We arrived in London on Wednesday. It took much longer than we expected. The train was late and then was so full that we had to stand in the connector for almost 3 hours. I finally put the children's backpacks on the floor and used them for seats for them. I was pretty angry that we had paid full fare to not be able to move our feet two inches and be crammed in the connectors between cars, like war refugees. But I felt a little better when I talked to the people who were sitting in the next connector and discovered that they had reserved, first class tickets. Thank goodness Don didn't pay the extra money for first class tickets for us.
Once we arrived in Euston Station, we had to find the correct subway line and figure out how to do tickets. It took me a while, standing in queue's for information, the route map, then again for tickets, not to mention getting through the gates once the tickets were in my hand. Along the way, my watch got stolen - ripped right off my hand with cut nuckels to boot. But I didn't discover the missing watch until much later. It's frustrating, though, not having a watch. I'm constantly pulling up my shirt sleeve and staring at my empty arm before realizing that there's nothing there.
Check-in at the hotel was 2 p.m. We were supposed to arrive around 1 and thought we'd try and check in early. By the time we changed trains a couple of times and found our way out of the tube station, then got our bearings and made our way about a mile down the road to the hotel, it was about 4:30, and we were just plain tired. We settled in, dropped off our luggage, and headed out for dinner, discovering that the person who had given us directions to the hotel from the tube had sent us the long way around, and the hotel was really only about 1/2 mile away.
Now to the good part. Don had booked a tour for us on a bus tour. The tickets were good for two days and included a free cruise of the Thames' River. We started out the day Thursday taking the tube to Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard, then hopped on our bus tour (on the second story of the open-top, of course) and did the entire loop around London to familiarize ourselves with the city. We planned to start seeing the sites first thing Friday, but we wanted to fit the cruise in on Wednesday after dark so we could see the lights of the city. We did all that, and had a wonderful time.
The highlights were Buckingham Palace. We had trouble seeing anything, although the Palace Guard band played showtunes during the whole ceremony, and that was fun. As the guards marched off through the Gate, some Spanish women who were right at the barricade called Dane up to get a front-row look. A belated officer came walking up to the gate and the bobby let him out, then turned to go back through the gate, when he saw Dane. He walked over and asked Dane if he had enjoyed the ceremony, then gave him a button that had fallen off the uniform of one of the Palace guards. Dane was floored. People gathered around to look at the button and oohed and aahed about the whole situation. It was pretty amazing.
By late last night, after we had dinner in town and were catching a bus towards home, we were surprised at how much we recognized about the city from our tour. We went down Fleet Street, past Prince Albert's ( a pub), and turned the corner at Trafalgar Square. "Oh, look, there's Trafalgar!" It was just bizarre - recognizing places in London. We got home to the hotel, exhausted, but happy. It was about 11:30 before we got the children to bed.
Another surprise was that our hotel serves breakfast. We had been told they didn't do breakfast, but it turns out a Continental breakfast is included, which means we can save a little money on food bills. This morning, we rose fairly late. Everyone except me and Daelyn slept in. Once we had all eaten and gotten ourselves together, we headed back into town. We started at the Tower of London, which was where all the children wanted to go the most.
We toured the Bloody Tower and saw the Crown Jewels, which are kept in the Tower. Then we went to the bathrooms and I pulled out dress clothes, dress shoes and nylons for Deanna, a suitcoat and tie for Don, and they changed. Don had purchased tickets for him and Deanna to see a Show and we kept it a surprise for her. We decided he'd take her, even though it was more MY thing than his, because she needed time with her Daddy. She was very excited, although she couldn't even begin to guess what the surprise was. We sent her and Don off to see "Wicked", then the boys and I spent more time touring the Tower. It is officially still a Palace of the Realm and all the 34 Yeoman Wardens live on the property. We spent quite some time talking with the Yeomen (Beefeaters) and found out some amazing things. Later, we saw two young Palace guards walking through the courtyard inside the tower and went to speak with them. I was showing Dane their coats and the buttons that looked just like the one he got at Buckingham when I noticed the guard I was talking with was missing a button. We laughingly told him our story. Turns out, he was on duty at Buckingham Palace the day before (Thursday) and was marching in the Changing of the Guard ceremony when he lost his button. HIS WAS THE BUTTON DANE WAS GIVEN. We couldn't believe it. The chance of being given a button from a uniform when Dane was just one of hundreds of thousands of people crammed into the square in front of the Palace was astronomical to begin with. Then to run into the very Guard who had lost his button at that ceremony the next day at a different palace is truly nothing short of amazing.
He kindly told Dane to keep the button and commented that if he had eaten less Christmas Dinner, he might not have popped his button.
Needless to say, we had a wonderful time. The boys and I then made our way to the London Eye, a ferris-wheel type observation point, that lifts you around 500 feet into the air in a glass capsule over the Thames'. We got there after dark but the view was beautiful and the boys loved it. Then we took off to meet Don and Deanna at Victoria Station.
We stopped at a little bakery stand for pasties for dinner and sat in a bus shelter to eat. Then we hopped on a bus and went to Trafalgar Square so I could look at the fountains and sculptures. Tomorrow morning, we're hoping to head for Westminster and, maybe, the replica of the Globe Theater. I can already see there's far more in this area that I'm going to want to visit than we have time for. Don pronounced tonight that we won't be going to Stonehenge - no time. Deanna wants to see St. Paul's, and I simply must walk through Piccadilly Circus.
We head for home Sunday, far sooner that I would like, but Don wants to get some rest before he has to go back to work on January 2. I'm sure glad we didn't try to cram Paris into this trip, as well. We would have had to really shorten our time in London, and I wouldn't have been able to see nearly enough.
London is a big city and, like big cities the world over, people are in a hurry and are much less friendly than up north. But there are more tourists here than natives, and we've found many very nice people. Lots have been kind and helpful, and then there were the Spanish women who pulled Dane up and the New Yorkers who squooshed us into their places at the fence so we could take pictures through the bars. People everywhere are kind is you just give them a chance.
It looks like we're not going to get to Bath or Stratford-upon-Avon this trip. The children and I will have to plan some day trips.
Deanna was thrilled with her Opera, the boys were delighted to see weapons of torture and the chopping block that was used for beheadings. I had a wonderful time talking with the Yeomen and the Palace Guards about Dianna, Charles, and Camilla, as well as Harry and William. According to the young Palace Guards, the Queen Mother used to bring glasses of ice water out to them on hot summer days. She was dearly loved by the young men who were honored to guard her and is deeply missed since her death in 2002. Public opinion about Camilla seems to be shifting and there's speculation that Charles may declare her the Queen once he's crowned King. Lots of interesting stuff to talk about over here.
Once we get home and sleep for a few days, I'll post again from the Culcheth Library. Don's been informed that the government has extended the time for companies to submit their bids (what he's over here doing) until Feb. 21, so we may be staying longer than anticipated. Don won't know anything for sure until the middle of January. I'm missing the puppy terribly and am just about ready to come home. I'm tired of being cold and muddy, very tired of 4 hours per load of wash, and am ready to get back to our real life, although this has been an amazing experience.
Hope all is well with all my family and friends and that each of you had a blessed Christmas.
One last funny story - on Christmas Eve, we went to the 5 p.m. family service at Church. It was a candlelight service and we were expecting somberness. Instead, we sang the Holy Hokey (to the tune of the Hokey Pokey) and some song about "Little Donkey". It was very different and not quite what I would consider serious and thought-provoking. But it was Christmas Eve, and not much would deter our excitement.
We had a wonderful Christmas. The children were all very pleased with their presents and surprised with how much they received. We were all very thankful.
God is good and His love for us is evident to us everyday. It's only because of his great love for us that we're in England now enjoying the marvels of his creation.
God bless you all and Cheerio until we meet again.
Friday, December 29, 2006
London Bridge is Falling Down
We arrived in London on Wednesday. It took much longer than we expected. The train was late and then was so full that we had to stand in the connector for almost 3 hours. I finally put the children's backpacks on the floor and used them for seats for them. I was pretty angry that we had paid full fare to not be able to move our feet two inches and be crammed in the connectors between cars, like war refugees. But I felt a little better when I talked to the people who were sitting in the next connector and discovered that they had reserved, first class tickets. Thank goodness Don didn't pay the extra money for first class tickets for us.
Once we arrived in Euston Station, we had to find the correct subway line and figure out how to do tickets. It took me a while, standing in queue's for information, the route map, then again for tickets, not to mention getting through the gates once the tickets were in my hand. Along the way, my watch got stolen - ripped right off my hand with cut nuckels to boot. But I didn't discover the missing watch until much later. It's frustrating, though, not having a watch. I'm constantly pulling up my shirt sleeve and staring at my empty arm before realizing that there's nothing there.
Check-in at the hotel was 2 p.m. We were supposed to arrive around 1 and thought we'd try and check in early. By the time we changed trains a couple of times and found our way out of the tube station, then got our bearings and made our way about a mile down the road to the hotel, it was about 4:30, and we were just plain tired. We settled in, dropped off our luggage, and headed out for dinner, discovering that the person who had given us directions to the hotel from the tube had sent us the long way around, and the hotel was really only about 1/2 mile away.
Now to the good part. Don had booked a tour for us on a bus tour. The tickets were good for two days and included a free cruise of the Thames' River. We started out the day Thursday taking the tube to Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard, then hopped on our bus tour (on the second story of the open-top, of course) and did the entire loop around London to familiarize ourselves with the city. We planned to start seeing the sites first thing Friday, but we wanted to fit the cruise in on Wednesday after dark so we could see the lights of the city. We did all that, and had a wonderful time.
The highlights were Buckingham Palace. We had trouble seeing anything, although the Palace Guard band played showtunes during the whole ceremony, and that was fun. As the guards marched off through the Gate, some Spanish women who were right at the barricade called Dane up to get a front-row look. A belated officer came walking up to the gate and the bobby let him out, then turned to go back through the gate, when he saw Dane. He walked over and asked Dane if he had enjoiy
Once we arrived in Euston Station, we had to find the correct subway line and figure out how to do tickets. It took me a while, standing in queue's for information, the route map, then again for tickets, not to mention getting through the gates once the tickets were in my hand. Along the way, my watch got stolen - ripped right off my hand with cut nuckels to boot. But I didn't discover the missing watch until much later. It's frustrating, though, not having a watch. I'm constantly pulling up my shirt sleeve and staring at my empty arm before realizing that there's nothing there.
Check-in at the hotel was 2 p.m. We were supposed to arrive around 1 and thought we'd try and check in early. By the time we changed trains a couple of times and found our way out of the tube station, then got our bearings and made our way about a mile down the road to the hotel, it was about 4:30, and we were just plain tired. We settled in, dropped off our luggage, and headed out for dinner, discovering that the person who had given us directions to the hotel from the tube had sent us the long way around, and the hotel was really only about 1/2 mile away.
Now to the good part. Don had booked a tour for us on a bus tour. The tickets were good for two days and included a free cruise of the Thames' River. We started out the day Thursday taking the tube to Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard, then hopped on our bus tour (on the second story of the open-top, of course) and did the entire loop around London to familiarize ourselves with the city. We planned to start seeing the sites first thing Friday, but we wanted to fit the cruise in on Wednesday after dark so we could see the lights of the city. We did all that, and had a wonderful time.
The highlights were Buckingham Palace. We had trouble seeing anything, although the Palace Guard band played showtunes during the whole ceremony, and that was fun. As the guards marched off through the Gate, some Spanish women who were right at the barricade called Dane up to get a front-row look. A belated officer came walking up to the gate and the bobby let him out, then turned to go back through the gate, when he saw Dane. He walked over and asked Dane if he had enjoiy
Thursday, December 21, 2006
A Very English Christmas
Cheerio! It's almost Christmas and the weather outside is frightful.
Father Christmas visited our cul-de-sac on his sleigh this week. The Rotary Club float goes around from neighborhood to neighborhood, playing Christmas music and Father Christmas hands out candy to all the children. He looks suspiciously like our Santa, but speaks with an English accent.
We were just sitting to dinner when there was a knock at the door and a man with a tin for donations told us that Fr. Christmas was on his way. The children ran out the door, coatless and shoeless, to see him. One of the neighbor children, Sam, had been just ready for his bath, so his Mum was carrying him, shirtless and shoesless (which made me feel way better about my kids).
Last Friday, we had a Christmas Tree Decorating Party. We invited folks from Don's office for an Open House, to start at 7 p.m. My worst fears were realized when there was a knock on the door at ten till seven, and I opened it to find a line of single-file people, all the way across our front driveway and out the gate, then turning down the sidewalk. There were about 20 people, all who showed up at the same time. Apparently, the bus that picks them up at work and takes them home to the hotel at night dropped them at our house, instead. The party arrived.
I began greeting people as they filed in the house, taking their coats and smiling. By the time I got to the fifth person, I realized I didn't recognize a soul. I got a little nervous. I know MOST of the people who work with Don, AND we went to that Christmas Party where I at least SAW everyone. But these people were total strangers. Finally, when I got to guest #7, I recognized a face, and everyone from there on. They must have stacked the deck to throw me off kilter.
At 9:00, a minibus showed back up and everyone said a quick good-bye and headed out the door - very busy and very crowded, but ended all too early. Thank goodness, we had also invited some friends of ours that we met over here, who showed up about 8:30, we they stayed and we had a wonderful time.
Several people brought ornaments for our lovely little tree and everyone seemed to bring presents for the children. They were in Seventh Heaven. I made Hot Buttered Rum and Hot Spiced Cider and had sodas on hand, NONE of which got drunk (but my Hot Buttered Rum's almost all gone).
We've had a low-key week, getting last minute stuff done for Christmas. Today, I'm taking the children in Warrington. They've set up an ice skating rink in Town Centre. We'll meet Don there for dinner and then go shopping. I had to stop at the library for recipes for Pumpkin Pie and Pecan Pie - the little things you take for granted at home. I'm just hopeful I can find all the ingredients I need.
Last year, we started a new tradition with the children. I've always wanted to have a Christmas Eve meal tradition, and last year we had fondue. It was a huge hit and the children definately want to continue it, but I wasn't sure I could pull it off over here. I was talking with a friend from church, Jill (the lady who's invited us over on Christmas Eve night), and her husband asked if I'd like to borrow a fondue pot. That evening, at the Festival of Carols at church, they brought the fondue pot and forks, the fuel for it, and a recipe so we can have our fondue. It was very kind.
When we come home, I'm going to miss 'single cream' and 'double cream'. Deanna's already bemoaning the loss of her plentiful gouda cheese, and the boys are upset about not being able to get toffee yogurt at home. We have fallen in love with England.
We found out you have to have a TV license to play a TV. Don bought a license - £350 for a year - a staggering $700 just to be able to watch TV in your home. The Company's paying for our license, since we'll only be using it for 6 weeks.
We're going to London for 5 days after Christmas. We were hoping to get to Paris, also, but the trainride was going to cost £850, which seemed a little steep for 3 days in Paris. So, we'll have to save up our frequent flier miles and plan a trip to mainland Europe soon.
We're hoping to get to Scotland in January but don't have any plans yet.
Don got me a pay-as-you-go cellphone, so I can make limited calls. Daytime calls (before 7:30 p.m.) cost 30p a minute (60 cents) and they charge by the second. Add to that the cost of the calling card for International use and it's fairly expensive. BUT (the big but) I've qualified this week for free weekend calls and my calling card is offerring free calls to the U.S. on Saturday between noon and midnight our time (7 a.m. and 7 p.m. Georgia time), so I plan on spending the entire day on the phone.
