of God as Love, God as Grace. These nudgings shaped how I felt about those with a different lifestyle than mine, it even shaped my parenting . . . I longed for my children to make good choices based on love and an inner sense of what was right, rather than out of fear of punishment, or "because I said so."

My studies of the history of the church with its fights and splits, the history of how the canon, our Bible, was selected amidst power struggles, in tandem with my own observation of the misuse of power and authority by some church leaders today, led me to adjust my understanding of scripture. No longer can I hold my childhood view that God dictated scripture, nor do I ascribe to a doctrine of inerrancy as do fundamentalists. The Biblical texts are no less sacred, however. As the story of God's interaction in history recorded throughout a long period of time, these texts hold within them the truth and wisdom of God, as understood and interpreted by inspired, yet fallible humans. The Bible tells of the nature and work of God as revealed in the life and teachings of Christ. Its words become life-giving when interpreted by the living Spirit. I believe that wisdom and truth continue to be revealed by the Spirit to those who truly seek God with their whole heart.

With this understanding, I began to test and weigh the insights of scripture, using the filter of Jesus' life and teachings along with my own experiences and the resonance of the Spirit within me. I began, slowly, to trust my own sense of who God is. A serious study of other major religions brought the shocking awareness that there are persons in each with a devout commitment to discovering spiritual truth, and to practicing a life of peace, love and forgiveness. What could it mean when non-Christians live a life more Christlike than some who openly and stridently profess to being born again?

More and more, I've been drawn by God's love, grace and mercy, as taught and modeled by Jesus. It is the way to joyful living and the influence that I want to guide my decisions and how I view and treat others. In this process, I've had to make room for the unknown, for God as Mystery. I acknowledge that there are many things I just don't know, but in letting go of my need to know, I have experienced a new level of inner peace, of living with questions rather than having all the answers, of trusting that "all shall be well."

Some of these ideas have been taking shape within my spirit for years, mostly unspoken, or hidden within my journals. They were difficult for me to articulate with clarity, nor did they seem safe to discuss in family or church circles, since some of the ideas do not represent orthodox theology. When this book "found" me (and yes, I believe when our lives are led by God's Spirit, certain books and experiences "find" us at the needful time!) it was like meeting kindred spirits and fellow seekers who were putting on paper what my own spirit had been wrestling with for quite some time.

Through these words, the Spirit spoke to me, confirmed some of my perspective, and challenged me to consider some new interpretations of familiar passages of scripture, new ideas about grace beyond what I had imagined. A more complete understanding of God's grace for all people not only frees me from the bondage and exclusiveness of an "us and them" paradigm, it compels me to live according to this understanding, not limiting God's grace to a chosen few, but extending it to all, inviting all people to come to God's table, trusting that it is this love and grace that will overcome the barriers to relationship with God and will draw people to repentance, to turn away from former things, to live as Jesus did.

I do not presume to have a corner on truth, nor can I say with certainty that I'll always believe exactly as I do now. My beliefs have been an unfolding journey, and I am committed to remaining open to new leadings of God's Spirit. This book, however, is a pretty good representation of my current understanding of the implications of God's love and grace.
-------------

Reflections on The Wisdom of Forgiveness

2009-07-25T08:50:00.001-04:00

I recently read The Wisdom of Forgiveness: Intimate Conversations and Journeys by the Dalai Lama and Victor Chan. What follows are some reflections from my journal.

The mantra is forgiveness and interdependence. His wisdom and practice is presented in the midst of his experiences of meeting and sharing stories with folks all over the world. There is one meditation practice which strikes me . . . it's a bit different and for sure more universal in perspective than our normal individualistic spiritual practice.

In response to the question "Is there a special meditation technique that you use?" he says, "I use a meditation technique called giving and taking. I make visualization: send my positive emotions like happiness, affection to others. Then another visualization. I visualize receiving their sufferings, their negative emotions. I do this every day. I pay special attention to the Chinese--especially those doing terrible things to the Tibetans. So, as I meditate, I breathe in all their poisons--hatred, fear, cruelty. Then I breathe out. And I let all the good things come out, things like compassion, forgiveness. I take inside my body all these bad things. Then I replace poisons with fresh air. Giving and Taking. I take care not to blame--I don't blame the Chinese and I don't blame myself. This meditation is very effective, useful to reduce hatred, useful to cultivate forgiveness."

What I find remarkable about this meditation is that rather than shun poisons, he takes them in and replaces them with compassion and forgiveness. I've often wondered how to pray, how to respond to negativity and pain. This gives me a technique to respond to some of the ugliness. I'm going to try it.

I have frequently used a breathing technique to breathe in love and light and breathe out my stress and pain. Take in the good, let go the bad. This seems to be the opposite. Take upon oneself the ugly, breathe out blessing. Reminds one a bit of Jesus, doesnt' it? Perhaps in my practice of prayerful meditation there is a time for each.

The Dalai Lama also shares a delightful image about the potential impact of small actions, an illustration of interdependence. He calls it the Butterfly Effect. The flapping of a butterfly's wings in Beijing could cause minuscule atmospheric changes, which over time could affect weather patterns in Vancouver. It reminded me of similar thoughts contained in writings of Madeleine L'Engle.

From where I sit…

2009-07-15T09:07:00.001-04:00

We are gone for the week, working and then relaxing. I love it that all I need is Kindle and I can take a whole
library with me. I am never without something to read, including news apps.

We are at the house in Tioga County for a couple days before going to Slate Run for the annual Kennel family reunion. We are enjoying the quiet beauty, sitting on the porch, listening to birds, watching monarchs hovering over the milkweed patch. This morning we saw four buck under the apple trees. There is a bunny out there too.

Sarah and her family will be here by noon and it won't be so quiet after that!

-- Post From My iPhone

Books: The Unlikely Disciple

2009-07-09T06:24:00.000-04:00

A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University, by Kevin Roose. A young journalism student at Brown University decides to spend a semester at Liberty University incognito and then write about his experience. He figures this will be as much of a cultural shock as any semester abroad.

I found the book to be fascinating. Roose is quite a remarkable young man…observant, open to learn, insightful, wise for his years, honest about his experience and respectful of his friends. So much so that the reader is hooked, wondering what the author's personal transformation might be in the end.…

-- Post From My iPhone

Keeping on keeping on…

2009-07-08T07:36:00.000-04:00

I've been participating in a 40 day email series called "Practicing Spirituality with the Quakers". Much of what I've read is not new to me, but nonetheless, there have been helpful reminders of some of my deepest core values. A recent excerpt jumped out at me, touching a longstanding area of personal vulnerability:

"Not one of us will live long enough to see a fraction of the difference we make, but it is essential that we pursue our ideals anyway. Many of the first Quakers never saw freedom of religion come to England. Most of the original suffragists never got to vote. The murdered civil rights workers did not get to see racial tensions ease. Few idealists live long enough to see their dreams made real, and yet their influence lives after them, and their dreams do, sometimes, come true for others."

— Kate Maloy in A Stone Bridge North

Years ago our home seemed to be a haven for folks in need. We poured our energy, our love and our resources—our very selves—into the lives of several individuals and families. We have no sparkling success stories to tell, we can't point to lives transformed in any obvious way. Reading such stories has always stirred up questions for me about what we did or didn't do or might have done better. And yet I've always been comforted, in that inner place of knowing, that we did the best we could with what we knew at the time, that our motives were loving and sincere, and that those events and relationships came to us for a reason. Looking back, I see holy moments.

Living faithful, living true in our relationships has always been important to us. We may not see that we've made any difference in our lifetime, but these words by Karen Maloy encourage me to keep on keeping on!

-- Post From My iPhone

A Book Review, of sorts

2009-07-03T20:25:00.002-04:00

We Have a Religion: The 1920s Pueblo Indian Dance Controversy and American Religious Freedom, by Tisa Wenger

In reading the cited book, one of the things that was obvious to me was that everyone sees these events through their own filter of experience, including participants documented in the story as well as those of us who read it. I was acutely aware of how my own experience of authoritative religion was shaping my response at times, how I felt in my gut the familiar angst, the sickening knot of being patronized by what I've called 'benevolent patriarchy' (and sometimes not so benevolent, though I think the patriarchs involved intended it to be so for the most part!), the pain of knowing that one's experience, beliefs and/or personhood is not valued by those in positions of power and influence.

Arrogance! Over and over, I was struck by the arrogance of religious and government leaders presuming to know what was and is best for Native Americans without giving them voice in the decision-making process. The assumption that our religious beliefs have evolved and are in all ways superior to indigenous and other non-Christian spiritual wisdom and practice is troublesome. It was interesting to read the Native American's development of religious and legal arguments that continue into the present. Reading of these ongoing cases, it strikes me again as ironic and arrogant to observe the U.S.'s presumed right to speak with authority to civil conflicts around the globe, when our own record is so dismal.

