The lights, the lights are calling . . .

The other day, I asked my niece Hannah if she would share a story about the view out her window for the blog, and she kindly obliged (nothing like a little familial love to support my laziness).

((Shameless brag alert)) Hannah attends a university on the east coast on a full--and I mean full--scholarship. She's done an amazing job in her studies and has a true heart for following in His steps. We're all so proud of her! ((end shameless brag))

And now for Hannah's story . . . .

There are four courts in my backyard: basketball, volleyball, street hockey, and food. At night, the neon lights inside the food court create a festive glow all year round. I guess it's part of our sustainability policy to keep the lights on 24 hours. Oh wait, that's the path to prominence.

There are traditional neon lights, in blue and gold of course, and then there are multi-colored words. However, you can't see all of the words through the windows. You might think this silly, why post words if you can't read them from the outside? Because you want to send secret messages . . . . From different angles, you can see different words--many of which are not worth sharing. Imagine students' surprise as they walk past and realize the building is shouting bright orange insults. Eventually the higher-ups caught on and the designer had to change the arrangement. Not so classy, but makes for a good story, right?

Is it worth it?

One of the unintended consequences of putting Kieran in daycare one morning a week has been sickness. As in, he's had a cold ever since that first day he joined up with all the other little children, sang "The Wheels on the Bus," played outside, and refused to eat his yogurt snack.

(Notice the red nose)

His first cold lasted three weeks, and he's had this last one for almost four weeks. I finally took him to visit his pediatrician on Monday, just to make sure he didn't have a sinus infection since the snot was pouring out of his nose at an unprecedented rate. While there, we found out he has an ear infection.

I suppose this phenomenon is akin to the church-nursery-syndrome which we've thus far avoided since Kieran is the only on in our church nursery. I'm left wondering, however, is it worth it? Is providing him with the opportunity to socialize with others of his age really worth the continued sickness? I understand the argument that it's better to build up his immune system while he's young, but is months of one cold after the other really worth it?

I'm interested in your thoughts . . . .

He's Baaa-aaaack

Guess who Seth ran into while he was at Lowe's a few days ago?

I'll give you a hint . . . .

When last we left Geothermal Guy, he had finally finished installing our geothermal system. His parting words were, "I'll be back after the New Year to smooth out the soil so you don't have a big lump in your yard."

True to form, GTG never returned. And we've been left with a large ridge of dirt in our backyard which Seth has had to mow around and over, much to his displeasure. I've threatened off and on over the past months to email GTG and let him know that if he doesn't come finish the job and take care of the dirt before the ground freezes, I'll subtract $500 from our last payment to him since we'll need to take care of it ourselves. Whenever I mention this to Seth, he quietly replies, "Don't do that."

And then Seth bumped into GTG at Lowe's last week. "Oh, hey there Seth, I was just going to call you guys and find out how you were liking the geothermal system."

Repressing his smirk, Seth replied, "It's been working fine and we're happy with it. The only thing we don't like is the mound of dirt you left in our backyard."

"Oh, right, right. Well, just email me a picture of what it looks and we'll figure out the best equipment to get the job done and then come right out and take care of it."

I'm taking bets on when (if ever) GTG makes it out here to finally and completely finish the job.

The Shack

Many months ago I had the occasion to read The Shack by William P. Young. Have you read it? If so, what did you think about it?

I thought quite a few things as I perused the book. In a literary sense, I thought the story was gripping. After all, who wouldn't be taken in by a story about a man searching to understand the meaning behind his young daughter's murder? It purports to answer the question that is near and dear to everyone's heart: why, if there is a loving God, is there so much pain and suffering in the world? The biblical answer delves into our sin and God's just and decreed punishment of it. At the very heart of the answer lies that truth that we, not God, are responsible for the sorrow. . . . this book did not provide the biblical answer. Which leads me to the theological sense of the book . . .

In a theological sense, I thought the book bordered on -- if not jumped right into -- heresy. I've been contemplating writing a review on it but never put thoughts to laptop. And then, the other day, I stumbled upon this review of The Shack. Since it pretty much sums up my thoughts on the matter, I figured I'd save a few keystrokes and simply link to it instead.

You may say, "But, it's fiction--it's not meant to teach theology." Fiction it may be, but theology it teaches. It's difficult for any writer -- of fiction or non-fiction -- to not insert his view of God (and thus, his theology) into his writings. And because this particular book deals with such a tender topic, theology can't be escaped.

Screeches to a halt.

I said I wasn't going to do my own review of the book, didn't I?

Puffy Pancake Dinner

Today was one of those days. One of those days when nothing sounded good to eat for supper.

And so, figuring it would probably behoove all of us to eat something besides toast and butter, I decided upon making a puffy pancake with fruit compote from my Betty Crocker Bridal Edition Cookbook.  

 

And thus I did. Seth got home in time to make the whipped cream and add his flair to the compote. All in all, the day-no-dinner-sounded-good turned out to be a good-dinner-day after all.

Shoes and such

I've mentioned before that Seth is number 5 out of 8 children. Although he didn't necessarily realize the blessings of being in such a position while he was growing up (he was often the unwilling recipient of hand-me-downs), it's been a good position for him to be in as adult.

All of his older siblings have children who are older (by several years) than Kieran. And they have graciously passed on to us many of their toys, games, clothes, and other baby items over the years.

Yesterday, we received more gifts--from my family.

My aunt from California supplied us with a box of shoes from my eight-year-old cousin.