I can't figure out how to e-mail from the library - it's very difficult to get on bellsouth from over here - so I'm afraid I can't easily send notes to all my friends. This will have to suffice.
Mark and Rachel, thanks for the comments on my last post. It's wonderful to hear from our friends at home. Rach, I sure miss you and the boys.
Donovan's first birthday is Christmas. We sure are missing him. But Deanna says it's time to sign off now and head to the bus stop, so Merry Christmas to all out there in Bloggerland.
Anne, Kelly, Andree (thanks for the thoughtful Christmas card - we got a package from Michelle Scott, also, with a card, an ornament for Deanna, and gifts for the boys), Katharine, Becky, Heather, Rach, Sherrie, Karen, the Francis', Ken, and all my beloved family - MERRY CHRISTMAS from the Doughty's in Jolly ol' England. We love all of you and miss you.
Father Christmas visited our cul-de-sac on his sleigh this week. The Rotary Club float goes around from neighborhood to neighborhood, playing Christmas music and Father Christmas hands out candy to all the children. He looks suspiciously like our Santa, but speaks with an English accent.
We were just sitting to dinner when there was a knock at the door and a man with a tin for donations told us that Fr. Christmas was on his way. The children ran out the door, coatless and shoeless, to see him. One of the neighbor children, Sam, had been just ready for his bath, so his Mum was carrying him, shirtless and shoesless (which made me feel way better about my kids).
Last Friday, we had a Christmas Tree Decorating Party. We invited folks from Don's office for an Open House, to start at 7 p.m. My worst fears were realized when there was a knock on the door at ten till seven, and I opened it to find a line of single-file people, all the way across our front driveway and out the gate, then turning down the sidewalk. There were about 20 people, all who showed up at the same time. Apparently, the bus that picks them up at work and takes them home to the hotel at night dropped them at our house, instead. The party arrived.
I began greeting people as they filed in the house, taking their coats and smiling. By the time I got to the fifth person, I realized I didn't recognize a soul. I got a little nervous. I know MOST of the people who work with Don, AND we went to that Christmas Party where I at least SAW everyone. But these people were total strangers. Finally, when I got to guest #7, I recognized a face, and everyone from there on. They must have stacked the deck to throw me off kilter.
At 9:00, a minibus showed back up and everyone said a quick good-bye and headed out the door - very busy and very crowded, but ended all too early. Thank goodness, we had also invited some friends of ours that we met over here, who showed up about 8:30, we they stayed and we had a wonderful time.
Several people brought ornaments for our lovely little tree and everyone seemed to bring presents for the children. They were in Seventh Heaven. I made Hot Buttered Rum and Hot Spiced Cider and had sodas on hand, NONE of which got drunk (but my Hot Buttered Rum's almost all gone).
We've had a low-key week, getting last minute stuff done for Christmas. Today, I'm taking the children in Warrington. They've set up an ice skating rink in Town Centre. We'll meet Don there for dinner and then go shopping. I had to stop at the library for recipes for Pumpkin Pie and Pecan Pie - the little things you take for granted at home. I'm just hopeful I can find all the ingredients I need.
Last year, we started a new tradition with the children. I've always wanted to have a Christmas Eve meal tradition, and last year we had fondue. It was a huge hit and the children definately want to continue it, but I wasn't sure I could pull it off over here. I was talking with a friend from church, Jill (the lady who's invited us over on Christmas Eve night), and her husband asked if I'd like to borrow a fondue pot. That evening, at the Festival of Carols at church, they brought the fondue pot and forks, the fuel for it, and a recipe so we can have our fondue. It was very kind.
When we come home, I'm going to miss 'single cream' and 'double cream'. Deanna's already bemoaning the loss of her plentiful gouda cheese, and the boys are upset about not being able to get toffee yogurt at home. We have fallen in love with England.
We found out you have to have a TV license to play a TV. Don bought a license - £350 for a year - a staggering $700 just to be able to watch TV in your home. The Company's paying for our license, since we'll only be using it for 6 weeks.
We're going to London for 5 days after Christmas. We were hoping to get to Paris, also, but the trainride was going to cost £850, which seemed a little steep for 3 days in Paris. So, we'll have to save up our frequent flier miles and plan a trip to mainland Europe soon.
We're hoping to get to Scotland in January but don't have any plans yet.
Don got me a pay-as-you-go cellphone, so I can make limited calls. Daytime calls (before 7:30 p.m.) cost 30p a minute (60 cents) and they charge by the second. Add to that the cost of the calling card for International use and it's fairly expensive. BUT (the big but) I've qualified this week for free weekend calls and my calling card is offerring free calls to the U.S. on Saturday between noon and midnight our time (7 a.m. and 7 p.m. Georgia time), so I plan on spending the entire day on the phone.
I can't figure out how to e-mail from the library - it's very difficult to get on bellsouth from over here - so I'm afraid I can't easily send notes to all my friends. This will have to suffice.
Mark and Rachel, thanks for the comments on my last post. It's wonderful to hear from our friends at home. Rach, I sure miss you and the boys.
Donovan's first birthday is Christmas. We sure are missing him. But Deanna says it's time to sign off now and head to the bus stop, so Merry Christmas to all out there in Bloggerland.
Anne, Kelly, Andree (thanks for the thoughtful Christmas card - we got a package from Michelle Scott, also, with a card, an ornament for Deanna, and gifts for the boys), Katharine, Becky, Heather, Rach, Sherrie, Karen, the Francis', Ken, and all my beloved family - MERRY CHRISTMAS from the Doughty's in Jolly ol' England. We love all of you and miss you.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Liverpool and Manchester
Hello, friends. I'm writing from the Culcheth Library. They do have free Internet Access here, but I keep hitting a slashmark instead of the cap key.
We had a wonderful week last week. We went to Liverpool on Friday (Rachel, Deanna picked up a postcard for Ethan - I tried to talk her into a bumper sticker, but she couldn't seem to get past the fact that Ethan doesn't own a car) and visited The Beatle's Story and a Maritime Museum. Everything in Liverpool is free. We had a wonderful day and spent some time shopping in Town Centre. On the way out, we found a Disney store that Deanna wanted to look through and then a McDonald's. Deanna and Dane really wanted a good, old-fashioned American hamburger, so we ate there (although drinks over here are rather strange - all sodas are sugar-free). Daelyn discovered they had an upstairs, so we chose a window-side table and he stood up watching the buses drive by and enjoying the Liverpool nightlife from the 2nd story of McDonald's. Then we took a train for home. When the train arrived in Birchwood, we waited a while for the bus (I used my handy-dandy flashlight to check the schedule) before discovering that Birchwood is a business center and the buses don't run into the late evening. It was around 8 p.m. One of the Bobby's standing around offerred to call us a cab and, while we were waiting on it, my cellphone rang. I answered it to find my father on the other end. What a wonderful surprise!! I had just gotten it the day before, but Don had sent out an e-mail that morning with my number and Papa decided to put the International Calling Card I bought him before I left to good use. We didn't get to talk for long, though, before the taxi arrived and we headed for home.
The next day, some of the folks in Don's office needed a break, so the Company arranged for a bus to take anyone wanting to go into Manchester to Trafford Center, a HUGE high-end Mall, anchored by the English equivalent of Rich's. Don signed me and the children up but expected to be working, so we were going to try it on our own. When we got home Friday night from Liverpool, he told me that he had decided to go with us and had gotten himself on the bus, as well. I was thrilled - half a day with Daddy exploring Manchester. We were to meet at his office at 2 p.m. to board the bus and it would return at 9 p.m. Some of the Americans wanted to see a movie at the many theaters in Trafford.
When we arrived and disembarked in Manchester, I asked the man parking buses how to get a Metrolink Shuttle into downtown. He told me that the Shuttle stopped right where we were standing. We took it to the last stop, then picked up a Tram and headed into town. There was a European Market in Town Center. We wandered around, looked at booths, checked out the cheeses and bratwurst, watched them making German pancakes, bought some gingerbread from a Danish cookiemaker, had some spicy sausages for dinner, then decided to head back for Trafford. It was about an hour after dark and we were starting to get cold. As we were walking away, we heard a band playing and walked back to the edge of the market where 4 young men had set up their instruments and were playing Christmas carols. We sang softly along with them. The air was crisp and the wind was in our faces. We could smell the bratwurst and gleuwine in the air and the lights were twinkling around us. It was one of those precious moments in time. I put my arm around Deanna's shoulders and squeezed them. She looked up into my eyes and had tears in hers.
"Mama, this was worth the trip. I'm glad we're here."
This has been a hard time for her to be away from all her friends. She's missing her family and the festivities at home and every few days asks if she can call one of her friends to hear a voice from home.
Today, some friends from Augusta arrived - Andrea Prunier, for those of you who know her, and her sister. They'll be staying with us for a couple of days. We're trying to teach them some of the ropes.
We don't have any further travel plans before Christmas, unless something comes along that we can't resist. After Christmas, we're planning on doing London and, maybe, heading across the Channel. In January, we hope to visit Scotland.
A few more entries for our American/English Dictionary:
Vegetables - veg
Cup of tea - brew
yards - gardens
Sidewalk - pavement
bathroom - toilets
I'm sure there's lots more, but Deanna's late for tea with a friend, so we've got to go. I'll try and write again before Christmas.
We had a wonderful week last week. We went to Liverpool on Friday (Rachel, Deanna picked up a postcard for Ethan - I tried to talk her into a bumper sticker, but she couldn't seem to get past the fact that Ethan doesn't own a car) and visited The Beatle's Story and a Maritime Museum. Everything in Liverpool is free. We had a wonderful day and spent some time shopping in Town Centre. On the way out, we found a Disney store that Deanna wanted to look through and then a McDonald's. Deanna and Dane really wanted a good, old-fashioned American hamburger, so we ate there (although drinks over here are rather strange - all sodas are sugar-free). Daelyn discovered they had an upstairs, so we chose a window-side table and he stood up watching the buses drive by and enjoying the Liverpool nightlife from the 2nd story of McDonald's. Then we took a train for home. When the train arrived in Birchwood, we waited a while for the bus (I used my handy-dandy flashlight to check the schedule) before discovering that Birchwood is a business center and the buses don't run into the late evening. It was around 8 p.m. One of the Bobby's standing around offerred to call us a cab and, while we were waiting on it, my cellphone rang. I answered it to find my father on the other end. What a wonderful surprise!! I had just gotten it the day before, but Don had sent out an e-mail that morning with my number and Papa decided to put the International Calling Card I bought him before I left to good use. We didn't get to talk for long, though, before the taxi arrived and we headed for home.
The next day, some of the folks in Don's office needed a break, so the Company arranged for a bus to take anyone wanting to go into Manchester to Trafford Center, a HUGE high-end Mall, anchored by the English equivalent of Rich's. Don signed me and the children up but expected to be working, so we were going to try it on our own. When we got home Friday night from Liverpool, he told me that he had decided to go with us and had gotten himself on the bus, as well. I was thrilled - half a day with Daddy exploring Manchester. We were to meet at his office at 2 p.m. to board the bus and it would return at 9 p.m. Some of the Americans wanted to see a movie at the many theaters in Trafford.
When we arrived and disembarked in Manchester, I asked the man parking buses how to get a Metrolink Shuttle into downtown. He told me that the Shuttle stopped right where we were standing. We took it to the last stop, then picked up a Tram and headed into town. There was a European Market in Town Center. We wandered around, looked at booths, checked out the cheeses and bratwurst, watched them making German pancakes, bought some gingerbread from a Danish cookiemaker, had some spicy sausages for dinner, then decided to head back for Trafford. It was about an hour after dark and we were starting to get cold. As we were walking away, we heard a band playing and walked back to the edge of the market where 4 young men had set up their instruments and were playing Christmas carols. We sang softly along with them. The air was crisp and the wind was in our faces. We could smell the bratwurst and gleuwine in the air and the lights were twinkling around us. It was one of those precious moments in time. I put my arm around Deanna's shoulders and squeezed them. She looked up into my eyes and had tears in hers.
"Mama, this was worth the trip. I'm glad we're here."
This has been a hard time for her to be away from all her friends. She's missing her family and the festivities at home and every few days asks if she can call one of her friends to hear a voice from home.
Today, some friends from Augusta arrived - Andrea Prunier, for those of you who know her, and her sister. They'll be staying with us for a couple of days. We're trying to teach them some of the ropes.
We don't have any further travel plans before Christmas, unless something comes along that we can't resist. After Christmas, we're planning on doing London and, maybe, heading across the Channel. In January, we hope to visit Scotland.
A few more entries for our American/English Dictionary:
Vegetables - veg
Cup of tea - brew
yards - gardens
Sidewalk - pavement
bathroom - toilets
I'm sure there's lots more, but Deanna's late for tea with a friend, so we've got to go. I'll try and write again before Christmas.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
It's Raining Again
Don asked me last night to write a new post. Sorry it’s been so long. We’re awfully busy and this laptop is a pain to type on. Then Don has to retype everything onto a computer at work that is connected to the Internet.
First of all, we’re in our house. We moved into a 3-bedroom house last Thursday. A driver arrived at the hotel in a minivan to pick me and the children and all our luggage up to take us to Culcheth, a little burrough to the NE of Warrington. It’s only a 5-min. drive from Don’s office and there are several guys that work with Don who live in apartments nearby and can give him rides to and from work. It took the driver 2 trips.
We, however, have no transportation, no phone, and no Internet, so communication is a little challenging. The children and I have become very proficient at riding buses. You wait in front of the BP gas station (there is a bus shelter there) for buses going West, as to Leigh,
Yesterday, we schooled hard in the morning, then went into Leigh in the afternoon. They have a Mall and an indoor Market, which is my preferred way to shop for meat, fruit and vegetables. Market prices are very much cheaper than the stores, although we’ve found that everything in the grocery stores over here is marked with a end of display date (even potatoes and carrots), and once that date is reached, they mark the item down to next to nothing. We picked up a 5-lb. bag of the best potatoes I’ve ever eaten for 40 p (p is short for pence, 100 of which make up a pound.) That’s about $.80 American.
In general, prices seem to be about the same over here as at home (cheese is cheaper, though) but the dollar is making such a poor showing right now, with the exchange rate being at an all-time low, that in dollars, the price is twice what we would normally pay. We watch for bargains whenever we can – we pick up milk that is at the display date (got two 2-ltr. jugs last week for 60 p each), we found a pork loin cooked with rosemary, normally about 2 pounds per 100 grams, for 4.99 (lbs., that is) a kilogram, which is only 49 p 100 grams. We got 400 grams and had enough for wonderful sandwiches for all of us for lunch for 3 days.
