Parkersburg Track Meet

Tonight I attended the annual Falcon track meet in Parkersburg, Iowa……the town hit by the F5 tornado last May. The high school there is currently in the process of being rebuilt.

This morning I asked my son where the track meet was taking place……thinking it could not possibly be held in Parkersburg. He sighed and said, “Mom…..think about it…..the track didn’t blow away.” Ok….right…..that makes sense.

In the next photo, those are square stacks of bricks on the scaffolding:

Ok, Ma….tear your eyes away from the construction zone and pay attention to your son, who is contorting himself in preparation for the shuttle hurdle relay.

Hurdle events are my son’s specialty this year. Here’s a scene from the 110m high hurdle race:

And, here an “oops” moment in the 400m low hurdle event. Yeah, my son had to slow up a bit to avoid running into the guy who had stumbled. That’s the way it goes sometimes.

In the background of the above two photos is a church and an elementary school which survived the tornado. Picture a line running from the track to the front of the church (at the left upper corner of the photo)…….all houses and buildings to the left of the line were destroyed in the storm, and everything to the right of it survived. Tonight I parked to the left of the church on a street lined with brand-new houses.

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(I had a first-time experience tonight:  See those blue porta-potties in the right background of the above photo.  Ya gotta love porta-potties sitting right there in the middle of the mixed crowd of people.  Yeah, I was standing there, waiting my turn to go in.  The person ahead of me in the porta-potty was a handsome guy and when he exited the potty HE HELD THE DOOR OPEN for me to walk in.  What a gentleman!  I was almost speechless, but somehow managed to smile demurely and say, “Why, thank you!”)

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The bright sunshine of the late afternoon and early evening cast some intriguing shadow designs here and there:

Track meets last for a long, long, long time, and often into the twilight hours. With envy, I watched the lucky old sun sink away to peaceful rest beyond the goal posts.

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I have an exceptionally busy weekend coming up. If you don’t see me around your blog, please don’t think I’ve forgotten you or that I don’t care. Promise me you won’t do that. And, I appreciate each and every comment on the previous days' posts. Thank you very much!

Tune in tomorrow for some gossip about Fred and Bessie! And, have a wonderful weekend!

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SkyWatch #40

Welcome to the sight of friendly spring skies over our Iowa farm earlier this week. We’d better enjoy these stark tree branches while we can; before long they’ll be overtaken by GREEN!

The field below is newly-plowed:

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Finally, here is last night’s sunset……including a man

out standing in his field……my husband……checking pocket-gopher holes.

Thank you for stopping by! Please visit Skyley.com to find ever so many more links to friendly skies around the world!

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Crazy for Crocus

Well, if you must know, I have been quite leery of taking Fred and Bessie to the barn to meet the “real” cows, mostly because of the relatively small stature and fragile build of our guest cows. The “real” Holsteins will seem like Goliaths to them! Do you think Fred and Bessie have the psychological fortitude to handle such an encounter? Its a worry, that’s for sure.

This morning, F & B were allowed to meander close to the barn, but not inside. They managed to get lost in the crocus patch near the barn door…..can you imagine that! With great amusement I watched as they circled and sniffed amongst the shoots and closed-up blooms, searching for the way out of the grove of crocuses.

Finally, I convinced Fred and Bessie to follow me into the calf building, where to my great shock they proceeded to frighten poor Miss Muffin so badly that she hid in terror behind the fence. Wow…..its becoming apparent that Fred and Bessie are surprisingly brazen and intimidating despite their miniature size. Muffin confided to me later that she’d never been so scared in her whole month of life. I guess there's no need to worry about Fred and Bessie being cowed by the full-size cows in the barn. Obviously, F & B can hold their own. Previous hosts taught them well!

I decided to try and appease F & B with some calf feed, but they continued to glare menacingly at Muffin the calf.

Finally, Muffin summoned the courage to show her whole face. I was so proud of her! She gave Fred and Bessie the eye until they reluctantly turned their attention to the feed mixture in front of them.

Crunch, crunch, crunch…..oats, corn, molasses. Fred and Bessie said the grainy-sweet dish was “ok”, though not quite on par with what Laura served them in Georgia. They said my cooking will do in a pinch. Humphft!

By afternoon, Fred and Bessie were napping and the crocuses had opened their petals wide to bask in the bright sunshine. FINALLY, we had a WARM day!