It was fascinating to read of the development of the term "religion" within the tribes, how religious arguments were made on behalf of traditional leaders and progressives alike; and that the western concept of individual choice as applied to religious freedom has been a two-edged sword. And to read about the controversy posed by the presence of non-Indian spiritual seekers in the present . . . I hadn't thought about some of these things.

I have no first hand experience with the realities of the Native American experience. It would be interesting to hear a response and discussion involving persons who have lived and worked in proximity to native peoples, medical people who have been in the clinics, those who've worked in orphanages, those who have provided social services, who have seen the ugly side of societal breakdown--drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence, sexual abuse. I suppose, just as in the historical record, the opinions of cause, effect and solution would range across the spectrum.

I finish the book with an appreciation for the complexity of the issues. In spite of the challenges, we must continue to find ways to live together in this nation, respectful of those things held to be sacred, yet recognizing the great diversity among us in that regard. Three years ago, Larry and I had the marvelous privilege of spending eight days and seven nights on a river rafting trek through the Grand Canyon. It was not only an exploration of physical beauty and grandeur, but an awesome and reverential experience as well. Did we desecrate sacred Native American space even though we were respectful and abided by the "leave no trace" dictum? What is an equitable solution to such dilemmas? And how is sacred space violated by Native Americans when economics are involved? (I'm thinking now of the glass walkway suspended over the canyon and open to the public.)

This book, with its extensive documentation, careful exploration, and insightful interpretation, adds a valuable perspective to the discussion, but I, for one, don't have answers.

Home alone

2009-06-12T22:11:00.003-04:00

Well, not quite! Larry is gone (he headed to the mountains for the weekend and an anniversary party for friends). I, meanwhile, went to Lancaster to pick up the three older siblings of baby Evelyn, and we stopped at the hospital on the way home.

The children are staying with me tonight and tomorrow. We had supper at Burger King. It's been awhile since I tried to manage three pre-schoolers on my own! At bedtime, they wanted to be together, so they are three in a bed. After some giggling they actually settled down and now they are sleeping. Sweet dreams little ones.

Evelyn Grace

2009-06-12T20:28:00.001-04:00

New grand daughter as of 5:17 this morning!

-- Post From My iPhone

If you build it . . .

2009-04-28T10:48:00.005-04:00

Instead of turning cropland into a ball field, we're turning a ball field into cropland . . . a vineyard, to be specific.

Last fall, the fences came down. Mid-March the ground was ripped both ways with a subsoiler, leaving huge clumps of sod which needed to be broken up with a disk and then plowed under. In April, there was more disking and harrowing in preparation for planting.

Then the vines arrived from California. 3150 of them.

This is one bunch of the bare roots, grafted plants.

And then planting began.

Lily's new puppy

2009-04-25T08:58:00.000-04:00

Lucky is a Maltese-Yorkie cross.

Logan was more interested in Grandpa's tractor!

-- Post From My iPhone

Signs of Spring

2009-04-09T20:18:00.001-04:00

One of my favorite spring wild flowers ...

And I love traditional daffodils...

And these white daffodils given us by a dear friend...

Today I reflect on this wondrous beauty while also mindful of those who carry a burden of grief and great loss.

-- Post From My iPhone

A walking meditation

2009-03-22T15:41:00.000-04:00

It is a lovely day in early spring with the promise of warmer days to come. I went walking, the same two mile stretch I've walked dozens of times over the years.

In 1994 when my oldest was home from college for the summer, we got up at 6 a.m. each morning and walked together. We continued our walks until her wedding in 1996.

By then second daughter had joined us, and walking wasn't enough. She wanted to run, training for field hockey. We walked and jogged those early summer mornings until her wedding day in 2000.

Now if I walk I am usually alone. But I like the silence. Sometimes I'm lost in thought, sometimes I see my surroundings. I always notice my favorite tree, standing regally, alone against the sky.

One year for Christmas my daughter gave me a framed collage of this tree in the four seasons.

Today I paused at the entrance of my neighbor's driveway. Gretchen, 63, lived many years with Parkinsons disease. She, too, used to walk in the early mornings and we often passed one another in the darkness just before dawn. Later, when she could no longer manage those walks, I would see her in her flower garden, watering, tending each bed with loving care.

Today I stood before a dead winter wreath hanging on the fence. It seems to speak of the recent experience within those gates, for Gretchen died the end of February.

Who will tend your gardens now?

The hint of new life is all around. Snow drops and crocuses are blooming, daffodils are budding and tulips are growing. The pussy willow bush is covered in luxurious fur. Robins and bluebirds are here in abundance, and the goldfinch is getting it's bright yellow coat.

Death and life, always present.

Something new

2009-03-21T14:53:00.002-04:00

I downloaded a program to blog and post pictures from my phone. This is my first try. If it works I'll have the option of blogging while on the road.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not!

Last week when the weather brought hopes of spring, Larry got out the barrel "train". It is a favorite activity for the grandkids. And we think Larry enjoys it as much as they do!

The engineer . . .

Lily

Jade

Colby

Logan

Saturday morning project

2009-03-19T20:41:00.006-04:00

Larry and Levi ran the wood splitter.

Reuben and Judah moved the wood.

Everyone helped to stack. This is Max.

The finished project! We'll be warm next winter.

Little treasures on earth

2009-03-15T20:15:00.004-04:00

"Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:21

The children were all home on Saturday. Four children + four spouses + thirteen little ones = delightful chaos. We are blessed beyond measure.

There's something about the Tao . . .

2009-03-13T08:57:00.006-04:00

I've been reading from the Tao te Ching again lately (by Lao-Tzu, Stephen Mitchell translation.) There is something about this text that inspires me, draws me, resonates deep within me.

I'll include one of my favorite quotes:

"Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue."

Perhaps it speaks so clearly because I can ponder it without hearing other voices from my past telling me what it means. That's what makes Bible reading so difficult for me . . . I still have trouble reading it without playing re-runs of all those harsh and authoritative interpretations that caused me such inner turmoil the first half of my life.

The Tao (the Way) is not a religion, but a way of being, a way of living in the world. And it doesn't seem so far removed from the way of the Wisdom Jesus, (which is the title of another great book, by Cynthia Bourgeault).

One of my friends referred me to the Tao-based writing by Dr. Wayne W. Dwyer. Though a lovely book, some reviewers were critical of his posh lifestyle which seemed a bit contrary to the way of the Tao. So, instead, I picked up The Tao of Willie, by Willie Nelson with Turk Pipkin.

What a great find! It's the Tao-like wisdom and philosophy of Willie, delivered in crusty, earthy language, peppered with humor and jokes and personal experiences. It's a not-too-thick paperback, very short chapters, easy and entertaining reading. Who would have thought that a book containing so much wisdom and common sense could be so much fun?

Where have I been?

2009-03-12T10:21:00.002-04:00

Oh, my! Nearly a year has gone by since last I spent any time here. A full work schedule has seen me traveling to and fro across the state. Our growing family fills my at-home time. Three new grand babies since Thanksgiving!

Twin boys, Ori and Gideon, were born by emergency c-section Thanksgiving night. That they and their mama are alive and well, we are more grateful than words can tell.

Tyler joined the family just before Christmas. His mama has begun a professional photography business. Her work with infants, children and families can be seen on her web site.

This is the design of my mass greeting sent in January. The greeting read as follows:

To friends and family scattered near and far
Since last we wrote, how quickly time has passed!
You’re in our thoughts, we wonder how you are
And what’s transpired since we heard from you last.
‘Most everyone we know was glad to see
The end of year two thousand eight, a time
Of tumult, crisis and uncertainty.
We hope for change, new rhythm and new rhyme
The whole world ‘round. Now turning closer home,
We want to send a note, an update brief.
Our days are oft routine, and miles we roam
With ET work. It’s presently our chief
Means of support, but goals and interests change.
New plans emerge for life “home on the range.”

We’ve ordered grapes to plant, a tractor’s bought.
Springtime will bring a vineyard to the hill.
We’ll see if all that Larry has been taught
Can transform hobby into a new skill.
Besides our work we took a trip or two.
We went to Wichita for family fun,
A happy gathering of the Headings crew.
Then back in Kansas e’er the year was done,
To play with friends in the AETA,
While getting needed credits for CE.
Two weddings gave us chance to get away
To Texas and New York, more friends to see.
Our family grows and changes. Can it be
That by year-end we numbered twenty-three?

First Fran and Steve: one project for the year
Was finishing their basement, quite a feat
Enabling them to spread some Christmas cheer
By hosting family dinners. That was neat.
Another goal was reached when Steve obtained
A car wash which he tends with obvious care.
Her ER work plus parenting remained
The focus of Fran’s days. No time to spare!
The news from Reuben’s family came in twos
Yes, twins, two precious baby boys arrived.
Emergency C-section we’d not choose
But with thanksgiving we say all have thrived
And are adjusting to a house of boys.
The days are filled with active, joyful noise!