Along with a few other things, which Kieran happily went through and began playing with.

Thanks, Aunt Wendy!

Six Things I Wonder on A Monday's Eve

1. What posseses someone to think, "My life is so fabulous and interesting that I should make a reality TV program about it. People will be fascinated by me and my life."

2. What posseses someone to think, "The mundane details of their life are so riveting that I think I'll watch a reality TV program about them. I'm fascinated by them and their life."

3. Will the grass ever be green again?

4. Why do I keep smelling bacon?

5. Will Kieran ever learn to talk?

6. Is it possible to partake in too many of Dominos 2-medium-pizzas deals? (I"m gonna go ahead and answer this one with a "no.")

I do not have a rooster

Those who intently watch the Egg Counter will have noticed the number slowly increasing. We've been getting one egg fairly consistently, although not every day.

For whatever reason, Henrietta is the one, in my mind, that has been producing the egg, and I've been accusing Chiclet (the brown one in the photo) of being a lazy, good-for-nothing chicken. I've also been accusing her of being a closeted rooster.

After researching "Easter Egger Rooster" online, Seth assured me that she was not, in fact, a rooster. And he was (yet again) proven correct when we discovered not one but two eggs in the nest the other day. Since that time, we've had two eggs on the days they decide to lay. Apparently, both Easter Eggers are now earning their keep. And both are hens.

We're still waiting for the two little red hens to reach the point of lay, which will hopefully be within the next few weeks.

Out of the Holler

We ventured out of the Holler today to have lunch with our friend Georgia at a Mexican restaurant in a little town down by the river (how many prepositions can you use in one sentence?).

After lunch, Kieran and I walked down the street to the little park that sits along the banks of the river.

The weather has been unseasonably warm lately but it's offered a nice extension for outdoor activities.

Rain

 

This afternoon, shortly after Kieran awoke from his nap at 4:30, the sky darkened and a breeze began to blow through the Holler.

Soon enough, this was followed by actual water dripping from the sky.

In case you can't see the rain from the kitchen window, here's a view out the side door.

I'd like to tell you how much rain fell on the plain but I can't. My rain gauge is a bit cracked. The rain lasted for over an hour, however, and there was great rejoicing.

The irony? The L.L. Bean Weather Center said, while it was raining, that it was partly cloudy.

Liar, Liar

I don't normally accuse inanimate objects of possessing the aptitude for morality, however, I've noticed that lately my L.L. Bean weather center has been lying.

You see, when the barometric pressure falls, it showcases little rainclouds, "forecasting" that rain is in the near future for our area.

The trouble is that we haven't had rain for months, despite repeated "rain" showings on the weather center.

This is what it's looked like out our kitchen window since July. Only the grass had gotten progressively browner. In fact, we're seven inches behind in rainfall--definite drought conditions. And definite conditions for needing several loads of water delivered to fill our cistern.

So how does one encourage a weather center to begin to the tell the truth?

Laundry

I don't really have set days on which I do certain periodic chores. And so this was the view when I decided that since I wanted to have something to wear tomorrow, I should probably do a few loads of laundry today.

And thusly, I did.

So, tell me, when do you clean out the lint collector in your dryer? Before you put a new load in? After you take a finished load out? Never? I'm curious.

You know you live in a holler when . . .

. . . as you're driving down the (now-paved) lane, you notice your neighbor's car on its side in the middle of his yard with its engine in an engine hoist nearby.

I don't ask questions. I just live here.

23 Months

Visitors

This was a weekend for visitors.

It began Friday morning with a visit from a physical therapist. Although I had thought Kieran was doing fine with his gross motor skills, the evaluators at his yearly IFSP (individual family service plan) marked him 1.5 standard deviations below average. I was a bit surprised but decided to add a PT to his lineup just to keep tabs on him.

So it was she (Carrie) who came Friday morning. After watching him for an hour, Carrie determined that he was doing mostly what he should be doing for his age and suggested that a monthly visit (instead of weekly) would be fine. I agreed, and so we'll see her again at the end of October.

The next visitor came a few hours later. Our speech therapist recently quit First Steps and since there are now only 2 STs servicing our area, we're again on a waiting list. (Kieran still isn't talking, so ST is definitely something I'd like to keep up with.) In lieu of a ST, our service coordinator suggested adding a developmental therapist, who supposedly can also help with speech.

And so Mary Ann came Friday afternoon to spend an hour with Kieran. To be frank, I found her a bit annoying (mainly in the way she talked), but for the sake of continued therapy in this area, I'll keep her around. For awhile anyway. Our geneticist also mentioned at a recent appointment that he could refer us to the speech pathology division at Children's, which I may follow up on.  

Our next visitors arrived later Friday evening. Kevin (Seth's older brother) and Mark (BIL) came to spend some quality time with Seth out and about on the mountain bike trails at a local state park. Ever-ready-to-work Mark got right to work on Saturday morning digging out some rose bushes which were scraping against the siding and giving me chills--very similiar to the sound fingernails make when dragged across a chalkboard.

This was followed by a bit of rough-housing between Mark and Seth (both wrestlers in high school), which Kieran thoroughly enjoyed.



And after most of the rain passed through on Saturday, Ethan, Seth, Mark, and Kevin set out to ride those trails. Kevin and Mark are both frequent riders. The last time Seth was on a bike was over a year ago. I'm sure you can imagine the pain Seth was in after riding 10+ miles on a mountain bike for the first time in a year.

Other than that minor detail, a good weekend was had by all.