Two young friends happened to be spending a few hours here at the farm while their mom ran errands. By delightful chance, the girls were dressed in colors which perfectly matched the crocuses, so we had to take some pictures to commemorate the occasion!

Oh, I like these darker purple blooms! Am I crazy for crocuses right now? You betcha! Last year, this same crocus patch didn’t amount to a hill o’ beans, so I am thrilled at how vigorous and lovely they are this spring. Of course, the blossoms won’t last much longer, so we’d better make the most of them now. The only way to do that is LOOK at them often and take lots of pictures.

The younger girl is almost three years old; she kept telling me she wanted to go see “the cabins”. The “cabins”? I finally figured out that she was talking about the “calves”. In the past, she and her sister have been scared out of their wits by our two enthusiastic dogs who simply want to be friendly with the little girls. Can’t you just hear Buster excitedly pleading, “I’m really nice……please pet me……let’s be pals.”

Ok….somehow I will force myself to not post anymore crocus photos, but I may keep running out to the barn to gaze down at the beautiful colors as the petals move through their various closed and open poses throughout the daylight hours.

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Have a wonderful day!

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Its Daffy Here, Too

Daffy down dilly has come up to town

In a yellow petticoat and a green gown.....

Many blogs have been featuring bright, beautiful daffodils lately, so I'm bein' a copycat for sure. But, who can resist these cheerful ensigns of spring!

Its as if a rollicking trumpet blast could sound forth from them at any moment!

Too-tutu-too-tutu-TOOOOO!!!

That's "ENJOY YOUR DAY!" in daffodil-speak!

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Merry Easter, Etc.

Fred, Bessie, and I have been enjoying Laura’s post about her trip to Missouri and Iowa. The photos brought back such special memories for Fred and Bessie that they were prompted to re-enact one of the scenes……the blissful kiss, no less!

Later, in speechless wonder, they reverently reread “The Legend of Lovers’ Leap”, choking back tears and wincing as they recalled their own “leap” at that self-same spot near Hannibal, Missouri.

Bessie, the ever hopeful and encouraging wife, sees the possibility of superhero fame in Fred’s future:

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Here’s how our church looked at 6:10 a.m. on Easter morning. I was hurrying to a brief, last-minute choir rehearsal before the Sunrise Service began at 6:30. See the round window……that’s the Luther’s Seal window; choir sang from about 10 feet below it.

Actually, I could easily have lingered outdoors to watch the sun rise over the gravestones and fields to the east of the church.

The Sunrise Service was nice, though the church was only about half-full. That service used to draw a full crowd. Afterwards, a breakfast was served in the commons hall, a large multi-purpose room used by the church and school.

I hadn’t planned to attend the 9 a.m. service at our sister church in Readlyn; my plan had been to stay home to peel potatoes and make other preparations for Easter dinner. Somehow, I managed to change my mind, grabbing my coat and sunglasses and hopping into the pickup with Husband. About halfway to Readlyn, I realized my regular eyeglasses were still at home. Great…how stupid…..very nearsighted me would have to survive the church service with no glasses on, for the first time ever.

There had to be a message of some sort in this incident. I felt almost naked and everything was blurry; I had to hold the hymnal practically in my face to see the liturgy and hymns. The only people that were clear were the ones sitting right close around me in the pews; I couldn’t see Pastor’s face as he preached, or the face on the big wooden plaque of Jesus ascending near the ceiling above the altar area. No big deal, but I surely wished I would have stayed home and peeled potatoes.

During the sermon, I imagined God looking down on us from above, shaking his head---chuckling, even---at our self-satisfied and complacent displays of churchiness. Sorry to admit to thinking such a way on Easter, but that's what wandered into my little mind, surrounded as it was by a sea of blurriness.

Thoughts rolled on……perhaps the message of the forgotten eyeglasses is: be content with seeing clearly only that which is in close proximity in space or time---the world within my natural field of vision, or within one single day or hour. Don’t be bothered by things afar off in space or time.

After the service, as I greeted a friend on the way out of church, the words “Merry Christmas” slipped out of my mouth for some unknown reason. We both laughed and she said, “Well, why not attach 'Merry' to Easter…..it would fit!”

Eventually, we arrived back at home and I frantically got busy peeling potatoes, making dressing, warming rolls, and setting tables, before the guests arrived for the 1:00 p.m. Easter dinner. Gone are the days of taking a relaxing drive “to Grandma’s” on holidays. The Grandmas in our families are long gone. My mom doesn’t cook anymore because she’s married to a superb chef who does all their cooking. Sigh.