There’s baby news from Scott and Sarah, too.
A son was born December twenty-one.
This little fellow, name of Tyler Drew,
Came just in time to join the Christmas fun.
The economic madness came too near.
Scott lost his job, an unexpected blow.
We pray that new direction becomes clear
For him and several other folks we know.
Son Nathan and his family have returned
To Lancaster. They readily will tell
About their sojourn and the lessons learned.
It’s good to have them back and doing well.

This greeting ends with wishes most sincere
That love, good health and peace will grace your year.

Up next: Comments about books I've read recently . . .

The celebration concludes

2008-03-19T23:21:00.002-04:00

Monday, we went to work as usual, a full day with stops in the Ephrata and New Holland area. When we got home, about 5:00, we walked into a clean house! For their gift to me, the kids surprised me . . . they had hired a cleaning service to come and clean the house, including windows and refrigerator. Sarah arranged to be there to organize my clutter, since I had no clue my house would be invaded. The gift includes three more cleaning days. What a wonderful gift. I can't think of anything I'd appreciate more. And Terah had dinner in process, the table set for two . . . steak on the grill, salad and baked potatoes (microwaved with an onion also) and wine, of course. Then she and Nathan took off to look at more houses. I then spent a couple of hours in the office preparing paperwork for the next three days on the road.

On Tuesday, the actual birthday, we packed our bags and equipment and headed north. We had three cows on the schedule at a farm near Elizabethville, north of Halifax in Dauphin County. From there, we headed further north to Wysox/Towanda. These towns are along the Susquehanna River in Bradford County, Wysox on one side, Towanda on the other. We checked into our motel, showered, then headed to the River Stone Inn in Wysox for dinner. We enjoyed prime rib, baked potato and salad, and shared a bottle of Turning Leaf Cabernet.

That was pretty much it. I don't think I've ever before had a birthday celebration that stretched for six days--seven if you include tonight's dinner!

Tonight, after working 7:30 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., we cleaned ourselves up and then went to a place outside Towanda called the Italian Villa. We shared a half carafe of cabernet . . . I forget the brand. I had Hawaiian chicken . . . strips of boneless chicken breast in a pineapple sauce (that included red and green peppers) over rice. It was sooo yummy I moaned out loud. Larry had veal Marsala and his meal was tasty also. I'm sure we'll return to this restaurant when we are in the area again.

I've been treated pretty well, wouldn't you agree? Still trying to wrap my head around "senior citizen." I went to bed Tuesday evening, lying in the dark, I still felt like a kid in my inner being. How's that, do you suppose? Maybe because our spirits don't age like our bodies do . . .

Okay, enough. It's already past 11:00 and we have to be back on the
farm by 7:30 in the morning.

The celebration continued through the weekend

2008-03-19T22:49:00.007-04:00

The women of our small group headed down 272 to the Chesapeake Bay for the weekend. Our destination was a cottage owned by one of our group at Hack's Point, a little community on the bay, actually on the Bohemia River.

We walked into the cottage and there was a lovely bouquet of flowers with three helium balloons . . . the first time in my life I was given balloons! For dinner that evening we enjoyed chicken corn soup made with home frozen corn and homemade olive bread. Larry sent six bottles of wine along, and we drank two of them . . . an Elderberry/Blackberry blend and Red Raspberry. We talked and laughed until after midnight.

In the morning, three of us got up first and went for a walk down to the water. Back at the cottage we enjoyed homemade granola for breakfast, then piled in the van for a day of touring and shopping. Our first stop was at a local potter, Sassi, in

the little village of Still Pond. I loved his style and ended up buying a mug and bowl. I was also intrigued by the historical marker across the street proclaiming the names of three women who voted in a municipal election 12 years before the 19th amendment gave women the right to vote.

From there, we headed to the historic town of Chestertown where we browsed through several shops and ate lunch. I had crab quiche. Mmmm. What a great place, and
spring was beginning to make an appearance, evidenced by daffodils and flowering trees. We passed a huge dairy farm . . . I had to take a picture because this farm was one of Larry's first clients when he started out on his own. We haven't worked there for years, but nonetheless, they were significant clients in the early years.

Back at the cottage, we walked around the area a bit until it was time for dinner. We had grilled chicken over pasta, asparagus with sauteed pine nuts and garlic, salad and more birthday cake. We drank another bottle of wine, this one a special selection Larry sent, 2005 Mannatawney Creek Cabernet Franc. This wine won first place in Pennsylvania Wine Society's annual contest. My friend had arranged for a birthday blessing which the women read to me . . . it was a piece written by Joyce Rupp. It was a special time and I feel much gratitude for these friendships.
We ended up talking way into the night.

Sunday morning we woke to rain. We enjoyed more granola, then a morning of conversation, lunch of leftover chicken corn soup, bread and salad, then continued discussions until time to pack up and head home, leaving about 2:00.

We talked about current careers and future plans, families of origin and
early life experiences, relationships and much more. We laughed so hard
that I had little salt specks on my glasses lenses Monday morning. It
was relaxing, stress-free and one of the best times I've had with a group
of women in a long time.

The celebrating has begun

2008-03-14T16:15:00.001-04:00

Not that turning 60 is necessarily a big deal. Last night we were at Steve and Fran's for dinner, along with Scot and Sarah. Wine, pork loin, mashed potatoes, salad, broccoli, cake and ice cream. Fran tried to get everyone together, but it didn't work out. Nathan and Terah had other plans, and though Reuben and Donna are coming for the weekend, they didn't arrive until today.

No family party over the weekend because I'm not going to be here. The women of our small group are going to the bay. There was a time I would have felt guilty going away when the kids are all here, but not now. They'll enjoy being together, but they'll have to take care of themselves. No cooking and cleaning for me. I'll be sittin' on the dock of the bay . . .

Marilyn

It is sometimes said seven days make one weak . . .

2008-02-17T10:28:00.004-05:00

I disagree. The shape of daily life can certainly make a dramatic shift in just a few days. But in the last seven days I have seen strength and courage, not weakness!

Last July, my youngest son and his family moved to Fort Mills, SC, intending to participate in a missions training program in anticipation of going as a team of three families to live in community in another country. We learned over the holidays, in a more definitive way, that things just were not going as they had expected. This program is new and they were drawn to it based on conversation, shared vision and one of the team's past academic relationship with the two instructors. As it turned out, there were some significant differences in understanding of what was being offered and how the classes were structured, the housing promised didn't happen, the part time jobs that were supposed to be available didn't materialize. There were many challenges.

In early January it became clear that they would formally withdraw from the program. At that point, the team was also at different places in regard to accountability, vision, decision making. We knew by mid-January that Nathan and Terah would probably be moving back to the Lancaster area sometime within the next few months, but at that point, they felt they would be staying awhile, wanting to "leave well" with good relationships among the folks there. Nathan was optimistic in being able to find some kind of temporary even-if-minimum-wage job to allow them to be there a bit longer. But try as he might the past month, he hasn't been able to find anything. The other team members were already finalizing plans to return to Lancaster by March 1.

We got a call from Nathan and Terah a week ago. Nothing seemed to be moving forward for them. Nathan had applied several places and no one had even called him back. They thought, since he didn't have work anyway, that maybe they would just come home for a few days and explore possibilities here. So Friday, Feb 8, they packed their little family into the car and came to Pennsylvania. En route, they called a realtor and the woman who had worked so hard to help them get their first mortgage. By Saturday, they had a day of house hunting lined up for Monday and had learned good news about their mortgage possibilities. Nothing special in the way of houses appealed to them on Monday, but the realtor lined up more for Thursday. After observing their comments and responses, she said she knew a lot better what they were looking for and was sure she could show them houses they would like. Tuesday, Nathan met with his former employer and was offered his old job back, available as soon as he can start. This job offer really moved things along for them.

Wednesday was an ice and snow day, and they pretty well stayed put. We had lots of conversation about options and timing for returning to SC to pack up their belongings, whether to bring every thing now, or leave some household items until later since they have paid rent for another thirty days. Thursday, they spent with the realtor and saw three or four houses that they like. Meanwhile, my daughter and I took the two older children to State College to meet Terah's mom. She took them back to her home for a few days. Nathan and Terah left Friday to return to SC. The plan is to pack everything up Saturday, load a U-Haul Sunday and move all their things back on Monday. They had to "buy out" their lease, a penalty amounting to about two months' rent, but we all felt it was better to do that than to stay down there with no job. They will put their things in storage and live with us until they settle on a house. Hopefully that can be expedited because there are many homes available, many of them already empty, the sellers eager to close.

Nathan and Terah are doing okay. Going to SC was a good experience for them in many ways. They learned a lot. Though things didn't turn out as they had expected (how often does this happen for any of us??) they feel good about the decisions they made. We feel good about it, too, knowing their attitude and their hearts.