The Saturday after Thanksgiving, Don took off and we went to
The children and I made it to
A funny story – I mentioned that we’re frequenting train and bus stations. Last night, we were sitting in the bus station in Leigh waiting for the bus home to Culcheth when an announcement came over the Intercom to keep your luggage with you at all times. Deanna turned and looked at me and said, “It sounds just like the announcements they make in the plane station.” I cracked up and reminded her that we usually call them airports, not “plane stations”. We also saw a funny sign inside a bus in
We live in a cul-de-sac and there are lots of children around. Although Friday was a little slow for the kids, on Saturday, the place livened up considerably, and our house seems to be the hubbub of activity. There’s Lucy and Sam two doors down (Lucy’s 7, Sam’s 4) and George and Lewis at the opposite end of the cul-de-sac (George is 7, Lewis is 5). Still haven’t found any girls Deanna’s age, but she enjoys playing with Lucy. The children are living outside and are delighted to have a backyard, a front yard and a huge ballfield in the center of the cul-de-sac. It’s not exactly center circle, and the children are picking up a few bad habits, but at least they have other children to play with, and what a difference that’s made. Lucy and Sam’s mother is Kim. She’s a delight and loaned us a salt and pepper shaker, brought us a big box of candy when she came for tea, and invited us to a Christmas Fair at Sam and Lucy’s school (which we attended on Friday night, thinking about the Fair Work Party and all our friends back home. By the way, no one’s written to tell us how the Fair went, except Katharina who said Andrew worked very hard at beignettes), coming and picking us up and walking with us. She’s married to Kevin, who works very near Don’s office, in Birchwood. He’s very fun and quiet and soft-spoken, like Don. But Kim and I make up for the quiet husbands.
We had Don’s work Christmas Party on Saturday night. Two older women that work with him, one who’s single and the other who’s a widow, came and babysat for us so we could go. We had a very nice time but didn’t get to bed until 1:30, so everyone went into work a little later on Sunday. Don got up early and went to 8:30 church at the
Don researched a home phone yesterday and it would cost $300 American to get it installed. We’ve decided to look into a pay-as-you-go cellphone instead. For now, we can be reached via e-mail. Don downloads our e-mails to the laptop a couple of times a week so I can read everything. We do have a mailing address now, though. It’s
The Doughty’s,
Culcheth
WA3 4JF
Packages and larger items can be sent to
Washington House
c/o Don Doughty
Birchwood Park Avenue
Risley
Warrington
WA3 6GR
Would someone please call my parents and tell them I love them and miss them and that I can’t call because we’re phoneless. It would also help if someone would print this Post and get a copy to them. Details would help ease the separation a little, I’m sure.
I wrapped Christmas presents last night and got all of Deanna’s done. Tonight, I’ll finish Daelyn’s and probably all of Dane’s. Pickin’s are slim for Don this year. I don’t have any ideas for him and almost no way of buying presents, unless I run into something in the Mall. I was hoping to have Internet and be able to order some things for him on-line. Oh, well. The best laid plans …
Give my love to our Support Group and tell them we missed them at their Christmas Party. All our love to the Francis Support Group and our friends back home.
One last note – our washing machine washes, then dries the clothes, although they never REALLY get dry. It takes roughly 4 hours per load. I’m already missing my washer and drier. It’s almost impossible to keep the laundry done when you’re making it as fast as the washer can work.
I thought I’d end this VERY LONG POST – sorry! – with a small dictionary. The first column is what we say, the second is the English word or phrase.
Traffic Circle Round-about
Detour Diversion
Take-out Take-away
Knee-length sweater Long Jumper
Margarine Flora (brand name for the best)
Santa Father Christmas
French fries Chips
Chips Crisps
Bathroom Toilet
Football Soccer
Sprite Lemonade
Alley Footpath
Ham Bacon
Bacon Streaky bacon
As you can see, some of these differences in terms can lead to confusion (like bacon, chips, and lemonade). But all-in-all, we’re getting along just fine and learning lots of new things.
The children are all better and Don seems more energized. They seem to have fallen into a workable routine at work and being able to come home to loved ones, a warm, cozy house, and a home-cooked meal has improved everyone’s health and outlook. Love to all. Write soon. Happy Advent.
Monday, November 27, 2006
We Made It
Hello! My Posts may be very few and far between as the Internet is very expensive over here. Don did some research and we would pay about 4 pounds ($8.00) for ½ hr. of consecutive internet service. But he said if I wanted to write a Post, he’d take it into work and download it for me onto my Blog. It’s a little inefficient, but it works.
First of all, let me say that we’re all getting our exercise. We walk EVERYWHERE, all the time. But the children don’t even complain because it seems like such a European thing to do.
We arrived last Sunday after having some trouble getting through Immigrations. I was afraid the Agent wasn’t going to let us into the country. She detained me for quite a while and asked many questions about the children’s schooling, how long we’d be in the country, etc. We finally got our luggage, found our driver, loaded up, and headed for the hotel. It was about ½ hr. drive from the airport in Manchester to our hotel in Warrington. There was a bit of a mix-up over the room for the children – although the rooms are all non-smoking, someone had been smoking in it, and it smelled like a tobacco factory. With Dane’s asthma, it just wouldn’t work, so they put them one past there, so they’re two doors down from Don, Daelyn and me instead of next door. But it hasn’t really mattered. They’re in our room all the time, anyway. We settled down for a nice nap and woke up when Don came in from work, anxious to get us and head to church.
Monday, the children and I set out to familiarize ourselves with Warrington. We walked all over town, went shopping at the nearest grocery store for milk and bread, paper plates and napkins for our room. We found the bus station and figured out how to use the buses. We rode a double-decker just for the experience – the driver of one that was no longer in service recommended to us that we hide out on the top level and not tell the driver we needed a return, thereby only paying for a one-way ticket but doing the whole circuit. He said that’s what he’d do under the circumstances. Then, when no other double deckers showed up for that route, he motioned to us to get on board and told me he’d take us, although he was supposed to be off work. We had quite the joy ride.
Which brings me to another point. I’ve never met so many nice people in my entire life. The children are spoiled rotten. The maid who cleans our room bought them each several different types of candy so they could try “English treats”. The woman who supervises the dining room downstairs, where we eat breakfast every morning, because it costs 19.99 pounds but is included with our room, bought Advent Calendars for each of the children and brought them into work one morning to give us. They each have their own now (I only do one for the whole family) and Deanna’s runs through New Year’s, with a chocolate for each day, beginning Dec. 1. Our favorite waitress brought them a bag of double chocolate muffins to keep in the room “in case they get ‘ungry, love” and the man that drives the shuttle that goes from our hotel to the bus station is always very kind and has Dane tell him how much we owe him and figure out how much change we need, then makes him count it out to make sure it’s right. It’s like we’re being spoiled by an entire country of people.
We checked out the train station and rode a train out of town on Thursday for a Thanksgiving dinner. One of the Americans that works with Don found a place that was serving a traditional Thanksgiving meal and made reservations for all the remaining Americans in the office, including us. We met there for dinner at 5:30 and had a wonderful adventure. The children and I had to take a train, then a bus to get there.
We also took a bus to Culcheth, a little village outside of Warrington, which is where we’ll be living. Our apartment is undergoing renovations, “refurbishing” to the English. We thought it would be fun to go and have a look as well as figure out the best way to get back and forth from Culcheth to Warrington, which is the City and where we’ll need to come to take trains to just about anywhere. We got off the bus at the library and the librarian copied us a map of the Village (refusing to charge me, although I’m sure it costs for everyone else) and showing us where the park, grocery store and bus stops were near our house. She also asked about the children’s schooling and told me to come and see her once we were moved in and she’d help me find appropriate materials for home-schooling them. We walked to the house and met the painter who encouraged us to look around. The house is lovely, but small – 3 bedrooms upstairs, 2 large and one small, and a bathroom. Downstairs is an entrance hall, a “lounge” (VERY small living room), a nice little kitchen with beautiful new cabinets and a lovely range and double sink, and a dining room with tile floors and double French doors going out into the backyard. I need to look it over better once we get moved in this week, but I suspect we might flip the lounge and dining rooms.
We’re having a wonderful time. We feel like real Warringtonites now. We know the town well and even gave directions to the cab driver who brought us home Thursday night and didn’t know where our hotel was. This past Saturday, we went to Chester which was a Roman walled city and still has the walls going all the way around it. The original walls were built in 70 A.D. and Deanna was intrigued.
We plan on hitting Liverpool next week, but I want to get settled in the house. It’s very difficult to do school in the hotel room, all crammed into a tiny little space.
Next on our Agenda is York (Kelly, if you read this, you never gave me the name of that place where we should have tea – send us an e-mail. Don downloads them from work and brings them home on the laptop.) We’ve done just about everything possible in Warrington. On Sunday, we went shopping after church (St. Elfins has the 3rd largest steeple of any Parish church in England) and then went into Town Centre for the lighting of the Christmas Lights and a town festival. In Chester on Saturday, they were having a German Market in the center of town. Deanna and I had bratwurst and I had gluewine for lunch.
We feel like regular Britishers. We’ve had fish and chips in a Pub and Daelyn even sampled black pudding (blood pudding, for those of you that don’t know). The rest of us knew better, but Daelyn couldn’t believe it really was cooked blood, so he kept trying it. I hope to be able to write again soon, but that’s enough for this Post. Pray for the children – everyone has terrible colds. Dane’s asthma kicked up, but we’ve gotten his coughing under control now. However, Deanna’s has deepened and sounds terrible. I’m afraid we might have to see a doctor soon, which would be terrible. The Chemist (we’d call them Pharmacist) gave me something for “chesty colds” but it hasn’t helped Deanna. And it rains daily and nothing ever really seems to dry out. We’ve gotten fairly accustomed to the rain – you just assume it’s going to rain and set out prepared for it. But I washed my flannel pajamas several nights ago and they haven’t dried out yet. I tried the blowdryer, the heated towel bar, and the pants press, all to no avail. And I desperately need to do wash. I’ve been able to wash underwear and socks in the room, but pants have gotten pretty muddy and we’re all running out of clean clothes. On the Agenda for tomorrow is finding a Laundromat.
Pray for Don’s stamina and the children’s health. Other than that, we’re doing GREAT and loving England – every little thing about it. I still can’t believe we’re here, but I have just to look around at all the Tudor-style buildings and hear the passers-by on the street to recall. God is good and this is such a tremendous blessing to us. I still am in awe of his goodness to us.
I’ll write again soon when I get a chance. Ta-ta for now, luv.
First of all, let me say that we’re all getting our exercise. We walk EVERYWHERE, all the time. But the children don’t even complain because it seems like such a European thing to do.
We arrived last Sunday after having some trouble getting through Immigrations. I was afraid the Agent wasn’t going to let us into the country. She detained me for quite a while and asked many questions about the children’s schooling, how long we’d be in the country, etc. We finally got our luggage, found our driver, loaded up, and headed for the hotel. It was about ½ hr. drive from the airport in Manchester to our hotel in Warrington. There was a bit of a mix-up over the room for the children – although the rooms are all non-smoking, someone had been smoking in it, and it smelled like a tobacco factory. With Dane’s asthma, it just wouldn’t work, so they put them one past there, so they’re two doors down from Don, Daelyn and me instead of next door. But it hasn’t really mattered. They’re in our room all the time, anyway. We settled down for a nice nap and woke up when Don came in from work, anxious to get us and head to church.
Monday, the children and I set out to familiarize ourselves with Warrington. We walked all over town, went shopping at the nearest grocery store for milk and bread, paper plates and napkins for our room. We found the bus station and figured out how to use the buses. We rode a double-decker just for the experience – the driver of one that was no longer in service recommended to us that we hide out on the top level and not tell the driver we needed a return, thereby only paying for a one-way ticket but doing the whole circuit. He said that’s what he’d do under the circumstances. Then, when no other double deckers showed up for that route, he motioned to us to get on board and told me he’d take us, although he was supposed to be off work. We had quite the joy ride.
Which brings me to another point. I’ve never met so many nice people in my entire life. The children are spoiled rotten. The maid who cleans our room bought them each several different types of candy so they could try “English treats”. The woman who supervises the dining room downstairs, where we eat breakfast every morning, because it costs 19.99 pounds but is included with our room, bought Advent Calendars for each of the children and brought them into work one morning to give us. They each have their own now (I only do one for the whole family) and Deanna’s runs through New Year’s, with a chocolate for each day, beginning Dec. 1. Our favorite waitress brought them a bag of double chocolate muffins to keep in the room “in case they get ‘ungry, love” and the man that drives the shuttle that goes from our hotel to the bus station is always very kind and has Dane tell him how much we owe him and figure out how much change we need, then makes him count it out to make sure it’s right. It’s like we’re being spoiled by an entire country of people.
We checked out the train station and rode a train out of town on Thursday for a Thanksgiving dinner. One of the Americans that works with Don found a place that was serving a traditional Thanksgiving meal and made reservations for all the remaining Americans in the office, including us. We met there for dinner at 5:30 and had a wonderful adventure. The children and I had to take a train, then a bus to get there.
We also took a bus to Culcheth, a little village outside of Warrington, which is where we’ll be living. Our apartment is undergoing renovations, “refurbishing” to the English. We thought it would be fun to go and have a look as well as figure out the best way to get back and forth from Culcheth to Warrington, which is the City and where we’ll need to come to take trains to just about anywhere. We got off the bus at the library and the librarian copied us a map of the Village (refusing to charge me, although I’m sure it costs for everyone else) and showing us where the park, grocery store and bus stops were near our house. She also asked about the children’s schooling and told me to come and see her once we were moved in and she’d help me find appropriate materials for home-schooling them. We walked to the house and met the painter who encouraged us to look around. The house is lovely, but small – 3 bedrooms upstairs, 2 large and one small, and a bathroom. Downstairs is an entrance hall, a “lounge” (VERY small living room), a nice little kitchen with beautiful new cabinets and a lovely range and double sink, and a dining room with tile floors and double French doors going out into the backyard. I need to look it over better once we get moved in this week, but I suspect we might flip the lounge and dining rooms.
We’re having a wonderful time. We feel like real Warringtonites now. We know the town well and even gave directions to the cab driver who brought us home Thursday night and didn’t know where our hotel was. This past Saturday, we went to Chester which was a Roman walled city and still has the walls going all the way around it. The original walls were built in 70 A.D. and Deanna was intrigued.
We plan on hitting Liverpool next week, but I want to get settled in the house. It’s very difficult to do school in the hotel room, all crammed into a tiny little space.
Next on our Agenda is York (Kelly, if you read this, you never gave me the name of that place where we should have tea – send us an e-mail. Don downloads them from work and brings them home on the laptop.) We’ve done just about everything possible in Warrington. On Sunday, we went shopping after church (St. Elfins has the 3rd largest steeple of any Parish church in England) and then went into Town Centre for the lighting of the Christmas Lights and a town festival. In Chester on Saturday, they were having a German Market in the center of town. Deanna and I had bratwurst and I had gluewine for lunch.
We feel like regular Britishers. We’ve had fish and chips in a Pub and Daelyn even sampled black pudding (blood pudding, for those of you that don’t know). The rest of us knew better, but Daelyn couldn’t believe it really was cooked blood, so he kept trying it. I hope to be able to write again soon, but that’s enough for this Post. Pray for the children – everyone has terrible colds. Dane’s asthma kicked up, but we’ve gotten his coughing under control now. However, Deanna’s has deepened and sounds terrible. I’m afraid we might have to see a doctor soon, which would be terrible. The Chemist (we’d call them Pharmacist) gave me something for “chesty colds” but it hasn’t helped Deanna. And it rains daily and nothing ever really seems to dry out. We’ve gotten fairly accustomed to the rain – you just assume it’s going to rain and set out prepared for it. But I washed my flannel pajamas several nights ago and they haven’t dried out yet. I tried the blowdryer, the heated towel bar, and the pants press, all to no avail. And I desperately need to do wash. I’ve been able to wash underwear and socks in the room, but pants have gotten pretty muddy and we’re all running out of clean clothes. On the Agenda for tomorrow is finding a Laundromat.
Pray for Don’s stamina and the children’s health. Other than that, we’re doing GREAT and loving England – every little thing about it. I still can’t believe we’re here, but I have just to look around at all the Tudor-style buildings and hear the passers-by on the street to recall. God is good and this is such a tremendous blessing to us. I still am in awe of his goodness to us.