For Easter dinner I fixed turkey breast in the slow-cooker, dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, ham, green beans, cherry-applesauce jello, homemade dinner rolls, and tapioca pudding from scratch. My step-dad brought a delicious peach-blueberry cobbler and Boston cream pies. My college daughter brought a gooey chocolate pie from Perkins. Mid-afternoon found us stuffed and groaning, with several family members asleep on the couch and in recliners…me included…I was completely exhausted.

I hope you are having a pleasant post-Easter week!

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Today....Too Pooped

Easter seriously wiped me out......too much cooking, too much eating, and too much church have ganged up to render me too pooped to post.

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However, Fred, Bessie, and I sincerely hope that you will surf over to

Silence is Broken to read

Laura's tale about the big trip to Hannibal and Iowa. Fred and Bessie are absolutely glued to the computer screen today as they continually peruse Laura's entertaining post, doubling over with mooey laughter at the sight of their silly antics during the trip.

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Happy Easter!

During our Easter day church services the pastor announces:

CHRIST IS RISEN!

And, the congregation responds with:

HE IS RISEN INDEED!

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Every Easter Sunday we sing the hymn, Lift High The Cross. Our church steeple has been lifting the cross 100 feet high for 136 years!

The cross itself is about 15 feet tall, made of wood, covered in tin, and painted a gold color. It was last painted on June 13, 1998, with my husband, the trusty church trustee, wielding the paintbrush! (He measured the cross while up there, too.) He and I went to the lumber yard and chose the bright gold paint. Back then, I had only a film camera; there was room for one more picture on the roll of film that day, so the lift-truck operator raised Husband back up to the level of the cross and he snapped this perfect shot:

May you have a wonderful day, whether you are celebrating Easter in a religious way or not. Though it be a joyful day, it is also a very exhausting one…..I’ll be looking forward to resting later on.

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(It was a bit of a challenge, but we finally convinced Daisy to pose in her Easter bonnet.)

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Basket Cases

Look where I found Fred and Bessie earlier today……grazing amongst the chocolate eggs in the green grass pasture of the Easter basket! And, all the while I thought they were still snuggled in the little doll bed. Bessie rather looks like she’s still asleep, though, so perhaps she sleep-walked to the Easter basket. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if my little cow guests really ARE basket cases right now, considering what happened to them in Hannibal. I can’t wait until Laura blogs about it, though I’m concerned that Fred and Bessie’s mental state may be slightly cracked as a result of their trauma and they may soon require the services of a COWnselor.

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Here's a lovely crackled-glass egg…..an Easter gift from my sister:

I’ll probably be scarce around blogs for the rest of the weekend……there’s so much going on, and I know you are busy, too. Truthfully, I’d be thrilled to be able to run away by myself to a quiet, lonely place to contemplate and ponder, but, alas, such behavior would be considered antisocial or "mental".

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Here are Miss Kitty’s twins, born last Monday night (they are cardboard box cases):

Have a pleasant Easter Saturday!

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The Easter Bunny & The Blonde

[This arrived in an email recently.]

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A man is driving along a highway and sees a rabbit jump out across the middle of the road.

He swerves to avoid hitting it, but unfortunately the rabbit jumps right in front of the car.

The driver,
a sensitive man as well as an animal lover,
pulls over and gets out to see
what has become of the rabbit.

Much to his dismay,

the rabbit is the Easter Bunny,

and

he is DEAD!

The driver feels so awful that he begins to cry.

A beautiful blonde woman driving down the highway
sees a man crying on the side of the road
and pulls over.

She steps out of the car and asks the man
what's wrong.

"I feel terrible," ! he explains,
"I accidentally hit the Easter Bunny with my car and KILLED HIM."

The blonde says,"Don't worry."

She runs to her car
and pulls out a spray can.
She walks over to the limp, dead Easter Bunny ,
bends down,
and sprays the contents onto him.

The Easter Bunny jumps up,
waves its paw at the two of them
and hops off down the road.

Ten feet away he stops,
turns around and waves again,

he hops down the road another 10 feet,
turns and waves,

hops another ten feet,
turns and waves,

and repeats this again and again and again and again,
until he hops out of sight.

The man is astonished.
He runs over to the woman and demands,

"What is in that can?

What did you spray on the Easter Bunny ?"

The woman turns the can around
so that the man can read the label.

It says…



(Are you ready for this?)
(Are you sure?)