Tanked - II

2008-02-17T09:56:00.002-05:00

A good friend responded privately to my "Tanked!" post, provoking further reflection. I'd like to respond, while honoring her anonymity.

Friend: I wasn't sure if you were getting ready to jump ship into the big ocean, or if you were speaking metaphorically in expanding your tank size!!??.

Me: Don't expect anything drastic! I do occasionally wonder if I would have the courage to do so, but really, I am not that discontent with my life. In small ways I am learning how to "live true" as my spiritual director says. I like that term a lot. To me it encompasses the work I have been doing during my time at Kairos, working to have the inner and outer life be congruent. I don't think I'm self-deceived when I say that I've made at least some progress! I think the "tanked" metaphor rang true as much from past experience as present, remembering how tightly bound I was to the way I was brought up, black and white thinking, etc. I didn't know any other way to look at things . . . it was always either/or rather than both/and. The tank began to expand when I went back to college. Changing churches was a huge "jump ship" experience. Now I have the freedom to expand gently. I just don't want to get too complacent!

Friend: You've always seemed to do much better than me 'fitting into' the stereotype of what is expected of a Mennonite woman in the sense of a traditional role. I on the other hand have not.

Me: But at what cost? I think both choices had a cost. It seems to me that you were "living true" to your inner self, and the cost was external, with a lot of pressure from the outside. I went along with a lot of the external pressure, but there was an inner cost of tension and the struggle to discover and maintain my true identity. In many ways I felt trapped, again by the either/or thinking. Maybe if I had had a career that I loved I would have had the courage to pursue it and not do the traditional thing. But I always had mixed feelings about how that would affect the kids, and I never did figure out what I was suppose to "be when I grew up." I never found anything that I loved to do. So, by default, my life took on the traditional trappings.

Friend: You have been the 'seemingly' traditional wife, staying home to care for your babies, and waiting to work til they went to college, etc. Maybe your 'seemingly' is just that...or should I ask maybe things aren't always as they seem? Maybe you do a better job keeping your mouth shut and keeping your thoughts to yourself?

Me: Keeping your mouth shut has a cost too, again, the whole thing about living true . . . One of the things that tended to keep me quiet was my own self doubt. That and the fact that I hate conflict. I often thought that my dissonant feelings were my own issues, so I would tend to work at them by myself. And in many ways that was good and helpful. I think I did a lot of self-therapy through reading and thinking, observing and writing. In those days I read through the Bible several times, and there were principles there that I tried to practice . . . one was to speak only those things that were helpful to build up the other, not just to blow off my own steam. The dark side of that is that I never learned very well to express my own needs. But over all, I've managed to survive pretty much in tact!

Thanks, my friend, for this conversation.

Tanked!

2008-02-07T08:10:00.000-05:00

This would be a good title for my unwritten memoir. Mark Nepo, in The Book of Awakening, writes about observing some fish taken from their tank to the bathtub while their tank was being cleaned. The fish stayed together in a small space the size of their tank as though held by an invisible, tank-sized world view. That's how I've learned to live, in a safe and acceptable way of being. Placed in an unbounded world, I stay within the boundaries set for me long ago. Is it too late to get out of the tank?

Howard J. Headings - Oct 7, 1920 - Feb 3, 1988

2008-02-04T12:49:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about my dad. Yesterday was the twentieth anniversary of his death.

My memories of the early years have softened over time, as my understanding and compassion have increased. One of the things I grieve is that I didn't know my dad in the same way some of my younger siblings did . . . he and mother made some significant changes in their openness and world view in the twenty plus years after I'd married and left the area. What I saw as an adult was a dad who loved all of us children and his grandchildren. We were always welcomed home, we were always greeted with big hugs and beaming smiles, often on the sidewalk before we got to the house. He died a young 67, so the grandchildren were all youngsters, and he often read to them. We have pictures of him reading with little children on both knees and the arms of the chair, all around him.

My dad was a gentle and loving man, trusting and faithful to us and to God. I don't ever remember him raising his hand to strike or spank any of us, I really can't remember him raising his voice. Though I don't remember playing with him at all, I remember helping in the barn sometimes, especially in the hay mow. What I most remember are the verbal tangles we'd get into when I was beginning to think and ask questions. Usually the conversations went something like . . .

"Can I . . . ."
"No."
"Why can't I . . ."
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Because I said so." or "Because the church says so."

And I would get so angry that the answer was so definite but never a reason that made sense. And I would storm out of the room. In those days it seemed like every answer was "no", either because I was a girl or because the church said so. I grew to hate being a girl and hate being a Mennonite.

Now I know that the 50's and 60's were difficult years for my folks. Not only were these financially challenging times (we were some of the poorest Mennonites in the community, or so it seemed to me), but also, the church was still a very strong voice of authority. If you buy into the "birth order" theories, my dad and mom were both middle children. They tried really hard to follow the rules, to submit to the church's authority. I never ever remember them voicing any kind of challenge to what the church was teaching in those days . . . they had no idea the wounds that this setting caused me . . . and I had no appreciation for their attempts to be faithful. Their submissiveness meant that our home was more strict than most of the other Mennonite homes, some of our rules were not followed by the other families.

Two very significant situations helped me to see my dad in a new light. In the late '70's I was deeply involved in the charismatic movement, participating fully in a women's organization called "Women Aglow". At one of the monthly meetings, I remember feeling convicted to write him a letter and ask his forgiveness for my rebellious attitudes and actions, and for the pain my behavior must have caused him. To my surprise, within a few days, I received a letter from him in the mail. It is the only personal letter I ever got from him. An excerpt:

"Concerning your 'rebellious years' I forgave you at that time. I never held it against you at all. I realize you children grew up during very difficult and changing years. It was hard for me to accept the changes as it was for you to conform to the old traditional ways. But I hope thru the changes we have all grown closer to the Lord and understand the Word better thru reading and fellowship with fellow Christians. . . With love and more love, Dad"

It was the first time I began to see those years from his perspective!

The other significant piece was a class at Etown College taught by Beulah Stauffer Hostetler, based on her book about the influence of fundamentalism on the Mennonites in the American experience. It was quite a revelation to me to place my parents in that historical setting . . . in some ways, given their personalities, I saw them, especially my dad, as somewhat of a victim of the times as much as I was. Although I don't think he ever felt a victim, and I have moved away from that identity as well. Thankfully.

After dad's funeral, I requested a copy of the tape and transcribed it. Today I went back and read it again. I know not everyone appreciates spontaneous sharing in public services, but for me, it was an invaluable window into how other people experienced my dad in those later years. Though I did not know him in the same way on a day to day basis, their experiences were congruent with the glimpses I saw.

Enough musing. At this time in my life, I realize the gift my parents were to me. They were loving and forgiving and faithful and welcoming. Even with the harshness of rules, they valued relationships . . . when there were divisive events within the extended family and within the church community (spelled d-i-v-o-r-c-e), they refused to take sides, but worked to maintain relationships with everyone. What a gift, what an example.

Christmas Greetings

2007-12-13T20:03:00.000-05:00

Another year is coming to an end.
‘Tis time to greet our friends both far and near.
An update of our family we will send
to let you know events throughout the year.
We’ve had the usual ebb and flow life brings.
Hellos, good-byes, things stay the same yet change.
Three baby boys were born and our house rings
with squeals and cries and laughter–the whole range.
We also said good-bye to Larry’s dad.
He died at eighty-nine this August past.
We miss his quiet presence, yet we’re glad
for loving memories. These we hold fast
and pause with gratitude for life lived well
in gracious deeds beyond what words can tell.

Now to the celebrations–just a few.
A milestone birthday, Larry hit six-oh.
And forty years of marriage, yes, it’s true
we hit that marker just two months ago.
In August we were California bound
for Larry’s annual meeting and C.E.
We met old friends, we laughed and toured around
to see the sites, including wine country.
September saw us traveling once again.
Prince Edward Island was our final stop.
What beauty! Such great seafood! Oh, and then
the bonus was an extra C.E. op.
What fun we’ve had! Again we stop and say
a word of thanks for times of work and play.

Our daughter Fran and husband Steve are near
with Lily, three, and Logan who’s brand new.
Steve’s great as a mechanic, that’s quite clear.
Fran’s now a partner with the ER crew.
We have to drive to Turbotville to see
son Reuben, Donna, Levi, Judah, Max.
They’re in their new addition, gratefully.
To Scott and Sarah, just a few brief facts.
With Jade and baby Colby, life is grand.
They moved to E-town, bought a house and yard.
This summer Nathan moved his little band
to South Carolina, it was truly hard
to see them go, though following their call.
The bottom line? We love and bless them all.