I’ll write again soon when I get a chance. Ta-ta for now, luv.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Farewell
I found my password, so I might get a chance to post while we're gone.
I'm already planning to take the Beatle's Magical Mystery Tour which takes you to Eleanor Rigby's grave and Strawberry Fields, as well as many other places mentioned in their songs.
I looked over the map until 1:00 a.m. Thursday night. I have this great map from AAA that shows driving times and distances between major cities as well as all the castles and tourist attractions in red along with a guide to get you there. We'll be living only 15 minutes from Liverpool. Ain't that cool?!
I also found Scarborough, so we can go to Scarborough Faire (parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme). Then, of course, there's Stratfort-upon-Avon, where Anne Hathaway's (Shakespeare's wife) cottage is still standing. The Globe Theater has been reproduced and the Royal Shakespearean Troup performs there.
Anyway, I'm sure we're going to have the time of our lives - once we get there.
And speaking of getting there . . .
I'm already planning to take the Beatle's Magical Mystery Tour which takes you to Eleanor Rigby's grave and Strawberry Fields, as well as many other places mentioned in their songs.
I looked over the map until 1:00 a.m. Thursday night. I have this great map from AAA that shows driving times and distances between major cities as well as all the castles and tourist attractions in red along with a guide to get you there. We'll be living only 15 minutes from Liverpool. Ain't that cool?!
I also found Scarborough, so we can go to Scarborough Faire (parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme). Then, of course, there's Stratfort-upon-Avon, where Anne Hathaway's (Shakespeare's wife) cottage is still standing. The Globe Theater has been reproduced and the Royal Shakespearean Troup performs there.
Anyway, I'm sure we're going to have the time of our lives - once we get there.
And speaking of getting there . . .
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Flying Away!!
It's a done deal. The plane tickets were purchased today. We should receive our e-mail confirmation tomorrow morning and our flight leaves on Saturday. Family will be in and out of our house, with some out-of-town members staying here from time to time. I have a tremendous amount of cleaning to get done, and a little more packing, but I'll be ready to go when the time comes.
Don is really struggling with the cultural differences. He's never traveled abroad and the only time he's been out of the country was when I took him to visit my family in Canada a few years ago.
His complaints run the gammet from the paper being too small, the plates being too small, and the cars being too small to they only put one sheet on his bed, there are no washcloths provided in the hotel, and it's impossible to find a blanket. He says the food is expensive and "Believe me, honey, you will definately lose weight over here. The portions are barely enough to survive on."
Laundry service at the hotel costs $3.00 PER sock (the other items are outrageous, as well - they didn't stop with the sock price). Don's boss e-mailed him and said he was really concerned about Don not having clean underwear ;) and that his college age son says it's not necessary to wash underwear, just invest in a bottle of Febreeze. I can already tell there'll be quite a pile of wash waiting for me when I arrive on Sunday.
I'm sure we're going to have lots of adjustments. But I'm quite impressed with my husband who's already reading a bus schedule like a pro. I plan on getting to know the employee at the train ticket window real fast. I expect I'll be seeing him/her quite often.
They signed the Lease on our apartment today. It's a 2-story, 3 bedroom with a garden shed in the back. It's in a cul-de-sac and I'm hoping we can rent bicycles for myself and the children. The one downer is that there's no fireplace. Don said they have a wooden frame on the wall in the "lounge" (their word for living room) and he thinks they're going to put a picture or mural of a fireplace under the fake mantle. My questions is, do I have to clean out the fireplace after each use?
The apartment is being renovated and won't be finished until 11/27, so we'll be staying in a hotel for the first week. But I couldn't care less. We'll be together - in England. It's hard to imagine much more glorious.
We're praying for a white Christmas. But before than, we need to get through the trip.
I doubt I'll have time to write tomorrow. If I can remember my password, I'll try and post occasionally from across the pond. If not, check for me in February.
Don is really struggling with the cultural differences. He's never traveled abroad and the only time he's been out of the country was when I took him to visit my family in Canada a few years ago.
His complaints run the gammet from the paper being too small, the plates being too small, and the cars being too small to they only put one sheet on his bed, there are no washcloths provided in the hotel, and it's impossible to find a blanket. He says the food is expensive and "Believe me, honey, you will definately lose weight over here. The portions are barely enough to survive on."
Laundry service at the hotel costs $3.00 PER sock (the other items are outrageous, as well - they didn't stop with the sock price). Don's boss e-mailed him and said he was really concerned about Don not having clean underwear ;) and that his college age son says it's not necessary to wash underwear, just invest in a bottle of Febreeze. I can already tell there'll be quite a pile of wash waiting for me when I arrive on Sunday.
I'm sure we're going to have lots of adjustments. But I'm quite impressed with my husband who's already reading a bus schedule like a pro. I plan on getting to know the employee at the train ticket window real fast. I expect I'll be seeing him/her quite often.
They signed the Lease on our apartment today. It's a 2-story, 3 bedroom with a garden shed in the back. It's in a cul-de-sac and I'm hoping we can rent bicycles for myself and the children. The one downer is that there's no fireplace. Don said they have a wooden frame on the wall in the "lounge" (their word for living room) and he thinks they're going to put a picture or mural of a fireplace under the fake mantle. My questions is, do I have to clean out the fireplace after each use?
The apartment is being renovated and won't be finished until 11/27, so we'll be staying in a hotel for the first week. But I couldn't care less. We'll be together - in England. It's hard to imagine much more glorious.
We're praying for a white Christmas. But before than, we need to get through the trip.
I doubt I'll have time to write tomorrow. If I can remember my password, I'll try and post occasionally from across the pond. If not, check for me in February.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Trust for Today
My sister called me late last night. We have both been so busy, we haven't had much of an opportunity to talk. The children were in bed and I was sitting at the kitchen table signing traveler's checks.
After we talked for a few minutes, she asked about Donovan.
Sis: "Do you have anybody to take care of the dog yet?"
Me: "Nope. Not yet."
Sis: "Doesn't that stress you out a little? It's getting a little late, isn't it?"
Me: "You know, I don't understand WHY I'm so peaceful, but I am. Somehow, I just know in the depths of my spirit that the Lord is going to take care of this situation for us and I don't even have to do anything about it. He's just going to lay it in my lap."
Sis: "That IS strange, alright. I hope it all works out for you."
The truth is, I have been strangely peaceful - at least about this issue. When we first found out we were going, I made about 30 calls, all to no avail. Finally, I just laid it at the feet of the Lord and a peace came over me. I can't even explain it, but it's as if, in the middle of the fever pitch of our lives right now, God carved out this little area of peace and tranquility for me. I didn't have to worry about Donovan, our little love. The Lord would take care of him.
Last night, I got a phone call, out of the blue, from people I've known for many years but am not particularly close to in this season in my life. They asked if I had anyone to keep Donovan yet. I responded in the negative and the woman said they were interested. She explained that they have a very old female dog who uses a doggy door to get out into their fenced-in yard. She's welcome in the house. The wife and husband both work, but the grandchildren, who are about the same ages as my children, frequently visit and the wife's elderly father lives with them and is nearly always home. We agreed that I would bring Donovan over this afternoon for a trial run.
I was a little concerned. Donovan has never successfully navigated a doggy door. My in-laws have one and he can get back into the house from outside but won't use it to go out. Don discussed this with me before he left and said that he felt sure Donovan was old enough now to "get" the doggy door thing. But I was concerned, all the same.
Within five minutes of our arrival, Donovan was running in and out of the doggy door like an old pro. He had checked the entire house out and the wife's father seemed pleased with the companionship. Their dog is sweet and got along fine with Donovan, although he wore her plumb out and she nipped at him a little to get him to leave her alone. (She's going to have to do way more than that to slow him down.)
We came home, fully convinced that this WAS the perfect situation for Donovan. And, as Deanna pointed out, the Lord dropped it directly in our laps. We had to do nothing. It was truly miraculous.
The wife commented that Donovan is still a puppy and asked how old he was. I explained that his birthday is on Christmas and she announced that they'd have a party for him. I think he's going to be spoiled rotten by the time we get home, and I really can't imagine anything better for him, other than us never leaving.
God is good. He loves us enough to lay the answer in our laps when we trust Him. He took this burden completely off my shoulders and I can rest securely tonight knowing that my baby has a wonderful place to stay for his 3-month vacation.
Now if we can just get our plane tickets!!
After we talked for a few minutes, she asked about Donovan.
Sis: "Do you have anybody to take care of the dog yet?"
Me: "Nope. Not yet."
Sis: "Doesn't that stress you out a little? It's getting a little late, isn't it?"
Me: "You know, I don't understand WHY I'm so peaceful, but I am. Somehow, I just know in the depths of my spirit that the Lord is going to take care of this situation for us and I don't even have to do anything about it. He's just going to lay it in my lap."
Sis: "That IS strange, alright. I hope it all works out for you."
The truth is, I have been strangely peaceful - at least about this issue. When we first found out we were going, I made about 30 calls, all to no avail. Finally, I just laid it at the feet of the Lord and a peace came over me. I can't even explain it, but it's as if, in the middle of the fever pitch of our lives right now, God carved out this little area of peace and tranquility for me. I didn't have to worry about Donovan, our little love. The Lord would take care of him.
Last night, I got a phone call, out of the blue, from people I've known for many years but am not particularly close to in this season in my life. They asked if I had anyone to keep Donovan yet. I responded in the negative and the woman said they were interested. She explained that they have a very old female dog who uses a doggy door to get out into their fenced-in yard. She's welcome in the house. The wife and husband both work, but the grandchildren, who are about the same ages as my children, frequently visit and the wife's elderly father lives with them and is nearly always home. We agreed that I would bring Donovan over this afternoon for a trial run.
I was a little concerned. Donovan has never successfully navigated a doggy door. My in-laws have one and he can get back into the house from outside but won't use it to go out. Don discussed this with me before he left and said that he felt sure Donovan was old enough now to "get" the doggy door thing. But I was concerned, all the same.
Within five minutes of our arrival, Donovan was running in and out of the doggy door like an old pro. He had checked the entire house out and the wife's father seemed pleased with the companionship. Their dog is sweet and got along fine with Donovan, although he wore her plumb out and she nipped at him a little to get him to leave her alone. (She's going to have to do way more than that to slow him down.)
We came home, fully convinced that this WAS the perfect situation for Donovan. And, as Deanna pointed out, the Lord dropped it directly in our laps. We had to do nothing. It was truly miraculous.
The wife commented that Donovan is still a puppy and asked how old he was. I explained that his birthday is on Christmas and she announced that they'd have a party for him. I think he's going to be spoiled rotten by the time we get home, and I really can't imagine anything better for him, other than us never leaving.
God is good. He loves us enough to lay the answer in our laps when we trust Him. He took this burden completely off my shoulders and I can rest securely tonight knowing that my baby has a wonderful place to stay for his 3-month vacation.
Now if we can just get our plane tickets!!
Friday, November 10, 2006
Peace, despite ...
By last night, I was at the heighth of frustration with the whole "moving to England" situation. We know nothing! Don's over there, I'm separated from my husband, my children and even the dog miss their daddy, and we have NO IDEA when we'll be leaving. I talked to Don on the phone for an hour last night. He explained that he should have his work permit by early next week.
Don: "When I have it in my hand, I'll go talk to the H.R. Woman and ask her about getting an address. You have to have an address to enter the country. Then, once they've got a place for us to live, we'll see about tickets to get you over here. But I don't know how much lead-time they need for tickets. I know the longer they have, the cheaper they are. So it might still be a couple of weeks."
Me, screaming at the top of my lungs: "WEEKS!!! Did you say WEEKS?"
Don: "Well, honey, first things first."
Me: "What do you mean?!? Can't they be doing some of these things simultaneously. Can't they go ahead and get our plane reservations and look for an apartment while they're waiting on the Work Permit?"
Don: "They'll get to it in due time."
Me: "How about, you give me their number and I'll call and talk to them!"
Don: "I don't think so, honey. Just be patient."
Patience. HA! Easy for him to say. He's working 12 - 14 hours a day. He has no time for anything but WORK. I'm the one left behind with 3 children, chomping at the bit to see England and be re-united with Daddy.
I breathed a prayer asking the Lord to give me peace. I admitted that I want to be in the center of His will.
This morning, my devotion during my prayertime was Psalm 37:7, "Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him."
Alright, Lord, could you be any clearer? I'll try...really hard. But could all you out there say a prayer for me, as well, to be content to wait on the Lord and to desire to be in the center of his timetable, not my own.
Sigh. So much to learn.
Don: "When I have it in my hand, I'll go talk to the H.R. Woman and ask her about getting an address. You have to have an address to enter the country. Then, once they've got a place for us to live, we'll see about tickets to get you over here. But I don't know how much lead-time they need for tickets. I know the longer they have, the cheaper they are. So it might still be a couple of weeks."
Me, screaming at the top of my lungs: "WEEKS!!! Did you say WEEKS?"
Don: "Well, honey, first things first."
Me: "What do you mean?!? Can't they be doing some of these things simultaneously. Can't they go ahead and get our plane reservations and look for an apartment while they're waiting on the Work Permit?"
Don: "They'll get to it in due time."
Me: "How about, you give me their number and I'll call and talk to them!"
Don: "I don't think so, honey. Just be patient."
Patience. HA! Easy for him to say. He's working 12 - 14 hours a day. He has no time for anything but WORK. I'm the one left behind with 3 children, chomping at the bit to see England and be re-united with Daddy.
I breathed a prayer asking the Lord to give me peace. I admitted that I want to be in the center of His will.
This morning, my devotion during my prayertime was Psalm 37:7, "Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for him."
Alright, Lord, could you be any clearer? I'll try...really hard. But could all you out there say a prayer for me, as well, to be content to wait on the Lord and to desire to be in the center of his timetable, not my own.
Sigh. So much to learn.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
The Scent of Love
Dane is lying on the floor with Donovan standing on top of him, licking his face. Daelyn's shrieking with laughter. He yells, "He just can't get enough of you, Daney."
It's the sad, sad truth. Dane must have some chemical or odor on his skin that Donovan is attracted to, because if he gets anywhere near Dane, he begins to lick him. He licks in his ears, up his nose ... you get the picture.
Donovan, while only 16 inches tall, has very long legs. He's a hunting dog, breeded for digging fox out of their holes, so his paws are HUGE. He has this lo-o-o-o-ong appendage at the end of his legs - the joint that separates his paw from his leg is about 8 inches from the end of the paw. (Perhaps a SLIGHT exageration.)
Several weeks ago, Dane was kneeling on the floor in the den playing. I walked in from the kitchen and noticed Donovan had stood up on his hind legs, put his front paws on Dane's shoulders and was licking his face, head-on. Dane sat quietly while his puppy thoroughly cleaned him. When Dane had had enough, he gently began leaning backwards, trying to break the contact without upsetting Donovan (Daney really is a sweet child). When Donovan realized Dane was trying to pull away, he just slid his legs upward, turned them inward, and wrapped his long paws around Dane's neck, holding it in place. He continued to lick while Dane laughed.
UCK! It's not very smart to open your mouth, even in laughter, while Donovan's licking your face.
The funny thing is, he doesn't do this with anybody else. Deanna tries desperately to get her puppy to love on her. Night before last, I found him on her bed as she was straightening her room, all curled up in a ball. Deanna had a huge smile on her face and was puttering around her room, singing. But the reason for the smile and song was this is unusual. Donovan typically ignores Daelyn and Deanna. He follows me around the house but, when I want lovin' from him, he's never willing to "pony-up".