(You know you're gonna be sorry)

(Last chance)

(OK, here it is)

It says,

"HAIR SPRAY:

Restores life to dead hair,
and adds permanent wave."

Happy Easter!!!

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Good Friday Church

Black was the mood and color of the Good Friday church service we attended this morning.

I was sitting in the balcony……here’s how the wall next to me looked:

The walls of our 136-year-old church sanctuary are lined with embossed tin, covered in a coat of paint. The walls are blue, the ceiling is whitish. I was sitting in the balcony, right below the junction of the wall and ceiling, and near the peak of the tall stained-glass windows.

I was sitting with the choir; we sang Were You There When They Crucified My Lord. We had five sopranos, two altos, and five men…..a good turn-out. I used to sing soprano, but switched to alto a few years ago and I love it!

The service consisted of responsive readings of Psalms interspersed with congregational hymns, and Gospel readings done by the pastor. He had a sermon, too, but honestly I can’t recall much about it right now. Mostly, I was thinking about a quote another blogger had mentioned to me recently……something to the effect that “religion can be a place in which to hide from God”. That’s a thought provoker! Do I do such a thing, I wonder? Is it an easier routine to get involved in churchy stuff rather than “Love thy neighbor as thyself” stuff? Could be.

One of the congregational hymns we sang was O Sacred Head, Now Wounded. I get along fine until the fifth verse:

What language can I borrow

To thank you, dearest friend

For this your dying sorrow

Your mercy without end?

Then I choke up and can’t sing the rest of the hymn because I’m thinking of dear friends, and Friend, of course. Nothing I can do about it……it just happens every year.

On Good Friday we’re supposed to focus on Christ’s suffering and death on the cross. I try to, really I do, but then I always go on to think that there have been lots of people who have experienced terrible anguish and sufferings in life, due to tortures or injuries, physical or mental, sometimes lasting for long periods of time. The pastor said Christ’s hours of suffering were ultimately worse because He had to take on the guilt of the sins of ALL people, past, present, and future.

I realize the possibility exists that some readers of this blog are non-Christian. Its OK…..you are welcome here. Please don’t go away. The older I get, the more easily I can see the aspects of Christianity that are not particularly attractive to others. It seems that ALL religions have their negative aspects. I struggle, and have doubts-—believe me, I do---wondering about it all sometimes. Why am I a Christian, anyway? Because I was reared that way. If you are not a Christian…..why is that? Mostly because you weren’t reared that way, probably. We’re all just people trying to make our way through life, usually on a path laid out before us when we were children.

SkyWatch #39 – Good Friday

 

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These shots were taken last fall in our church cemetery, which is bordered by a cornfield.

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To see an altered version of the above photo, go to Paintbox Pictures Blog.

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Thank you for stopping by!  Please visit Skyley.com to find many, many more SkyWatch Friday links.  

Georgia Comes To Iowa

Shhhh!!! Fred and Bessie are resting, completely exhausted following their long journey from Georgia to Iowa. They are also suffering from a serious case of post-traumatic stress syndrome, which Laura~Peach will explain in her blog as soon as she gets the chance.

These five lovely ladies were caught without a camera in their possession, earning them a spot in this next photo. Left to right: my mom, my sister, Martha Jean, my sister, and Laura’s Aunt Betty.

Mmm! The Old Chicago Restaurant in Coralville, Iowa, served up a delicious pizza buffet:

I absolutely gag to see myself in a photo, but since our kind waiter was willing to snap this one for us……here we all are: 

 

Aunt Betty embroidered this beautiful iris quilt-top which Laura is taking back to Georgia to be quilted.

What a delight to get acquainted with Laura, Martha Jean, and Aunt Betty! We heard interesting stories of Georgia and the Hannibal, Missouri, area, where Laura grew up and Aunt Betty lives. Aunt Betty has a friend whose grandfather knew Samuel Clemons/Mark Twain (who lived in Hannibal, Missouri)!

Laura said they will leave Hannibal on Friday for the drive home to Georgia.  May they be blessed with safe driving while traveling on the busy Easter weekend.

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May you, dear readers, have a blessed day today on Maundy Thursday.  Tomorrow’s Good Friday church service is my favorite of the year……we dress and act somberly in honor of the day Christ died and after the service we walk out of the church in complete silence.  If nothing else gets to me during the entire church year……that walking out in silence always manages to do it.  I appreciate the fact that Good Friday is not the type of holiday to be commercialized.  No gifts, no candy, no cards……just a meaningful, mindful silence.