We’re glad the holidays will soon be here
because the children all will gather in.
They’ll fill our quiet house with noisy cheer,
happy to be together once again.
One thing is certain, winter did arrive
this week. The air was crisp with wind and snow.
But since we’ve lots of work and miles to drive
we layer the clothes and out the door we go
with gratitude for health and strength. Of life
itself we’re mindful. Yet we know for some
not all is well, the days hold pain and strife.
We join with those who long for peace to come
to hearts and homes, to people everywhere.
And peace to you, our friends, whose lives we share.

Merry Christmas!

Prince Edward Island - III

2007-09-17T12:14:00.000-04:00

On the way to Charlottetown yesterday, we drove by the Confederation Bridge, which connects Prince Edward Island to New Brunswick. It is quite a marvel to see, but I was glad not to drive over it!

Charlottetown is a delightful place, small, picturesque. We walked through the streets, browsing in some of the shops, admiring the flowers. We went into St. Dunstan's Basilica, a large and beautiful Catholic church. Our friend and guide, a native of PEI, pointed out the Confederation Building and other historic sites.

There was a shellfish festival going on, and we considered going into the large tent set up near the harbor. We stopped by, but there was loud music playing, we weren't sure what foods were available for lunch, and there was an admission fee. By then it had begun to rain and the wind kicked up. We decided to have lunch instead at a little restaurant called Flex Mussels. After some more browsing we returned to Summerside.

A large group of us went out for dinner. The conference was formally over, but traditionally, this group enjoys a final evening together. We returned to the Shipwright where a few of us had eaten lunch on Friday.
There were kettles of mussels and raw oysters for appetizers, fresh oat bread and bottles of wine. The special was grilled salmon with herbs, a delicious vegetable medley and roasted potatoes. Larry had scallops. Others had halibut. There were jokes and laughter and reminiscing. It has become a tradition to finish off the evening with toasts and port. It was 11:00 before we left to return to Summerside.

This morning we checked out at 6:15 and returned to the airport at Charlottetown. We had kind of a crazy flight out of PEI. It's a small airport, so checking in and passing through security was no problem. In the gate area, we waited and waited, then the captain came into the waiting area and said that there wasn't enough fuel on the plane to get to Detroit, and more fuel couldn't be added until a mechanic got there at noon. (We were to leave at 8:30). The alternative was to make a stop in Bangor Maine for fuel. After a bit more waiting, he said that was the plan, but we had TOO MUCH fuel to land safely in Bangor, so we would be sitting at the end of the runway to burn off some excess fuel before take off. That took another 20 minutes so we were about an hour and twenty minutes late leaving, plus the extra time fueling in Bangor. We were thankful our schedule had included a three hour layover . . . with the time it took to get through immigration and customs and security, we had about ten minutes before we boarded! Did you ever hear of such a crazy thing? It's not like they've never done that flight before!! But the flights were smooth and uneventful, and we are grateful to be home.

Prince Edward Island - II

2007-09-17T10:21:00.000-04:00

Saturday morning . . . hard to keep track of the days here. Today is the meat of the CE so the guys will be in sessions until 4:00. These guys put in some long days, no different from home, I guess. Breakfast is 6:45-7:30 and the sessions soon after.

Friday was absolutely gorgeous here, weatherwise. It was sunny and warm, "severe clear" Larry would say. (I forgot to mention that Thursday was mostly sunny but very breezy, a continuation of the strong winds that nearly blew us away upon our arrival). I hung out in the room for a couple of hours, reading and writing email. There is a harbor front shopping area across the street, so several of us walked over and browsed.

I didn't buy anything but lunch . . . some of the shops have closed already and most will be closing for the season this weekend or next.

We drove several miles out into the countryside for lunch, a place called Shipwright. It is located in what must have been a farmhouse, surrounded by lovely lawn and flower gardens, and then meadows and pine tree woodlands. The chef is a young man, or seemed young to me, his wife an Anglican minister. There were four of us, one of my American friends and two Canadians, one from Calgary, the other from right here on PEI. She is the one who knows of all these charming places to visit and to eat.
Since the associations have been having joint sessions for several years, we've all met before. This was the first time I'd spent extended time with them in a small group. Lunch was great, although we missed the Thai mussels by one order. However, the Canadians asked the server if there were any leftovers or if one accidently fell off a plate, could they have it? And the chef actually prepared about half an order from what was left over, so the mussel lovers were delighted! The chef bakes the most mouthwatering breads, yesterday it was oat bread. I had half a turkey sandwich on oat, with a cup of corn chowder. The soup de yesterday was a tomato pesto of some sort which two of the women had, and the other had their seafood chowder. We sat around the table until 3:00, a most meaningful time talking about our different but similar experiences as spouses of professionals, what it has meant in terms of careers and family, ways we have learned to take care of ourselves. Some of the most memorable times for me are these, purely spontaneous, you can't plan for them, they just happen.

We then drove through the countryside for awhile, stopping at a couple small pottery shops and a tea and preserves boutique. I forgot to mention in yesterday's account that we had stopped at a local ice cream parlor (actually there are about six of them across the island), called Cows. They have delicious flavors of hand dipped ice cream . . . but also gift shops with clothing and novelties. Some of the "cows" designs are quite creative . . . but I left them there.

We got back to the inn at about 5:15, just in time to freshen up and walk a short distance up the harbor to the Silver Fox Yacht and Curling Club, where the lobster feast was prepared for us. What a great time we had. The lobster was delectable. Our PEI friends were sitting across the table and gave two of us amateurs a step by step lesson in how to best crack open and eat them.
There was a bright red strip down through the tail of mine, which our local expert said was like roe. I gave it to Larry. The beer was plentiful, the food pleasurable, the company laughter filled. The Canadians know how to enjoy themselves!
After dinner, there was a band which played a wide variety of music, from the toe tapping Celtic and local ballads, to Elvis, John Denver, and the Tennessee Waltz. A couple of the tables were pushed back and the dancing started.

Our PEI friend loves to dance and she and her husband did a great job pulling some of us more reluctant ones onto the floor at various times . . . I believe they succeeded in getting everyone in our party out at least once. Haven't laughed so hard in a long time.

We walked back to the inn at about 11:00. There was a hospitality suite in the Parlor Room, so we stopped in there for another half hour before calling it a night.

An observation regarding our accommodations: Recycling seems to be well established here. The soda machines dispense soda in glass bottles. All the rooms have three baskets, one labelled recycling, one labelled compost and one labelled trash . . . and each has it's list of the contents to be included. The rooms also invite guests to reuse linens.

Prince Edward Island

2007-09-17T10:02:00.000-04:00

We flew to Charlottetown on Wednesday via NorthWest Airlink (50 passenger planes) Harrisburg to Detroit to Charlottetown. We will return on Sunday by the same route. We feel quite fortunate to be 20 minutes from the Harrisburg airport and to be able to connect to wherever we've wanted to fly. It costs a bit more, usually, but the convenience, especially with the new security measures, is hard to beat. ("Why would you go anywhere else?" asks Larry.) We walked into the airport around 11:00 a.m. There was no one ahead of us at the NW counter. We checked in within 5 minutes and headed to security where there were about 5 people ahead of us. We were at our gate within 15-20 minutes of walking through the doors. The flights were uneventful. We did have a three hour layover in Detroit. We used the time to walk over to the main concourse and exchange some currency, then went to the Irish Pub for a beer and a sandwich. (It was 3:00 but we'd not had much to eat yet and we knew we'd be in the air over dinner time.) The weather at Charlottetown Wednesday evening was 65 degrees, partly cloudy, but with quite gusty winds, so the planed bounced around a little during landing, but nothing real serious. Charlottetown airport is also quite small. The customs people were friendly, even a jolly lot. They asked the requisite questions, but were friendly and casual.

We had arranged for a taxi to transport us to the convention sight at Summerside, a 45 minute drive to the west. It was 9:00 p.m. here (an hour later than EST) and dark, so we weren't able to see the countryside. Our cab driver was a local and chatted away most of the trip. He seemed like a stereotypical maritime guy, weathered, curly gray hair with a cap perched on his head. He said he grew up on a farm with reigistered Holsteins. Potatoes are a big crop here and he told us that we will see brown fields. In preparing for harvest the potato fields are burned so the potatoes mature properly. This, I understand, is because of the short growing season which doesn't allow the potatoes to die down on their own, as they do in Pennsylvania.

We checked into our hotel, The Loyalist. Described as a country inn, it really does have that flavor, comfortable, friendly folks, lots
of flowers. Yesterday (Thursday) we joined a few friends from USA also here and did a bit of touring. This area is beautiful. There is a tranquility about the area that is palpable. There are green fields, we saw lots of potatoes, some soy beans, and lots of pastureland. Lots of pine trees along the roadsides. There are numerous dairies, and in fact, we drove by two farms known in the Holstein world for their good genetics. The fields often extended to the coast, so the cattle, green fields, blue water in the background is breathtaking. Over the last number of years, Canadian embryo association (CETA) and the American counterpart (AETA) have met together and since Larry was on the AETA board for about 5 years, he has learned to know several of the CETA guys quite well. The current CETA president is a friend and lives here on PEI, so we have been given some tips for places to eat.
Yesterday we headed to the northern coast to a place called The Dunes. It is a gallery, pottery studio, gift shop and restaurant. We ate lunch there and the food was so good and so beautifully displayed that I took pictures of our plates!
I had the soup of the day, sweet potato soup. Larry had mussels to die for.
I also ended up buying some lovely sterling silver earrings and some pottery. We were able to have it shipped. Here's an interesting tidbit--local taxes there are 16+%. We could have it shipped for 20% and no taxes . . . so that seemed like a pretty good option.