Who would've thought a dog was fickle. But you'd never know by watching him with Dane.
Gotta get me some of that Dane scent.
It's the sad, sad truth. Dane must have some chemical or odor on his skin that Donovan is attracted to, because if he gets anywhere near Dane, he begins to lick him. He licks in his ears, up his nose ... you get the picture.
Donovan, while only 16 inches tall, has very long legs. He's a hunting dog, breeded for digging fox out of their holes, so his paws are HUGE. He has this lo-o-o-o-ong appendage at the end of his legs - the joint that separates his paw from his leg is about 8 inches from the end of the paw. (Perhaps a SLIGHT exageration.)
Several weeks ago, Dane was kneeling on the floor in the den playing. I walked in from the kitchen and noticed Donovan had stood up on his hind legs, put his front paws on Dane's shoulders and was licking his face, head-on. Dane sat quietly while his puppy thoroughly cleaned him. When Dane had had enough, he gently began leaning backwards, trying to break the contact without upsetting Donovan (Daney really is a sweet child). When Donovan realized Dane was trying to pull away, he just slid his legs upward, turned them inward, and wrapped his long paws around Dane's neck, holding it in place. He continued to lick while Dane laughed.
UCK! It's not very smart to open your mouth, even in laughter, while Donovan's licking your face.
The funny thing is, he doesn't do this with anybody else. Deanna tries desperately to get her puppy to love on her. Night before last, I found him on her bed as she was straightening her room, all curled up in a ball. Deanna had a huge smile on her face and was puttering around her room, singing. But the reason for the smile and song was this is unusual. Donovan typically ignores Daelyn and Deanna. He follows me around the house but, when I want lovin' from him, he's never willing to "pony-up".
Who would've thought a dog was fickle. But you'd never know by watching him with Dane.
Gotta get me some of that Dane scent.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
And the Hits Just Keep on Coming ...
We put Don on the plane yesterday afternoon. It was very emotional. He was so sweet. He talked individually with each of the children. He told Deanna to not lock herself in her bedroom listening to her music and to help me. He told Dane that I needed lots of help and that he should do everything he could to assist me with packing and the dog. I didn't hear his conversation with Daelyn.
After picking up some take-out for dinner, we headed back to the airport to watch his plane fly overhead and WERE HIT by a pick-up truck. The van is totalled but we're all alright - bruised and scratched up, but fine. It truly was a miracle. We were traveling at about 55, going through a green light, when an elderly man turned right into us. The entire front end of the van is crushed in, but it did it's job and our guardian angels did theirs.
So, in addition to buying and wrapping Christmas presents, sorting through all our decorations in the attic and finding a few to take with us, meeting with the children's teachers to get their school work, making all our other arrangements and packing, I now have to deal with insurance companies and a body shop.
Big sigh. Oh, well, I'll have three months free from worry to rest up. Jolly old England, here we come.
After picking up some take-out for dinner, we headed back to the airport to watch his plane fly overhead and WERE HIT by a pick-up truck. The van is totalled but we're all alright - bruised and scratched up, but fine. It truly was a miracle. We were traveling at about 55, going through a green light, when an elderly man turned right into us. The entire front end of the van is crushed in, but it did it's job and our guardian angels did theirs.
So, in addition to buying and wrapping Christmas presents, sorting through all our decorations in the attic and finding a few to take with us, meeting with the children's teachers to get their school work, making all our other arrangements and packing, I now have to deal with insurance companies and a body shop.
Big sigh. Oh, well, I'll have three months free from worry to rest up. Jolly old England, here we come.
Friday, November 03, 2006
The Trip
Well, we're going!!! Don leaves Monday afternoon (after all) and we have to wait for him to get a work permit and the children's passports to arrive, then we're off, as well.
We have lots of plans to make in just a few short days. Don and I have got to discuss Christmas (what we'll take, what we'll leave behind), where we want to travel while there so we can get rail passes (which you can only purchase in the U.S. before the trip), how we'll do our banking and make purchases while there (everybody charges a surcharge to exchange money - the trick is to find who charges the LEAST), and lots of other family business before he leaves us for 2 weeks and I prepare to follow.
Not to mention getting him packed and buying any clothes/shoes/misc. he might need for the trip. The good thing is, we'll be at home still for 1 1/2 weeks after he's already there, so if he discovers he needs things, he can always call and we can bring them with us.
I want to take some food items, like his Krystal Lite and fruit roll-ups for the kids. I expect these kinds of "American" items might be hard to find and very expensive if we do. I've started a list of what I need to take.
I've got to call the airlines and find out about any restrictions, including weight, on our luggage. Then I've got to gather enough pieces to transport all our stuff.
Pray for us. There are still LOTS of arrangements to make and even more possible glitches. But we'll be spending Thanksgiving and Christmas in the home of Kings and Queens, Bards and Playwrights - God willing.
We have lots of plans to make in just a few short days. Don and I have got to discuss Christmas (what we'll take, what we'll leave behind), where we want to travel while there so we can get rail passes (which you can only purchase in the U.S. before the trip), how we'll do our banking and make purchases while there (everybody charges a surcharge to exchange money - the trick is to find who charges the LEAST), and lots of other family business before he leaves us for 2 weeks and I prepare to follow.
Not to mention getting him packed and buying any clothes/shoes/misc. he might need for the trip. The good thing is, we'll be at home still for 1 1/2 weeks after he's already there, so if he discovers he needs things, he can always call and we can bring them with us.
I want to take some food items, like his Krystal Lite and fruit roll-ups for the kids. I expect these kinds of "American" items might be hard to find and very expensive if we do. I've started a list of what I need to take.
I've got to call the airlines and find out about any restrictions, including weight, on our luggage. Then I've got to gather enough pieces to transport all our stuff.
Pray for us. There are still LOTS of arrangements to make and even more possible glitches. But we'll be spending Thanksgiving and Christmas in the home of Kings and Queens, Bards and Playwrights - God willing.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Travel Crisis
Life has been exciting at the Doughty house this week. I saw the doctor on Monday, while Deanna was seeing the President, and he told me I needed to rest if I'm ever going to get over this viral junk I have.
Deanna got home with her news about shaking the President's hand and, within two hours, Don called from work to say that he'd been offered a temporary assignment in England for 3 months. We decided to try and work out the details to go.
We've got more details than you have time, so suffice it to say that we still know nothing. It's been a whirlwind last 3 days and we're all beginning to suffer the effects of lack of sleep, excitement, and uncertainty.
Last night, Don held in his hand his Itinerary for his trip, leaving this coming Monday evening and arriving Tuesday morning. We were to follow the following Monday (Nov. 13). However, we found out that the man arranging the trip was using the Corporate Policy, not the Site Policy where Don works, which is a DOE Facility. Everything has had to be scrapped, the appropriate procedures for "government work" followed, and now everything must be signed before we can begin this process all over again. We have no idea how long this is going to take or, even, if it's going to happen. In the meantime, I try and do everything to prepare that I can without actually accomplishing anything. It's all very frustrating.
I mentioned we're all showing signs of wear. In addition to not getting any sleep, I needed additional sleep this week to recover from my virus. I've been grumpy and irritable. The children are much worse than me.
I spent the day Tuesday cooking and serving lunch to a crowd of 30. After school, I worked to get the children ready for an All Saint's Eve Celebration they were going to attend. Thank goodness for Grandma. She came down and helped. Then she and Grandpa took the children to the festival so I could sleep. I woke up from my nap without the headache that had been nauseating me and nagging me for 2 days.
Yesterday, I picked them up from school and we headed out to get Passport photos, then went shopping for boots. Daelyn and I had spent several hours in the morning shopping for appropriate heavy winter clothes. I've been advised to dress the children in layers, so we looked for turtlenecks and sweaters as well as lined pants. Even if we never make it to England, most of these clothes are things they can wear this winter, anyway.
Today we all needed a break. I subbed in Deanna's class from 10:30 to 2:00. Then Grandma came over to stay with Daelyn while he napped so I could pick the other two up from school without having to wake the little guy. We're working on homework (trying to get caught up) and I'm doing laundry.
We all need a little break. Hopefully, this weekend will afford us a little more.
Deanna got home with her news about shaking the President's hand and, within two hours, Don called from work to say that he'd been offered a temporary assignment in England for 3 months. We decided to try and work out the details to go.
We've got more details than you have time, so suffice it to say that we still know nothing. It's been a whirlwind last 3 days and we're all beginning to suffer the effects of lack of sleep, excitement, and uncertainty.
Last night, Don held in his hand his Itinerary for his trip, leaving this coming Monday evening and arriving Tuesday morning. We were to follow the following Monday (Nov. 13). However, we found out that the man arranging the trip was using the Corporate Policy, not the Site Policy where Don works, which is a DOE Facility. Everything has had to be scrapped, the appropriate procedures for "government work" followed, and now everything must be signed before we can begin this process all over again. We have no idea how long this is going to take or, even, if it's going to happen. In the meantime, I try and do everything to prepare that I can without actually accomplishing anything. It's all very frustrating.
I mentioned we're all showing signs of wear. In addition to not getting any sleep, I needed additional sleep this week to recover from my virus. I've been grumpy and irritable. The children are much worse than me.
I spent the day Tuesday cooking and serving lunch to a crowd of 30. After school, I worked to get the children ready for an All Saint's Eve Celebration they were going to attend. Thank goodness for Grandma. She came down and helped. Then she and Grandpa took the children to the festival so I could sleep. I woke up from my nap without the headache that had been nauseating me and nagging me for 2 days.
Yesterday, I picked them up from school and we headed out to get Passport photos, then went shopping for boots. Daelyn and I had spent several hours in the morning shopping for appropriate heavy winter clothes. I've been advised to dress the children in layers, so we looked for turtlenecks and sweaters as well as lined pants. Even if we never make it to England, most of these clothes are things they can wear this winter, anyway.
Today we all needed a break. I subbed in Deanna's class from 10:30 to 2:00. Then Grandma came over to stay with Daelyn while he napped so I could pick the other two up from school without having to wake the little guy. We're working on homework (trying to get caught up) and I'm doing laundry.
We all need a little break. Hopefully, this weekend will afford us a little more.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Miracles
Deanna got to shake the hand of President George W. Bush. It was quite miraculous, really. There were more than 7,000 people crammed into an Auditorium. Deanna and my parents were near the back until Deanna spotted several seats in the front row of the 3rd balcony. After checking out the information with a Secret Service agent, Mom and Dad made their way there.
From that vantage point, they could see the railing where the President would be walking. When he arrived, he came in at the far left and seemed to be making his way towards the right. My father asked a Secret Service agent if they could squeeze Deanna in at the railing and was encouraged to try. At the very end of the railing, just in front of the door, Deanna and Grandma found a spot. Daddy stood behind them. The President began coming their direction. Deanna leaned as far over the railing as she could to reach him. He walked over to her, shook her hand, and said, "Be careful, there. You might fall." Then he walked out the side door and was gone. Hers was the last hand he shook, and he spoke to her.
She was thrilled. Out of that over 7,000 person crowd, he shook less than 50 hands, one of which was Deanna's. Her teacher had her walk to every desk in the classroom today and shake hands with EVERY student with the same hand the President shook. Deanna thought it was quite funny.
Another miracle - they had to be cleared by the Secret Service in advance, so my father had submitted their names as well as Deanna's and her social security number. Once their background investigation was complete, the Republican Party Office contacted us to tell us they had Deanna's tickets. Daddy picked them up on Saturday, but forgot to take them with him yesterday. There was NO WAY to verify that he had been approved by the Secret Service without his tickets. It looked very doubtful they would even be able to get through the doors, but my father went to a Kiosk they had set up and asked to speak to the Aide to a Congressional Candidate who is a friend of his. The people at the Kiosk asked him what the problem was and he explained that he had forgotten his tickets, but he thought the problem could be cleared up if they'd let him speak to the Aide. Of course, Daddy used the names of the Campaign Manager as well as the Aide.
The people in the Kiosk asked him who he was. He told them his name.
"Oh! So you're Rev. Hunt," they replied. "Just how many tickets did you say you needed, Rev. Hunt?" They handed him the three he requested, as if nothing had happened.
AMAZING. Anyone else would have not been able to get in. It sure helps to have friends in politics.
It was all worthwhile, even the 5:15 a.m. alarm. Deanna got to shake the hand of the President. She'll never forget yesterday.
From that vantage point, they could see the railing where the President would be walking. When he arrived, he came in at the far left and seemed to be making his way towards the right. My father asked a Secret Service agent if they could squeeze Deanna in at the railing and was encouraged to try. At the very end of the railing, just in front of the door, Deanna and Grandma found a spot. Daddy stood behind them. The President began coming their direction. Deanna leaned as far over the railing as she could to reach him. He walked over to her, shook her hand, and said, "Be careful, there. You might fall." Then he walked out the side door and was gone. Hers was the last hand he shook, and he spoke to her.
She was thrilled. Out of that over 7,000 person crowd, he shook less than 50 hands, one of which was Deanna's. Her teacher had her walk to every desk in the classroom today and shake hands with EVERY student with the same hand the President shook. Deanna thought it was quite funny.
Another miracle - they had to be cleared by the Secret Service in advance, so my father had submitted their names as well as Deanna's and her social security number. Once their background investigation was complete, the Republican Party Office contacted us to tell us they had Deanna's tickets. Daddy picked them up on Saturday, but forgot to take them with him yesterday. There was NO WAY to verify that he had been approved by the Secret Service without his tickets. It looked very doubtful they would even be able to get through the doors, but my father went to a Kiosk they had set up and asked to speak to the Aide to a Congressional Candidate who is a friend of his. The people at the Kiosk asked him what the problem was and he explained that he had forgotten his tickets, but he thought the problem could be cleared up if they'd let him speak to the Aide. Of course, Daddy used the names of the Campaign Manager as well as the Aide.
The people in the Kiosk asked him who he was. He told them his name.
"Oh! So you're Rev. Hunt," they replied. "Just how many tickets did you say you needed, Rev. Hunt?" They handed him the three he requested, as if nothing had happened.
AMAZING. Anyone else would have not been able to get in. It sure helps to have friends in politics.
It was all worthwhile, even the 5:15 a.m. alarm. Deanna got to shake the hand of the President. She'll never forget yesterday.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Deanna's Presidential Visit
Deanna's standing in line right now to see President Bush. Her Grandparents were going to see him again and invited her to go with them. She had to be cleared by the Secret Service and we ran out yesterday afternoon and bought her a darling outfit to wear. I had to get her up at 5:30 this morning for the trip, which is only 1 1/2 hours, but they wanted to be there plenty early to get a good place in line.
Deanna called a few minutes ago to tell me they hadn't gotten through the doors yet. But she said that there were more people behind them than in front of them.
She's really excited. When President Bush ran for election the first time, she got up out of bed and came into the living room where I was watching the returns. She sat up with me for several hours, trying to understand the political process (at all of 4 years old) and sharing in my excitement. When it became obvious that we weren't going to have a final decision that night, we both went to bed. The next morning, we turned on the news to see what had happened and heard about the contested race and all the ballot problems. After listening, we committed to each other to pray every day that George W. Bush would be our next president. Right then and there, we knelt on the floor in the living room and asked for God's intervention in this important election.
We kept our commitment and prayed together every day until Bush finally was confirmed. We watched the Inauguration together and cried, thanking the Lord for the godly man He had put in the White House.
She's never forgotten that. So when Grandma and Grandpa invited her to go with them, she was thrilled. I tried to explain to her that she might not get his autograph or get to shake his hand. Last time my parents saw him, they were Patrons (paid good money for that title) and were at a Luncheon with Congressmen, etc., when the President came in. The group was fairly small and that's why Grandma got her cheek kissed and Grandpa got his hand shook. This event is free and open to the public (within limits, of course - you had to submit your name in advance to be investigated by the Secret Service and were issued tickets) so there will likely be thousands of people. It's doubtful Deanna will get very close to the President, but we sure can hope. And even if she doesn't get close, she WILL get to see him in person.
I hope she's not disappointed. And I hope she gets to make personal contact with President Bush. Mostly, I hope this is something she'll always remember.
It's an opportunity I've never had.
Deanna called a few minutes ago to tell me they hadn't gotten through the doors yet. But she said that there were more people behind them than in front of them.
She's really excited. When President Bush ran for election the first time, she got up out of bed and came into the living room where I was watching the returns. She sat up with me for several hours, trying to understand the political process (at all of 4 years old) and sharing in my excitement. When it became obvious that we weren't going to have a final decision that night, we both went to bed. The next morning, we turned on the news to see what had happened and heard about the contested race and all the ballot problems. After listening, we committed to each other to pray every day that George W. Bush would be our next president. Right then and there, we knelt on the floor in the living room and asked for God's intervention in this important election.
We kept our commitment and prayed together every day until Bush finally was confirmed. We watched the Inauguration together and cried, thanking the Lord for the godly man He had put in the White House.
She's never forgotten that. So when Grandma and Grandpa invited her to go with them, she was thrilled. I tried to explain to her that she might not get his autograph or get to shake his hand. Last time my parents saw him, they were Patrons (paid good money for that title) and were at a Luncheon with Congressmen, etc., when the President came in. The group was fairly small and that's why Grandma got her cheek kissed and Grandpa got his hand shook. This event is free and open to the public (within limits, of course - you had to submit your name in advance to be investigated by the Secret Service and were issued tickets) so there will likely be thousands of people. It's doubtful Deanna will get very close to the President, but we sure can hope. And even if she doesn't get close, she WILL get to see him in person.
I hope she's not disappointed. And I hope she gets to make personal contact with President Bush. Mostly, I hope this is something she'll always remember.
It's an opportunity I've never had.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Living Room Re-decorating
It was this weekend three years ago that we moved back into our renovated home. On Friday, the race was on. The Contractor was pushing the sub-contractors to finish the job. When I left the house at 2:50 to pick Deanna up at school and get dressed for the house closing, the counters with sinks were still not in - the bathrooms were bare and certainly not usable. The cabinet makers had just brought the cabinetry in and were attaching it to the walls and sealing it. I was trying to hold panic at bay. I trusted our Contractor, but was doubtful we could really move in. However, we were determined. We had friends lined up to help us, a moving van, and childcare. Determined ... that's what we were.
Well, the counters made it and we moved in, amazingly peacefully. I was thinking yesterday about my living room. I love that room. I have great wall sconces and ambient lighting. I have lace panel curtains on the tinted Andersen windows. The walls are a warm white (Country Cream) and the natural wood arch leading from the dining room into the living room is a focal point. We keep this room closed off from the children and dog so it's in decent shape when we have company. My friends who meet with me on Wednesday morning at 6:00 for Devotions can arrive to a neat, clean room, despite the chaos elsewhere in the house. If someone drops by, I can usher them into the living room where we can visit in peace without clutter around us. The problem is this ... I've never really put up pictures in there, and the decorating leaves something to be desired. I want this room to be airy and uncluttered, but cozy and warm and stylish. I think what I've accomplished is neat, sparce, and plain.
I have no vision. I can't even imagine how to transform this room, though I'm sure other people would have plenty of ideas. Yesterday I was thinking about hiring an Interior Decorator, however, I don't want to spend any REAL money to improve the look of the room. Friends of mine have these lovely, warm rooms with beautiful colors that create the atmosphere. I can't change the color of the walls in this room because there's no doorway between the living room and the hall, which opens into other halls and the den. If I tried to paint the living room, I'd have to carry the color into the halls and half the house would have to be repainted.
My sister has a great eye for decorating. I've thought of having her over, but her taste is VERY different from mine. I love her taste. Her home is darling and reflects her personality. But I want MY living room to reflect me, not her.
Surely, there's someone out there who'd be willing to come and look at my living room and give me some ideas that reflect MY taste without me having to pay a fortune. Any volunteers?
Sent me an e-mail or give me a call if you're willing to volunteer your services. It's only one room.
Well, the counters made it and we moved in, amazingly peacefully. I was thinking yesterday about my living room. I love that room. I have great wall sconces and ambient lighting. I have lace panel curtains on the tinted Andersen windows. The walls are a warm white (Country Cream) and the natural wood arch leading from the dining room into the living room is a focal point. We keep this room closed off from the children and dog so it's in decent shape when we have company. My friends who meet with me on Wednesday morning at 6:00 for Devotions can arrive to a neat, clean room, despite the chaos elsewhere in the house. If someone drops by, I can usher them into the living room where we can visit in peace without clutter around us. The problem is this ... I've never really put up pictures in there, and the decorating leaves something to be desired. I want this room to be airy and uncluttered, but cozy and warm and stylish. I think what I've accomplished is neat, sparce, and plain.
I have no vision. I can't even imagine how to transform this room, though I'm sure other people would have plenty of ideas. Yesterday I was thinking about hiring an Interior Decorator, however, I don't want to spend any REAL money to improve the look of the room. Friends of mine have these lovely, warm rooms with beautiful colors that create the atmosphere. I can't change the color of the walls in this room because there's no doorway between the living room and the hall, which opens into other halls and the den. If I tried to paint the living room, I'd have to carry the color into the halls and half the house would have to be repainted.
My sister has a great eye for decorating. I've thought of having her over, but her taste is VERY different from mine. I love her taste. Her home is darling and reflects her personality. But I want MY living room to reflect me, not her.
Surely, there's someone out there who'd be willing to come and look at my living room and give me some ideas that reflect MY taste without me having to pay a fortune. Any volunteers?
Sent me an e-mail or give me a call if you're willing to volunteer your services. It's only one room.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
One Begets the Other
Daelyn: "Mama, is Lightning Niehaus your friend?"
Me, struggling to remember if any of my friend's children might use the nickname, "Lightning": "I'm not quite sure, son. Who's Lightning Niehaus?"
Daelyn: "You know, Mama, that lady."
Me: "Do you mean 'Stormy Niehaus'?"
Daelyn: "Yeah, her. She's the one."
Me, struggling to remember if any of my friend's children might use the nickname, "Lightning": "I'm not quite sure, son. Who's Lightning Niehaus?"
Daelyn: "You know, Mama, that lady."
Me: "Do you mean 'Stormy Niehaus'?"
Daelyn: "Yeah, her. She's the one."
Spirit (or spirits) Day
Yesterday was Spirit Day at school. Our Girls' Volleyball Team is going to State (or something like that) so all the students were supposed to dress in red, white and gold (the school colors) and a Pep Rally was scheduled.
After dropping Deanna and Dane off, Daelyn and I were driving through the parking lot on our way home. Several of the high schoolers and middle schoolers had on quite outlandish outfits. It was comical driving past them, looking them over.
Me: "They sure look goofy, some of them. They really went all out on their costumes."
Daelyn: "I don't understand. Why are they all dressed like that?"
Me: "Because it's Spirit Day."
Daelyn: "What IS Spirit Day?"
Me: "It's a day of celebration. We celebrate our school."
Daelyn: "Mama, why would we want to celebrate spirits. Aren't they bad?"
Me: Silence. How do you respond to that?
After dropping Deanna and Dane off, Daelyn and I were driving through the parking lot on our way home. Several of the high schoolers and middle schoolers had on quite outlandish outfits. It was comical driving past them, looking them over.
Me: "They sure look goofy, some of them. They really went all out on their costumes."
Daelyn: "I don't understand. Why are they all dressed like that?"
Me: "Because it's Spirit Day."
Daelyn: "What IS Spirit Day?"
Me: "It's a day of celebration. We celebrate our school."
Daelyn: "Mama, why would we want to celebrate spirits. Aren't they bad?"
Me: Silence. How do you respond to that?
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Card Tutor
Daelyn didn't want to go to the Y with me today while I worked out, so Grandma said he could go over there. I stopped to pick him up on my way home and he jumped up off the floor in the living room.
"Come with me, Mama. I got something to show you." He took me by the hand and lead me through the house into the Florida room in the back. As I was greeting my parents, he ran over to Grandma's card table, snatched up a piece of paper, and returned to me, grinning.
I glanced at the piece of paper. It had a capital D with a line under it. At the bottom of the page, it said "388". Next to that was a column headed by G. The number at the bottom of that column said "155".
I grinned at Daelyn. Grandma had been whomped at cards by the third of the Doughty children. Before I had a chance to respond, Daelyn laughed and yelled, "Grandma's a goose egg!!"
I raised my eyebrows and looked at my mother. She shrugged gently and said, "I'm a goose egg." Daelyn danced off to watch TV again and Mama added, "The worst part is, Daelyn lays all his cards on the table and I tell him which ones to play. I beat myself. "
Tough day for Grandma, but it sure made Daelyn's.
"Come with me, Mama. I got something to show you." He took me by the hand and lead me through the house into the Florida room in the back. As I was greeting my parents, he ran over to Grandma's card table, snatched up a piece of paper, and returned to me, grinning.
I glanced at the piece of paper. It had a capital D with a line under it. At the bottom of the page, it said "388". Next to that was a column headed by G. The number at the bottom of that column said "155".
I grinned at Daelyn. Grandma had been whomped at cards by the third of the Doughty children. Before I had a chance to respond, Daelyn laughed and yelled, "Grandma's a goose egg!!"
I raised my eyebrows and looked at my mother. She shrugged gently and said, "I'm a goose egg." Daelyn danced off to watch TV again and Mama added, "The worst part is, Daelyn lays all his cards on the table and I tell him which ones to play. I beat myself. "
Tough day for Grandma, but it sure made Daelyn's.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Temper, temper
Daelyn's going through a stage where he says mean things to me, usually when he's disciplined. He'll go running from the room, yelling, "You're the WORST Mommy in the whole world!" Often, he adds, "You're a dumb Mommy."
Now, the last one is particularly problematic, since it's not only disrespect of his mother and ugliness that's way over the top, but we also do not allow our children to use the words, "dumb", "stupid", or "shut up". This expletive is several offenses wrapped into one.
We've been clamping down hard on him when he talks this way. But, the truth is, Daelyn has a lot of Irish blood AND an Irish temper, just like me. Add testosterone to that and it's a recipe for disaster.
Some of his ill-manners are quite understandable to me, since I struggle with an Irish temper, as well. I'm a happy, joyful person by nature, and have learned to control my anger most of the time, but when I lose it, I lose it BIG. Once, while in college, I received a phone call that angered me. I pulled the phone out of the wall. Once, I was angry for weeks after someone who responded to my car for sale ad in the newspaper hit my new car with my old car in the driveway of my house. I had to be avoided by my friends until I was able to "shake it off".
So Daelyn's temper is understandable, however, totally unacceptable. We've been working very hard at getting it under control with time-outs, being sent to his bedroom, restriction from this or that, etc. We've tried spanking, but it only seems to exacerbate the problem.
Last night, Daelyn was thrilled with dinner. We had left-over pesto chicken over fettucini with honied carrots. His exuberance was refreshing.
"Mama, thank you for this WONDERFUL meal. You're the best Mommy EVER!!"
Somehow, the compliment wasn't quite as meaningful as it would have been without previous negative comments to the opposite. Nastiness can't be forgotten by one episode of extremely affectionate talk.
I glanced at Deanna who was smirking.
"So, Mommy's the best now, not the dumbest?" She looked over at me and rolled her eyes.
"He's fickle, honey. Just let it go."
"What's 'fickle', Mom?" Dane asked.
"Stick around for a few minutes, son, and you'll have a great example."
By this morning, I had lost my title of "best mom" and was back to "stinky mom". One day, perhaps, my changeling will be more stable and appreciate his mother. Until then, we discipline, love, and try hard to teach our little one the pitfalls of temper.
Now, the last one is particularly problematic, since it's not only disrespect of his mother and ugliness that's way over the top, but we also do not allow our children to use the words, "dumb", "stupid", or "shut up". This expletive is several offenses wrapped into one.
We've been clamping down hard on him when he talks this way. But, the truth is, Daelyn has a lot of Irish blood AND an Irish temper, just like me. Add testosterone to that and it's a recipe for disaster.
Some of his ill-manners are quite understandable to me, since I struggle with an Irish temper, as well. I'm a happy, joyful person by nature, and have learned to control my anger most of the time, but when I lose it, I lose it BIG. Once, while in college, I received a phone call that angered me. I pulled the phone out of the wall. Once, I was angry for weeks after someone who responded to my car for sale ad in the newspaper hit my new car with my old car in the driveway of my house. I had to be avoided by my friends until I was able to "shake it off".
So Daelyn's temper is understandable, however, totally unacceptable. We've been working very hard at getting it under control with time-outs, being sent to his bedroom, restriction from this or that, etc. We've tried spanking, but it only seems to exacerbate the problem.
Last night, Daelyn was thrilled with dinner. We had left-over pesto chicken over fettucini with honied carrots. His exuberance was refreshing.
"Mama, thank you for this WONDERFUL meal. You're the best Mommy EVER!!"
Somehow, the compliment wasn't quite as meaningful as it would have been without previous negative comments to the opposite. Nastiness can't be forgotten by one episode of extremely affectionate talk.
I glanced at Deanna who was smirking.
"So, Mommy's the best now, not the dumbest?" She looked over at me and rolled her eyes.
"He's fickle, honey. Just let it go."
"What's 'fickle', Mom?" Dane asked.
"Stick around for a few minutes, son, and you'll have a great example."
By this morning, I had lost my title of "best mom" and was back to "stinky mom". One day, perhaps, my changeling will be more stable and appreciate his mother. Until then, we discipline, love, and try hard to teach our little one the pitfalls of temper.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Freedom Flag
Last night, we were driving home from downtown. On the way, we passed an Adult Bookstore - the only one in the City. It met with a huge amount of controversy and was closed and reopened, closed and reopened several times. Christians would lobby against it and the government would come down on it, forcing it to close. Then, their high-powered attorneys would get some injunction or something, and it would reopen. This went on for several years.
Everytime we passed by it, which was at least twice weekly (to and from church), I'd pray against it, asking the Lord to close it down and to keep that evil out of our city. Many other people were doing the same thing. After two years or so of the closing-reopening cycles, it went completely out of business. Interestingly enough, they always flew a HUGE American flag out front, which they didn't remove when they closed the doors for the last time.
Don commented, after driving by last night, that the flag was pretty tattered. It was old, torn, and faded. The analogy simply jumped into my mind.
Isn't that exactly what Adult Bookstores do to the flag? They stomp on our freedom, taking advantage of it for evil purposes, using the freedom hard-fought for by many, including those who gave their lives, for their own selfish purposes while slowly but surely shredding the flag that allows that freedom. As I thought about that torn, dirtied flag, I realized that everytime we choose to misappropriate freedom or treat it fast and loose, we do the same thing.
Our flag should do more than just remind us of our country. It should remind us of our awsome, moral responsibility to hold it high by our every action.