We drove back along the northern coast, where, by the way, there is a lot of erosion going on . . . has been for years. Our friends own some property along there and are losing ground annually. The soil here is red, and in fact, one of the local souvenirs are "dirt shirts", white t-shirts that have been stained a rusty red using PEI soil. We stopped briefly at Cavendish, Green Gables fame, but didn't have time to tour the site. We bought a set of the books.

Last night there was a President's Reception at a seaside restaurant. Our gang wasn't impressed with the fare and wanted some "real" food, so, again at the suggestion of our hosts, we headed a few miles west to Kensington, to the Home Place for another wonderful meal. The raw oysters were magnificent, I was told. I had a delicious seafood chowder. Driving along the water, we saw a lot of lines of bouys where something is being farmed or harvested, most likely oysters, we were told.

We all had tickets for a local theater production called "French Toast". It was comedy, music and dance of the Acadian heritage. I knew nothing of this history, but it is fascinating. Canada has it's own stories of deportation and struggle.

Vernon Kennel: 1918 - 2007

2007-08-30T11:50:00.001-04:00

"The boundary lines have fallen for us in pleasant places; surely we have a delightful inheritance. We will praise the Lord . . . " (Psalm 16:6-7, adapted)

Today, O God, as we reflect on the life of Vernon Kennel, our husband, father and grandfather, we give thanks for a lifetime of memories.

-He was a faithful husband.

-He loved his family--children and grandchildren--and enjoyed spending time with them. We remember skinning squirrels, fishing and learning to clean the fish we caught, wrestling on the floor, getting "ear meat," the jeep rides with Uncle Earl.

-He was a participator in games of all kinds. We remember him playing volleyball, softball, hockey ("grandpa on the ice") and golf, as well as hunting and fishing.

-He enjoyed singing. We remember his voice as we sang together at home and at church.

-He loved God, the church and God's word. We remember his faithfulness in church attendance and his support of the church's programs. We remember hearing him quote scripture he had memorized.

-He had a gentle and quiet spirit. He was steady and consistent. We remember his unconditional love and acceptance, that he was easy to be with and we were comfortable in his presence.

-He was generous, sharing his time and his money when needed. We remember his help in our home improvement projects.

-He was well-respected. He lived his faith.

Thank you, God, for his presence in our lives, for his love and his example. May our lives reflect the good things we have learned. May the heritage of love for God and for one another continue from generation to generation. Amen.

Derailed

2007-08-30T09:56:00.000-04:00

Okay, so my long and flowery recitation of events in California got derailed by other things. And my picture journal ended abruptly when my digital camera jumped off my lap into the dirt, causing the lens to freeze. Sigh.

Suffice it to say, the remaining days were filled with fun things . . .

We rode along 17 Mile Drive which wanders through Del Monte Forest and along Pebble Beach. We stopped at various lookout points along the coast. The water, waves, sand and rocks provided beautiful scenes. We saw little hermit crabs along the shoreline, birds and seals, giant kelp and the Lone Cypress. We wound our way through Del Monte Forest. Seeing how very dry the forest was gave us an appreciation for the danger of forest and wild fires. There were also many homes, from the simple ranch style to breathtaking mansions. We saw several new homes under construction.
At Pebble Beach we browsed through the shops, then sat on the patio of the Lodge and had a drink overlooking the golf course, playground of the rich and famous.

Back at the Hyatt, we showered and prepared for an evening of dining and entertainment on the beach. Three or four buses carried the group to the party location. A cash bar provided drinks throughout the evening. There were three fire rings surrounded by beach chairs and numerous tables available.
Dinner was served buffet style. We were offered barbecued chicken, roast beef, roasted potatoes, corn on the cob, tossed salad. Dessert was peach cobbler and fixin's for s'mores. There was an oldies band who weren't too bad when they were actually singing, but they also tried to be humorous, with less success. At one point the leader of the band made his way through the crowd tapping people for a hula-hoop contest. Again, high on hype, short on entertainment. I did make an effort, but wasn't too successful at anything but being a good sport. Later in the evening there was a limbo stick, but most of the participants were kids.

On Thursday afternoon there was a tour of three local wineries. At the first two we simply heard a bit of the history and hype of their wines.
At Chateau Julien, however, we received an informative tour of the process of wine-making. And it was a lovely property as well. The Chateau Julian Cabernet savignon is worth a try.

Thursday evening was the annual banquet. Larry was surprised by being awarded the President's Award for his work as president in the year following reorganization and the reorienting of a new management company.

Friday several of us went to Carmel-by-the-Sea. We browsed through innumerable shops and boutiques, enjoying lunch at the popular Hog's Breath restaurant.

On Saturday we returned to Cannery Row. I enjoyed walking out on the pier which was occupied by a working fishing business with its stained and weather boats, smells of fish, local folks cleaning and selling the day's catch. Many seals were inhabiting the water under the pier and we heard their raucous barking. We had lunch in a small restaurant located out on the pier, but down the steps and looking out at water level. In the evening, a large group of us returned to that area for dinner and our final evening together.

Sunday everyone was up early and headed for the airport and home. In spite of hearing various horror stories of air travel experience this summer, we were grateful to return home, on schedule, with no problems.

Monterey Bay Aquarium

2007-08-15T16:22:00.000-04:00

Wednesday, I was awake by 6:30, so showered and went along with Larry to the exhibit hall for the complementary continental style breakfast . . . fresh fruit and various breads and pastries, coffee and juice. The exhibit hall is one of the ball rooms and there are at least two aisles lined with booths. Several are familiar suppliers of ET products. This years meeting was held with the Society for Theriogenology so there were other exhibitors as well.

Midmorning the four of us who mostly hang together headed to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Actually Larry and another veterinarian joined us, also. (The annual AETA golf tournament was planned for the same time, but Larry seldom joins that event. This year the tournament was held at Del Monte Golf Course, which borders the hotel grounds.)

The aquarium is in the area of Cannery Row, just a few miles from our hotel. We arrived at 10:30, just when the Sea Otters were to be fed, so we made our way to that area. Of course there was a big crowd already assembled, so we didn't get very close while the actual narrated event was happening. Still we watched the otters for a few minutes as they played in the water on the other side of the glass. The otter exhibit is new and features freshwater otters from Africa and Asia along with other aquatic creatures which share their habitat.

Leaving the otters, we decided to split, the men went one way and we went another. We saw lots of colorful creatures. The exhibits were arranged by location in relation to the ocean. "Ocean's Edge" shows the creatures of the coastal habitats. There is a tide pool, a three-story kelp forest, a walk-through wave crash tunnel, and an old wharf on the other side of the glass with crustaceans and starfish, and the beautiful creatures that cling to the surfaces of wood and stone. There are penguins and touch pools with sea stars, decorator crabs and bat rays . . . sea cucumbers, anemones and kelp. We saw shimmering schools of sardines. It was fascinating to watch them swim, weaving this way and that in perfect synchrony, looking almost as a single entity.

The "Outer Bay" area includes a million gallon tank of large deep sea critters . . . sea turtles, tuna, shark and barracuda. There was a large display of exquisite jellies, drifting and pulsing through the water.

There was also an exhibit area devoted to the history of cannery row, "Hovden Cannery". There was actual equipment on display, and large panels with black and white photos showing the workers, telling the stories of the long hours and tough conditions under which these folks worked in the development of mass production of canned sardines.

I was most impressed with the care given to educational features. There were many volunteers, especially at the touch pools, not only to protect, but also able to tell about all the creatures. Nearly every window of every display had a recorded feature. There were a lot of hands on opportunities. The brochure lists their mission: to inspire conservation of the oceans. They've done a great job. There was a small display where folks were given opportunity to write to the governor on issues of conservation, there was a "cafe" in which the chef gave information about endangered food fish . . . along with a little trifold card that listed menu items to enjoy and those to avoid, in the interests of conservation.

Oh, and of course there were the requisite gift shops, which we actually avoided altogether. At about 1:00, we left the aquarium with lunch as our goal. Larry and Dr. Carmichael had caught a cab and headed back to the hotel for the afternoon events scheduled there.