Everytime we passed by it, which was at least twice weekly (to and from church), I'd pray against it, asking the Lord to close it down and to keep that evil out of our city. Many other people were doing the same thing. After two years or so of the closing-reopening cycles, it went completely out of business. Interestingly enough, they always flew a HUGE American flag out front, which they didn't remove when they closed the doors for the last time.
Don commented, after driving by last night, that the flag was pretty tattered. It was old, torn, and faded. The analogy simply jumped into my mind.
Isn't that exactly what Adult Bookstores do to the flag? They stomp on our freedom, taking advantage of it for evil purposes, using the freedom hard-fought for by many, including those who gave their lives, for their own selfish purposes while slowly but surely shredding the flag that allows that freedom. As I thought about that torn, dirtied flag, I realized that everytime we choose to misappropriate freedom or treat it fast and loose, we do the same thing.
Our flag should do more than just remind us of our country. It should remind us of our awsome, moral responsibility to hold it high by our every action.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Time to Take Time
Since school started, we've been living a new family schedule. I wake the children at 6:30, so they have lots of time to get ready for school without having to rush. They usually have their backpacks on their backs and are ready to walk out the door 10 minutes before we leave to walk to school - chores done, spelling words and memory verses reviewed, etc. Very peaceful for everyone.
When they get home from school, they change clothes and lay out their school clothes for the next day, then have a snack and visit with Mom. Next is homework, then playtime. We eat dinner at 5:00, and have plenty of time to waste together at the table.
After dinner, the children clear their places and get their baths. Don doesn't get home from work until 6:15-ish, so they get to visit with Dad while he eats. Most evenings, I read to them for 20 minutes or so, then they take their medicines, brush teeth, and it's off to bed by 7:00 p.m.
While they bathe, I clean up the kitchen, so I'm ready to read to them at 6:30. Once they're in bed, Don and I have time together. We've never, in our 11 years of marriage, talked so much. We have two hours most evenings to visit and talk about issues before we head towards bed.
The really funny thing is, the more I talk to him, the more I want to talk to him. During the day, I think of things I want to tell him and questions I want to ask him. It's amazing - this time with him is so precious. Not that I ever stopped, but I'm falling in love with him even more. Life is good - school time, family time, time to share about the Lord, reading time, bonding time, chore time, and MOM AND DAD TIME - Yahoo!!!
Our new schedule has brought new life to all of us. God is good. Life is good. YEAH!
On another note, I've finished four workouts at the Y so far (Mon. through Wed. and today) and they just get better. I'm feeling better already and am having fun. A lot of my friends workout at the Y so I get to socialize while exercising. Could life get any better?
When they get home from school, they change clothes and lay out their school clothes for the next day, then have a snack and visit with Mom. Next is homework, then playtime. We eat dinner at 5:00, and have plenty of time to waste together at the table.
After dinner, the children clear their places and get their baths. Don doesn't get home from work until 6:15-ish, so they get to visit with Dad while he eats. Most evenings, I read to them for 20 minutes or so, then they take their medicines, brush teeth, and it's off to bed by 7:00 p.m.
While they bathe, I clean up the kitchen, so I'm ready to read to them at 6:30. Once they're in bed, Don and I have time together. We've never, in our 11 years of marriage, talked so much. We have two hours most evenings to visit and talk about issues before we head towards bed.
The really funny thing is, the more I talk to him, the more I want to talk to him. During the day, I think of things I want to tell him and questions I want to ask him. It's amazing - this time with him is so precious. Not that I ever stopped, but I'm falling in love with him even more. Life is good - school time, family time, time to share about the Lord, reading time, bonding time, chore time, and MOM AND DAD TIME - Yahoo!!!
Our new schedule has brought new life to all of us. God is good. Life is good. YEAH!
On another note, I've finished four workouts at the Y so far (Mon. through Wed. and today) and they just get better. I'm feeling better already and am having fun. A lot of my friends workout at the Y so I get to socialize while exercising. Could life get any better?
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Interview with God
Click on the link below, then follow the directions. It's well worth the effort.
P.S. Make sure your volume is turned up.
http://www.theinterviewwithgod.com/
P.S. Make sure your volume is turned up.
http://www.theinterviewwithgod.com/
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Signs, signs, and more signs
My parents, as I've mentioned before, have become very politically-active in recent years. With the general election less than a month away, my father has been very busy putting out signs in support of all his Republican buddies. Almost every house on our street has a sign in the yard for a Senator, Mayor, or someone else running who Daddy's supporting. You can see him walking up and down the street with signs tucked under his arm and a hammer in his hand. We've seen him and so, I'm sure, has everyone else.
On Monday, Daelyn and I were stopped at a stoplight about 2 miles from our house (at least a dozen blocks away). Daelyn was sitting quietly in his booster seat, a rarity, to be sure. Then he said, "Mama, Grandpa put those signs up."
I turned to see where he was pointing, then turned around and looked. The corner was full of signs for different candidates. However, obviously, my father had not put those signs up. In the first place, it was entirely too far from our house - neighborhood is one thing, the entire city is something else. In the second place, they were on gas station property and Daddy only puts them in the yards of people he knows. Thirdly, they were for Democrats and candidates that my father is not supporting.
"No, son," I explained, "Grandpa didn't put up those signs."
"Yes, huh!" Daelyn responded. (Where does he get this "Huh" business. I'm an English major. I SURE didn't teach him.)
"No, Daelyn, he really didn't." In an effort to convince without confusing, I chose the first reason on my list and explained, "This is too far from our house. Grandpa wouldn't put signs all the way out here, hon."
Daelyn seemed only slightly convinced, but he snorted and closed the subject.
The next day, we were returning from running some errands. My parents had planned on attending a funeral of a mutual friend and then spending time with my sister who lives near the cemetery. They weren't expected home until late afternoon.
About two blocks from that gas station corner, I noticed an attractive, older man, very well-dressed, walking down a sidewalk with signs under his arm. It took only seconds for me to realize it was Daddy, on his way back from the funeral. I saw my mother in the car parked just a little further down the street.
"There's Grandpa!" I yelled. The kids clamored to the windows to see him.
"What's he doing, Mama," Deanna asked.
"Putting up campaign signs, it looks like," I answered.
"I KNEW IT!" Daelyn yelled, triumphantly. If Grandpa could be THAT far away from home, he certainly could have put up the signs just two blocks away.
There's absolutely NO convincing him now. As far as he's concerned, Grandpa has put up every campaign sign in the city. All he needed was proof, and he got it.
I've decided to give up the fight.
On Monday, Daelyn and I were stopped at a stoplight about 2 miles from our house (at least a dozen blocks away). Daelyn was sitting quietly in his booster seat, a rarity, to be sure. Then he said, "Mama, Grandpa put those signs up."
I turned to see where he was pointing, then turned around and looked. The corner was full of signs for different candidates. However, obviously, my father had not put those signs up. In the first place, it was entirely too far from our house - neighborhood is one thing, the entire city is something else. In the second place, they were on gas station property and Daddy only puts them in the yards of people he knows. Thirdly, they were for Democrats and candidates that my father is not supporting.
"No, son," I explained, "Grandpa didn't put up those signs."
"Yes, huh!" Daelyn responded. (Where does he get this "Huh" business. I'm an English major. I SURE didn't teach him.)
"No, Daelyn, he really didn't." In an effort to convince without confusing, I chose the first reason on my list and explained, "This is too far from our house. Grandpa wouldn't put signs all the way out here, hon."
Daelyn seemed only slightly convinced, but he snorted and closed the subject.
The next day, we were returning from running some errands. My parents had planned on attending a funeral of a mutual friend and then spending time with my sister who lives near the cemetery. They weren't expected home until late afternoon.
About two blocks from that gas station corner, I noticed an attractive, older man, very well-dressed, walking down a sidewalk with signs under his arm. It took only seconds for me to realize it was Daddy, on his way back from the funeral. I saw my mother in the car parked just a little further down the street.
"There's Grandpa!" I yelled. The kids clamored to the windows to see him.
"What's he doing, Mama," Deanna asked.
"Putting up campaign signs, it looks like," I answered.
"I KNEW IT!" Daelyn yelled, triumphantly. If Grandpa could be THAT far away from home, he certainly could have put up the signs just two blocks away.
There's absolutely NO convincing him now. As far as he's concerned, Grandpa has put up every campaign sign in the city. All he needed was proof, and he got it.
I've decided to give up the fight.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Exercise time
We joined the Y yesterday. Years ago, when Deanna was a toddler, we had a membership so she could take Gymnastics. She enjoyed the classes, but we haven't been Y'ers for quite some time now. They built a huge, new facility last year and most of my friends have joined. We noticed the other day that they had completely torn down the old Gymnastics Center where Deanna took her classes.
Anyway, I desperately need an exercise program and Deanna could definately benefit from one. Her pediatrician recommended the Y. After the conversation I had with Don about new furniture, I decided it was time to call the exercise equipment question. So we visited on Saturday and decided it was a good fit for our family. The biggest plus, however, was that it was a no-risk offer.
Through Don's job, we can join without a signing fee and they give us a 10% discount on the monthly payments. We can drop out at any time if it's not working out for us with no penalty or loss of money. Then, to add a little gravy, they made a mistake when processing our membership and charged us only $30 for the first month instead of the normal $60 fee. I told them that I didn't want to complain and would certainly accept a membership at a deep discount, but I didn't quite understand. They laughed and explained that they had made a mistake and that I should just be thankful.
I worked out this morning for an hour (actually, we were there for an hour, but I had an orientation session first, so I really only worked out for about 1/2 an hour) and burned about 150 calories. This is just a drop in the bucket, I know, but every little bit helps and, next time, I do a harder, longer routine on the Elipse.
I happily told Don to mark the treadmill off the budget. And I'm working on the bike. The sooner we can mark items off, the sooner I might actually get my furniture!
Anyway, I desperately need an exercise program and Deanna could definately benefit from one. Her pediatrician recommended the Y. After the conversation I had with Don about new furniture, I decided it was time to call the exercise equipment question. So we visited on Saturday and decided it was a good fit for our family. The biggest plus, however, was that it was a no-risk offer.
Through Don's job, we can join without a signing fee and they give us a 10% discount on the monthly payments. We can drop out at any time if it's not working out for us with no penalty or loss of money. Then, to add a little gravy, they made a mistake when processing our membership and charged us only $30 for the first month instead of the normal $60 fee. I told them that I didn't want to complain and would certainly accept a membership at a deep discount, but I didn't quite understand. They laughed and explained that they had made a mistake and that I should just be thankful.
I worked out this morning for an hour (actually, we were there for an hour, but I had an orientation session first, so I really only worked out for about 1/2 an hour) and burned about 150 calories. This is just a drop in the bucket, I know, but every little bit helps and, next time, I do a harder, longer routine on the Elipse.
I happily told Don to mark the treadmill off the budget. And I'm working on the bike. The sooner we can mark items off, the sooner I might actually get my furniture!
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Tree Farm
Daelyn and I picked up 6 pizzas yesterday and took them to the school so the 3rd and 4th grades could have pizza parties, their reward for 100% class participation at the Chuck E. Cheese Fund Raiser on Monday night.
After dropping them off, we piled back in the van to head home for lunch. The smell of pizza fresh from the oven filled the van. Daelyn commented how good it smelled, then asked if we could have pizza for lunch, my very thoughts.
We headed to CiCi's where I ordered anchovy pizza - YUM! We had a wonderful meal, then headed home. Pulling out of the parking lot, I was looking both directions and thought about the tree farm right up the road. We've purchased our Christmas tree at this same farm for the last 20 years - until last year, when they closed. We loved Bailey's - acres and acres of beautiful, perfectly groomed trees, the smell of fresh-cut boughs in the air, burn barrels to gather around for warmth, hot boiled peanuts being sold at the shack, and lights strung so customers could choose even after dark. We'd stand around and take pictures while the young employee cut out choice down with a saw, then watch them load it onto the trailer and follow the tractor back up to the shed. There, it would be shaken out on a special stand to remove all the dead needles (an amazing thing to watch), then they'd put it on the prep table where bottom boughs could be removed to your specifications so the tree would fit snugly in your stand. If heighth needed to come off, again, they'd cut it per your request, carefully measuring to be sure your tree would fit into your house. Then they'd put it through the netting, wrapping it nicely so it was easy to move and boughs wouldn't be broken off in transit. If you wanted, they'd put your stand on the tree for you, saving you that step when you got home. Then, they'd tie it to the top of your car, you'd pay your bill, and off you'd go, singing Christmas carols the whole way home and often stopping along the way to look at light displays in people's yards.
Ah, the memories. Twenty years' worth. But Bailey's closed last year. The owner just was tired of trying to keep it up on his own. He has a full-time job and would spend every Saturday during the year grooming and watering, replanting and caring for the trees. He took all his vacation time over the Christmas season every year to run the farm.
"I don't need this," Syl told me. "I have a good-paying job. This is just too much for me. I didn't mind doing it all these years, but I'm just tired of it. I want a Saturday once in a while to myself and I want to go on a REAL vacation."
While I understood how he felt, I still terribly miss the farm. It was only about 2 miles from our house, but tucked away in a remote, rural area. We always felt like we had driven out into the country (all 10 minutes it took us to get there through traffic).
I sighed out loud and commented, "I hate that Bailey's has closed. I miss it."
Daelyn: "What? What's Bailey's?"
Me: "You know, the tree farm where we used to get our Christmas trees. It's right there down that road."
Daelyn: "I remember, Mama. Why did they close down?"
Me: "Well, it was just too much work for the owner, hon. He had another job and he spent ALL his spare time working at the tree farm. It was just too much for him. He couldn't handle it all by himself anymore."
Daelyn was very quiet for a while. Then, in a small, serious voice he said,
"Mama, I'll talk to my boss and see if I can get off work early so I can help Mr. Syl."
Sweet Daelyn. Only 4 years old and already hoisting the cares of the world onto his shoulders.
I snickered, wondering who his "boss" was and just what "work" he was going to leave early. He heard me and got very offended.
Okay, okay. I'm a rotten Mommy. I shouldn't have laughed when my 4-yr. old is trying to help his fellow man.
After dropping them off, we piled back in the van to head home for lunch. The smell of pizza fresh from the oven filled the van. Daelyn commented how good it smelled, then asked if we could have pizza for lunch, my very thoughts.
We headed to CiCi's where I ordered anchovy pizza - YUM! We had a wonderful meal, then headed home. Pulling out of the parking lot, I was looking both directions and thought about the tree farm right up the road. We've purchased our Christmas tree at this same farm for the last 20 years - until last year, when they closed. We loved Bailey's - acres and acres of beautiful, perfectly groomed trees, the smell of fresh-cut boughs in the air, burn barrels to gather around for warmth, hot boiled peanuts being sold at the shack, and lights strung so customers could choose even after dark. We'd stand around and take pictures while the young employee cut out choice down with a saw, then watch them load it onto the trailer and follow the tractor back up to the shed. There, it would be shaken out on a special stand to remove all the dead needles (an amazing thing to watch), then they'd put it on the prep table where bottom boughs could be removed to your specifications so the tree would fit snugly in your stand. If heighth needed to come off, again, they'd cut it per your request, carefully measuring to be sure your tree would fit into your house. Then they'd put it through the netting, wrapping it nicely so it was easy to move and boughs wouldn't be broken off in transit. If you wanted, they'd put your stand on the tree for you, saving you that step when you got home. Then, they'd tie it to the top of your car, you'd pay your bill, and off you'd go, singing Christmas carols the whole way home and often stopping along the way to look at light displays in people's yards.
Ah, the memories. Twenty years' worth. But Bailey's closed last year. The owner just was tired of trying to keep it up on his own. He has a full-time job and would spend every Saturday during the year grooming and watering, replanting and caring for the trees. He took all his vacation time over the Christmas season every year to run the farm.
"I don't need this," Syl told me. "I have a good-paying job. This is just too much for me. I didn't mind doing it all these years, but I'm just tired of it. I want a Saturday once in a while to myself and I want to go on a REAL vacation."
While I understood how he felt, I still terribly miss the farm. It was only about 2 miles from our house, but tucked away in a remote, rural area. We always felt like we had driven out into the country (all 10 minutes it took us to get there through traffic).
I sighed out loud and commented, "I hate that Bailey's has closed. I miss it."
Daelyn: "What? What's Bailey's?"
Me: "You know, the tree farm where we used to get our Christmas trees. It's right there down that road."
Daelyn: "I remember, Mama. Why did they close down?"
Me: "Well, it was just too much work for the owner, hon. He had another job and he spent ALL his spare time working at the tree farm. It was just too much for him. He couldn't handle it all by himself anymore."
Daelyn was very quiet for a while. Then, in a small, serious voice he said,
"Mama, I'll talk to my boss and see if I can get off work early so I can help Mr. Syl."
Sweet Daelyn. Only 4 years old and already hoisting the cares of the world onto his shoulders.
I snickered, wondering who his "boss" was and just what "work" he was going to leave early. He heard me and got very offended.
Okay, okay. I'm a rotten Mommy. I shouldn't have laughed when my 4-yr. old is trying to help his fellow man.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Furniture . . . PLEASE!!
I'm on the hunt for new furniture. Most of the pieces I had when Don and I married were accumulated from different sources and didn't match. I spent my money fixing up the house, not buying furniture. The only really nice piece of furniture I owned was a queen-sleeper sofa that I special-ordered in the fabric and design I wanted. My coffee table and end tables were bought at a yard sale - somebody else's throw-aways. My bed had been given to me. You get the general idea. Nothing matched.
Then Don and I married. He brought with him a few pieces of furniture, most of it old and manly - nothing I would ever have chosen for myself. But at least we had a decent dresser, a few chairs to go with our dining room table, and a loveseat for our den.
We've been married 11 years now. My lovely couch had seen better days 6 years ago. Now it's covered with a removable slipcover which has to be neated up daily and is messy immediately upon being sat on. Don's loveseat is falling apart and our bedroom furniture is just too bulky for my tastes.
When we gutted and redid our house, my parents began getting rid of everything they didn't want. They figured we had plenty of room, so all their throw-aways ended up here. My father had an old recliner that his mother had given him before her death. It has great sentimental value for my father, but NOT for Mom. She had decided to put it out on the street, despite the fact that my father sat in it for hours every day, because it didn't go along with her decor. My father asked and I took pity on him. So our living room has a blue spray-painted nogahide recliner (the most uncomfortable chair I've ever sat in) in the middle of it. In addition, my mother designed and had built for her in the Orient a sewing center. My mother was quite a seamstress in her day. The sewing center is room-sized and contains huge drawers for fabric, notion drawers, a full-sized cutting board, a drawer of spindles for thread as well as a cut-out area for a sewing machine. My mother used it for years but doesn't sew anymore and decided to rid herself of her teak sewing center. My sisters all begged her not to sell it. It has great sentimental value for our family. She decided MY BEDROOM was the perfect place for it and, before I knew it, I had inherited this huge catch-all (I don't sew) that takes up the entire wall on which I had intended to put a loveseat for private conversations with Don or just relaxing and reading.
I haven't yet come up with any solutions to the pieces of furniture I inherited from Mom, but I'm certainly ready to get rid of everything else in the house. We need a new entertainment center (the cabinet doors on ours constantly fall off and it's low and long instead of tall and narrow, which is what we need). I want a new couch for the living room and a new loveseat for the den. I have managed to accumulate a couple of nice leather gliders/recliners for the living room and den.
Down the road, I want to replace Deanna's twin bed with a full-sized so we have a bed for married guests. Her bed will go into the toy room as a spare. Then, if Grandma and Grandpa Doughty visit, they can have Deanna's full bed and she can move into the toy room.
I'd also like to replace our dining room table (a hand-me-down that was my parents when I was growing up and is in terrible shape) and get a china cabinet and hutch to match. In the kitchen, we have an old pressed-board microwave stand that pokes out way too much. I'd like to replace it with a natural wood corner stand that matches the natural wood kitchen table and my kitchen cabinets.
So I hunt ... and ask Don to buy ... and when he never responds, I hunt some more ... and ask Don to buy. Anybody notice a pattern here?
Yesterday, I found a leather sectional with 3 reclining seats and a chaise. I WANT IT. It has two tacky consoles stuck inbetween the other pieces. I removed the consoles at the store and the sofa without them was classy-looking. It's amazing how much two consoles can cheapen a beautiful piece of furniture. Anyway, the consoles are damaged (another reason they're tacky) so I wouldn't want them, anyway. The Manager quoted me a price of $700 for the couch. Remember, I said LEATHER. Now the big question is, will Don be willing to part with the money?
I asked him again if he has any intention of buying the couch for me. He responded, "You want a treadmill, a new car for me, a couch, a Y Membership, and a bike. I'm a little overwhelmed."
I can understand his point. It is all a little overwhelming. However, if he'd just begin making purchases, I'd feel like we're at least accomplishing SOMETHING.
Maybe we can have a few more conversations and nail down one of these to purchase right now. With a little planning and a push here and there for Don, perhaps I might get some new furniture within the next couple of years.
Anybody out there in Blogland want a blue nogahide recliner and a teak room-size sewing center?
Then Don and I married. He brought with him a few pieces of furniture, most of it old and manly - nothing I would ever have chosen for myself. But at least we had a decent dresser, a few chairs to go with our dining room table, and a loveseat for our den.
We've been married 11 years now. My lovely couch had seen better days 6 years ago. Now it's covered with a removable slipcover which has to be neated up daily and is messy immediately upon being sat on. Don's loveseat is falling apart and our bedroom furniture is just too bulky for my tastes.
When we gutted and redid our house, my parents began getting rid of everything they didn't want. They figured we had plenty of room, so all their throw-aways ended up here. My father had an old recliner that his mother had given him before her death. It has great sentimental value for my father, but NOT for Mom. She had decided to put it out on the street, despite the fact that my father sat in it for hours every day, because it didn't go along with her decor. My father asked and I took pity on him. So our living room has a blue spray-painted nogahide recliner (the most uncomfortable chair I've ever sat in) in the middle of it. In addition, my mother designed and had built for her in the Orient a sewing center. My mother was quite a seamstress in her day. The sewing center is room-sized and contains huge drawers for fabric, notion drawers, a full-sized cutting board, a drawer of spindles for thread as well as a cut-out area for a sewing machine. My mother used it for years but doesn't sew anymore and decided to rid herself of her teak sewing center. My sisters all begged her not to sell it. It has great sentimental value for our family. She decided MY BEDROOM was the perfect place for it and, before I knew it, I had inherited this huge catch-all (I don't sew) that takes up the entire wall on which I had intended to put a loveseat for private conversations with Don or just relaxing and reading.
I haven't yet come up with any solutions to the pieces of furniture I inherited from Mom, but I'm certainly ready to get rid of everything else in the house. We need a new entertainment center (the cabinet doors on ours constantly fall off and it's low and long instead of tall and narrow, which is what we need). I want a new couch for the living room and a new loveseat for the den. I have managed to accumulate a couple of nice leather gliders/recliners for the living room and den.
Down the road, I want to replace Deanna's twin bed with a full-sized so we have a bed for married guests. Her bed will go into the toy room as a spare. Then, if Grandma and Grandpa Doughty visit, they can have Deanna's full bed and she can move into the toy room.
I'd also like to replace our dining room table (a hand-me-down that was my parents when I was growing up and is in terrible shape) and get a china cabinet and hutch to match. In the kitchen, we have an old pressed-board microwave stand that pokes out way too much. I'd like to replace it with a natural wood corner stand that matches the natural wood kitchen table and my kitchen cabinets.
So I hunt ... and ask Don to buy ... and when he never responds, I hunt some more ... and ask Don to buy. Anybody notice a pattern here?
Yesterday, I found a leather sectional with 3 reclining seats and a chaise. I WANT IT. It has two tacky consoles stuck inbetween the other pieces. I removed the consoles at the store and the sofa without them was classy-looking. It's amazing how much two consoles can cheapen a beautiful piece of furniture. Anyway, the consoles are damaged (another reason they're tacky) so I wouldn't want them, anyway. The Manager quoted me a price of $700 for the couch. Remember, I said LEATHER. Now the big question is, will Don be willing to part with the money?
I asked him again if he has any intention of buying the couch for me. He responded, "You want a treadmill, a new car for me, a couch, a Y Membership, and a bike. I'm a little overwhelmed."
I can understand his point. It is all a little overwhelming. However, if he'd just begin making purchases, I'd feel like we're at least accomplishing SOMETHING.
Maybe we can have a few more conversations and nail down one of these to purchase right now. With a little planning and a push here and there for Don, perhaps I might get some new furniture within the next couple of years.
Anybody out there in Blogland want a blue nogahide recliner and a teak room-size sewing center?
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Complaining Species
For the last several weeks, our Sunday School Class has been studying Exodus. Last week, our teacher asked all of us to write a first-person journal entry as if we were one of the Israelites wandering in the desert. What would we say about our experience?
I've always been a little critical of the Israelites. God did so much for them and, yet, they were an ungrateful people who complained continuously. They groaned that life was better for them back in Egypt and it would be better to be a slave than lost in the wilderness. They complained that they didn't have food, so God provided mannah. Then they complained that they didn't have meat, so God provided fowl. This was all within days of them crossing the Red Sea and watching Pharaoh's armies being destroyed when the waters closed up behind them. How could they experience such tremendous miracles in their midst and still grumble and complain. How could they witness 24-hours a day the presence of Yahweh in the pillar of fire and a cloud, leading them through the desert, and still think they would perish. God's visible presence was with them, and they still doubted.
When I sat at the table on Sunday morning, thinking, pondering in my dramatic way, how the Israelites must have felt, I experienced something completely new. I began to understand their fears. For centuries, they had been separated from their own land and worshipping their God had been a challenge. Although they had maintained their hope, I'm not sure they all really had a deep faith. Their faith was less theirs and more their ancestors. And Moses was leading them. Within their lifetime, he had been an Egyptian, one of their enslavers. Suddenly, they're supposed to trust him and believe that he speaks for this God that they barely know. Everything around them is foreign and scary, even this faith that they are commanded to practice. Suddenly, they are faced with LAWS, RULES. Everything is well-ordered and dictated. This experience had to be mind-boggling.
Add to that human nature. I have a beloved friend that, many years ago, desperately needed a new car, but had no money to buy one. She prayed and prayed and asked the Lord to provide for her. While at work one day and listening to the radio, she participated in a call-in game and won a key to a car. Several keys were given out. Then the key-winners met at a car dealership on a Saturday morning and each tried their key in a brand new car. The one whose key started the car got to drive it home. As you've already guessed, my friend's key started the car. GOD GAVE HER A CAR. It was amazing and miraculous, but God's provision for her was steadfast. She needed a car and had no other way to obtain one - God provided.
All of us have experienced miracles in our lives, but does that keep us from complaining for the rest of our lives? Of course not, because we're human. We can experience a miracle like the one my friend did and, the very next day, complain to the Lord about some other area of our life. All of us have done it. We're a complaining species. It seems to be almost impossible to hold the memory of God's miracles close enough that we think of them instead of our problems.
Can I really blame the Israelites for their complaining in the desert? God didn't. He faithfully, time after time, responded to their complaining with acts of love. He does the same for us today. He understands our humanness, like a parent who watches their tired child acting out. While we know it's wrong, we understand what's happening to them and are filled with compassion. Instead of spanking, we take them in our arms, snuggle them close, and sing a gentle lullabye. Does God do any less for us? Did he do any less for his children in the desert?
I don't want to be a complaining, grumpy child. I want to be worthy of the miracles and faithfulness of our Lord. I want to hold his love for me and provision for me so close that my focus is constantly on Him. I want to BAN grumbling and complaining. I want to focus on all the blessings God has bestowed on me.
I want to be less human and take on the image of Our Father. I want to remember always the example of the Israelites in the wilderness and work hard to be different.
I've always been a little critical of the Israelites. God did so much for them and, yet, they were an ungrateful people who complained continuously. They groaned that life was better for them back in Egypt and it would be better to be a slave than lost in the wilderness. They complained that they didn't have food, so God provided mannah. Then they complained that they didn't have meat, so God provided fowl. This was all within days of them crossing the Red Sea and watching Pharaoh's armies being destroyed when the waters closed up behind them. How could they experience such tremendous miracles in their midst and still grumble and complain. How could they witness 24-hours a day the presence of Yahweh in the pillar of fire and a cloud, leading them through the desert, and still think they would perish. God's visible presence was with them, and they still doubted.
When I sat at the table on Sunday morning, thinking, pondering in my dramatic way, how the Israelites must have felt, I experienced something completely new. I began to understand their fears. For centuries, they had been separated from their own land and worshipping their God had been a challenge. Although they had maintained their hope, I'm not sure they all really had a deep faith. Their faith was less theirs and more their ancestors. And Moses was leading them. Within their lifetime, he had been an Egyptian, one of their enslavers. Suddenly, they're supposed to trust him and believe that he speaks for this God that they barely know. Everything around them is foreign and scary, even this faith that they are commanded to practice. Suddenly, they are faced with LAWS, RULES. Everything is well-ordered and dictated. This experience had to be mind-boggling.
Add to that human nature. I have a beloved friend that, many years ago, desperately needed a new car, but had no money to buy one. She prayed and prayed and asked the Lord to provide for her. While at work one day and listening to the radio, she participated in a call-in game and won a key to a car. Several keys were given out. Then the key-winners met at a car dealership on a Saturday morning and each tried their key in a brand new car. The one whose key started the car got to drive it home. As you've already guessed, my friend's key started the car. GOD GAVE HER A CAR. It was amazing and miraculous, but God's provision for her was steadfast. She needed a car and had no other way to obtain one - God provided.
All of us have experienced miracles in our lives, but does that keep us from complaining for the rest of our lives? Of course not, because we're human. We can experience a miracle like the one my friend did and, the very next day, complain to the Lord about some other area of our life. All of us have done it. We're a complaining species. It seems to be almost impossible to hold the memory of God's miracles close enough that we think of them instead of our problems.
Can I really blame the Israelites for their complaining in the desert? God didn't. He faithfully, time after time, responded to their complaining with acts of love. He does the same for us today. He understands our humanness, like a parent who watches their tired child acting out. While we know it's wrong, we understand what's happening to them and are filled with compassion. Instead of spanking, we take them in our arms, snuggle them close, and sing a gentle lullabye. Does God do any less for us? Did he do any less for his children in the desert?
I don't want to be a complaining, grumpy child. I want to be worthy of the miracles and faithfulness of our Lord. I want to hold his love for me and provision for me so close that my focus is constantly on Him. I want to BAN grumbling and complaining. I want to focus on all the blessings God has bestowed on me.
I want to be less human and take on the image of Our Father. I want to remember always the example of the Israelites in the wilderness and work hard to be different.
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