Hyatt - first impressions

2007-08-10T11:28:00.000-04:00

The Hyatt Regency at Monterey is a complex of several buildings that run along side the Del Monte Golf Course. There is a conference center, a Grand Ballroom, large reception area bordered by a bar and restaurant which includes patio seating overlooking one of the greens and fairways of the golf course. There is also a sports bar, "Knuckles." The landscaping and exterior approach are beautifully maintained. The hotel buildings are three stories. Our building is at one end of the complex, so we've done some walking . . . a good thing.

We have not, however, been impressed with the facilities. The rooms are nice, nothing extraordinary. The Hyatt is obviously old, and the carpets and furnishings are a bit worn. The elevator for our building is out of order, so we had to tote our oversized luggage up three flights of stairs to our room, and of course, continue to do a good bit of stair stepping. The stairways aren't impressive either, they look like the stairs in a parking garage. Nothing here is complimentary. Nothing. In addition to our pricey room fee, there is a daily service fee for bottled water and the use of guest services. Wireless internet is available for $9.99 a day.

Now to the food. Upon arrival we were hungry. While walking by the restaurant, we greeted one of the drug company reps . . . Larry knows a great number of these folks, as they see one another year after year. She was eating a Cobb salad which looked pretty good, so we sat down with her and ordered the same. I think it was priced around $12.95. Beverages are a bit pricey, $3.50 for a soda.

More and more of Larry's peers were arriving, so it became reunion time. Lots of laughter, hugs . . . like a big family. This spring I made a digital photo album of Larry's AETA 2004 China trip. We bought copies for the other two vets who were on the trip with him and Larry had great fun presenting them with these books. There are about 300 people here for this event, Larry knows many of them, but there are about eight or ten that we hang with, and we ended up in the sports bar for a dinner that lasted into the evening. I haven't laughed so hard for ages. What a fun loving group, with a history of crazy stories. Actually, this is the group who were on the Board together when the management embezzlement crisis occurred. Lots to laugh about now. It wasn't funny then--and it cost them, too, not only emotionally, but all of them put in some major bucks to keep things going. Enough of that.

We didn't go back to our room until about 11:00 p.m.-- 2:00 a.m. EDT -- a long day.

California, here we come

2007-08-09T14:17:00.000-04:00

Tuesday was travel day. We got up at 4:30 a.m. for our 6:30 flight out of Harrisburg. We were a bit late leaving, so rather than park in the remote parking, we chose the short term lot, and presumed upon our daughters to retrieve the car later in the day.

We found at check-in that Larry's large suitcase exceeded the weight limit by 8 lbs. leading to a $50 surcharge. So much for packing together to save space. There was a modest line waiting at the security check, but it quickly filled up behind us. There were no surprises there, however, just the routine 3-1-1 reminders (all liquids in the carry on must be 3 oz or less, fit in one 1-qt size Ziploc bag), computer out, shoes off, and all that.

We boarded and left Harrisburg in a timely manner with a short flight to Dulles. We took a shuttle to our departing gate and again, boarded and left Dulles on time with no problems. We did get a phone call from our daughter, Fran, who said that as she drove in the lane to sleep at our place after working overnight, she met heifers coming out. It never fails, it seems. Larry goes away and something happens with the animals. We called the farmer who rents the pasture, and he was soon on his way to get them back in the pasture.

The flight to San Francisco was scheduled to be just over 5 hours. The plane was full. We were served a beverage and tiny little package of two biscuits. Breakfast trays, snack paks and alcohol were available for $5 each. Gone are the days when the airlines provided food to economy class!

There were two movies during the flight, Spiderman III and Shrek something or other. I didn't listen to either, couldn't help but see some of it.

When we got off the plane in San Francisco we learned that the temperature was in the 60's, quite a difference from the mid-90's in PA. I noted with interest that there was a Rosetta Stone kiosk in our concourse. Rosetta also had the back cover ad on the flight magazine from SF to Monterey.

The flight from SF to Monterey was delayed by about an hour. Evidently the morning fog had delayed flights for the rest of the day. The flight was fine, very short. Our checked luggage arrived on the conveyor in good shape. We caught a cab to the Hyatt Regency and checked in. It was about 1 p.m. local time -- 4 p.m. at home and we'd eaten nothing but a couple biscuits and a handful of almonds. Time to find something to eat!

Moving Day II

2007-07-30T11:16:00.000-04:00

Our daughter Sarah, her husband Scott and the two little ones moved this weekend, from a townhouse in Mount Joy to a single family home in a development near Etown.

They were still doing some painting Friday night and called for help. We headed over, stopping to pick up some food for dinner on the way. Larry was putting vents and outlet covers back on for awhile, then started painting. I was mostly tending the children. At 8:30, I brought Jade (23 mo. old) back to our house and put her to bed here, since I was keeping her Saturday, moving day, anyway. Larry didn't come home until about 11:00. This is why we were painting:

The carpeting had been replaced in the bedrooms as well. The plan was wait awhile to install new carpet downstairs. However, when they steamed those carpets, they learned something about cats and cat pee . . . it soaks through the carpet into the padding and never goes away . . . it just waits to be released by the next steam treatment. Whew, the whole place stunk. So, their friend, the carpet installer did a rush job, replacing the carpet first thing on Saturday.

Moving day, Saturday, dawned hot and miserable. Too bad everyone was too busy to enjoy the water features. Maybe another day.

The Big Move

2007-07-27T21:07:00.000-04:00

This past weekend, we helped son Nathan and his family move from Lancaster, PA to Fort Mill SC. They are moving as a part of a team training for missions. They packed the Budget moving van on Thursday, then came to our place to spend the night. Larry and I had worked a full busy day, and we arrived home to find our daughter Fran was there starting supper. She and and our other daughter Sarah had planned this meal so we had one last family evening together.

Friday morning, not quite as bright and early as we might have hoped, we headed for South Carolina. The trip went well. Larry drove the truck, pulling our car on a trailer. Nathan started out with him, and I drove their car, allowing Nathan's wife Terah to interact with the children. At New Market, VA, we stopped to refuel the truck and ourselves. At that point, Nathan and I switched places for the remainder of the trip. There was one traffic jam on Rt 77 north of Charlotte NC that slowed us to a crawl for a few miles, but other than that, we did well.

When we arrived at our destination, a cabin on the old Heritage USA property, Fort Mill, SC, their team and other friends from the community were there to greet us....the other two couples who are part of their team also live in cabins, all three just a few yards apart. The truck was unloaded promptly, the bedrooms were set up, and and we ate a delicious meal prepared prepared for us.

Being on the old PTL grounds which we heard so much about in years past was an interesting experience for me. Here is some of what we learned and experienced . . . this property was purchased by MorningStar Ministries about three years ago . Some of you are familiar with Rick Joyner and his ministry in the area of praise and worship. Anyway, they are in the process of restoring some of the main buildings, beginning with the Grand Hotel and the Conference center, for use as Christian retreats and conferences. If you go to the website and follow the H.I.M link, you can see some interesting pictures of the renovation process. They have the hotel and conference center up and running.

Rooms in the Grand Hotel are available just like a motel and that is where we stayed. They are very nice, much like a Comfort Inn, or Holiday Inn Express, except that it is meant now to be a retreat center, so there are barebones amenities, no TV, phones, or hairdryers in the rooms. (And no coffee either!!) Anyway, we stayed there, just across a lawn and parking area from Nathan and Terah's cabin. The huge atrium is currently used as the place of worship for MorningStar Fellowship, though they are "off" for the month of July, so it was quiet around there.

We walked around the old Heritage theme park property, sad and amazed at the decay of what must have been quite a place. The "tower", 20 or so stories, is deteriorating, the brick falling off, windows broken. We walked around the lake (with grandchildren Bella and Noah, giving Terah a chance to set up her kitchen). Buildings crumbling, grown over. Is desolation too strong a word? That's what it felt like out on the back side of the property where the water park used to be.

In addition to renovating for their own ministries MorningStar also rents space to other ministries. That is why Nathan, Terah, and the other two couples on their ministry team/community are renting cabins on this property. Their training, with World Outreach Center, will also take place here on the property.

Anyway, an interesting experience, being here, thinking about all the people who lost money, the poor widows who sent their mites, who believed in the PTL ministry. Larry commented, not only is it sad that Bakkers lived lavishly and exploited people, but we also observe how the place was poorly built and has not held up over these years. And as I was sitting in the mezzanine of the Grand Hotel, where there was wireless internet, I read online that Tammy Faye died on Friday. Another moment for contemplation of all that had happened on that site.

On another note, while planning this trip we realized that Fort Mill is only 25 miles from the JAARS center at Waxhaw, NC. When we visited Yarinacocha, Peru, back in 1978, we learned to know several dedicated people who spent their lives serving with Wycliffe Bible Translators. We have kept in touch with a few of them, most now retired. One of them, a pilot named Doug Deming, lives at Waxhaw. We called

him, met with him and took him out to dinner Saturday night. He is a very interesting man who has had a life full of jungle experience. His wife Sue is in the final stages of altzheimers. He said tonight hospice has begun providing assistance. He also mentioned that he is putting together a power point presentation of her life . . . he speaks of her with such love and tenderness.

Sunday morning, after breakfast together, we said our goodbyes and headed back to Pennsylvania.

July 12-15

2007-07-26T20:32:00.000-04:00

We left Thursday, July 12, to spend the weekend with my husband Larry's extended family. The tradition of spending a weekend at a hunting camp in Slate Run, PA began in 1968, the summer after we were married, when Larry's grandmother and all her children were still living. The group will be celebrating 40 years next summer, and we haven't missed a single weekend. Our children grew up with this tradition, and now they all come, bringing their children, four generations spending the weekend together.

Larry's parents are the only ones of their generation who were present. An uncle and his wife are still living but reside at Garden Spot Village and are unable to participate. This year was the biggest group ever, with seventy people present. Larry's entire family was present, coming from as far as Kona, Hawaii and San Francisco, CA.

Larry's folks packed their car and drove to our place . . . then Dad rode with Larry, and I drove their car with Mother. We had a pleasant trip. I enjoy driving, and it gave us a chance to visit.

The weather was very pleasant, cooler than normal. We had a couple of showers on Saturday, but they didn't last long. Pine Creek was very low this year, and for the first time in a long while, there was little swimming and no one went tubing. The creek was so shallow that the little ones could play freely along the edge.

The cabin is in a prime location. Pine Creek is on one side of the property, relatively new "rails to trails" bike path is on the other side, and the store is a stone's throw down the trail. Most of the families bring bicycles and spend a little time on the trail.

Larry took his bucket along when we went out, and found some ripe raspberries.

When he got back he shared them with the grandchildren who quickly gathered round and chowed down.

There is always multi-generational volleyball, and usually a whiffle ball game with the younger ones. We used to play a rowdy game of softball, but as the group has grown in size, there are more and more tents and campers and there is hardly room to play. Also, there were nasty injuries a couple of times, and so softball was retired to the past. The one that clinched it was about 10 years ago when a cousin got hit in the head with a lightning throw to first. He was knocked out with a serious injury and spent the rest of the weekend in the hospital at Jersey Shore. It put a damper on the weekend for sure.

There is a campfire that burns the whole weekend. We use it for cooking food.(Larry brings a grill hanging from a tripod) and families roast hotdogs and make mountain pies (or hodgie podgies as we like to call them). We had steak and corn
on the cob one dinner.

In the evenings, the whole group gathers around the fire, often staying up until midnight. I don't stay up any more. I enjoy some quiet and don't need the interaction. Besides, I have too much to do when I get home not to get some sleep.

On Sunday we have a worship time around the fire. There is some singing, some "special" music, a scripture, sharing and prayer. Then everyone packs up and heads out pretty quickly. And so it goes, year after year, with slight variations.

The reunion that was . . .

2007-07-04T08:04:00.000-04:00

. . . was not quite as planned, but we had a great time anyway. Kansas sister never did make it to Harrisburg but was redirected to Pittsburgh. Florida brother had his own flight frustrations, but we gratefully gathered, just a bit later in the evening than originally planned. The setting, Tranquil Lodge, near Belleville, PA was a perfect setup for a large family. We were a group of thirty-four spanning four generations.

Hubby and I stopped at Hershey Medical Center for a quick visit with our brother-in-law who is receiving treatment for lymphoma and wasn't able to be with us at the reunion.

Some of the group hiked "One Thousand Steps", the little boys discovered a natural fort, some played pool and air hockey, there was lots of time for conversation. The upstairs loft was lots of fun until someone took the ladder down. We never did get around to the service project.

On Saturday we took group photos on a big rock along the lane. We thought about the two siblings, the grandchildren and great grandchildren who were missing. Maybe next year . . .

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

2007-06-23T07:28:00.000-04:00

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

2007-06-20T20:31:00.000-04:00

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.

2007-06-10T12:33:00.000-04:00

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.

Dark Night*

2005-03-02T11:02:00.000-05:00

Dark night of the soul
obscure depth of being
record of life denied
written beyond my seeing

Shimmering Presence
All-knowing
darkness is not dark to you
a place of interior excavation

Guiding Night
invites me trust
the ongoing process
Grace at work

Active Aura
offers momentary awareness
fleeting glimpses
of sacred possibility

Love beckons me
rest in the mystery
Unknown yet known
hidden life with Life.

*Reflections based on The Dark Night of the Soul by Gerald G. May, M.D.

Signs and Wonders #3

2005-02-12T16:52:00.000-05:00

But the man was anxious to justify himself . . .*

I think I've spent way too much of my life being defensive about my actions and my beliefs. Defensiveness is an antagonistic posture which pulls back, assumes the worst and draws lines for self-protection. It shows a lack of trust and is a barrier to healthy relationship.

I wonder if I can be reprogrammed to respond to challenging perspectives and negative judgements without defensiveness, to disarm potential opponents with an open mind and listening ear.

Disarming openness. I like the sound of it.

*Luke 10:29

Thin Places

2005-02-11T09:19:00.000-05:00

I am on a weekend retreat. It is a time of intentional reflection and guided prayer.

The warmth of the midday sun invites me to leave the austerity of my small, silent room for more colorful and expansive surroundings. I walk into the glistening winter landscape . . . A sensual feast . . . Eyes open, ears tuned.

"Notice." It is spirit's invitation.

Gently rolling hills stretch out before me. Their covering of snow is criss-crossed with tracks, like stitches of a crazy patch quilt, an asymmetric pattern designed by deer and squirrels and rabbits in search of food.

But I see happy children, bundled in woolen snow suits, tracing paths in new fallen snow. The sound of laughter hangs in the frosty air as they chase one another in a game of fox and geese.
When did I forget how to play?

Further along the driveway I hear a curious, rattling sound. I see a large old oak tree. One of its branches is fully lined with clumps of dead, brown leaves, past their season, given life by a gentle breeze.

The dry rustling becomes the sound of applause, increasing in intensity as I approach, as if it were a spontaneous ovation of welcome and encouragement from some great cloud of witnesses. I am aware of my dad and grandpa standing in the front row, clapping, a wordless offering of unconditional love and joyful approval.

I am surprised by an overwhelming sense of affirmation like I've never felt before. It seems a precious and unexpected gift.

Now the end of the driveway comes into view. Large white columns support a gracefully sculpted iron gate, divided in the middle, both parts standing fully open. Residents, retreatants and guests come and go unhindered.

I see a decision point, a marker on the pathway, the proverbial crossroad. The open gate seems to offer freedom of choice. To walk through the gate, away from these grounds says, "Enough, no more." To stay says, "Yes," to continuing this unknown and unpredictable interior journey.

Without hesitation I turn and walk back up the driveway toward the retreat center.

Signs and Wonders #2

2005-01-31T08:54:00.000-05:00

As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.*

In these words I hear an invitation to notice and to savor the unfolding moments of the day, to welcome and to sit comfortably with life's mysteries.

I've always been amazed to hear people declare, with an air of certainty, what is, was, and will be . . . especially when this analysis involves the character or motivation of another person.

It seems to me we bleach our world of color and nuance when we insist that our way of seeing is the only way.

I wonder. Am I limiting aspects of my world to stark black and white? Am I missing the invitation to expand my awareness? To see as others see? To explore and absorb the lavish abundance of a full-color life?

*Luke 2:19

Signs and Wonders

2005-01-21T11:11:00.000-05:00

You blind-sided me, God! I expected an inspiring Word and quiet
reflection. Instead, the scripture ripped open an old wound from the
past. I thought it was already healed, but I was wrong. The pain of
rebuke and rejection was there, fresh and keen. And then I got angry and
confused. What was this about? Why bring it up again? I wrote
furiously in my journal. As usual, writing calmed my thoughts and
opened my heart. It was as though a gentle voice was saying, 'It is
because I love you. I'm making a new creation. Beauty for ashes.'

A Dad is a Dad is a Dad?

2004-11-14T22:36:00.000-05:00

The farmer is a cheery sort.
He likes to talk
a lot
and the laughter that punctuates his words
grates after awhile.

"Stay in the barn," he tells his young son.
"I want to go out."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because."
"But why?"
"Because I said so and that's reason enough."

I swallow hard.
Is it '53 or '03?
Some things seem never to change
This dad, my dad, all dads?

Wonderings

2004-11-14T12:46:00.000-05:00

As we work
the old man stands off to the side
in one of the cattle pens
his arms crossed, resting atop a walking stick.

I once heard that his eyes pierce
that in the deceptive quiet
his mind is whirling
calculating his next business move.

I think I see a twinkle in his eye,
the silence seems warm and friendly,
broken now and then
as he joins the conversation.

I wonder.
Perhaps I am naive
but I prefer to see
this man my friend.