This week, I got an email post from my Uncle Howard in which he’d sent carbon copies to two of my first cousins, and one of my second cousins. I was delighted--finally, I could write to those two first cousins of mine, one of whom used to be a very close friend! I hadn’t had their addresses for years. I received replies to my posts the very next day. The Internet is amazing, is it not? It’s bad…and good…and incredible…and horrid, all at the same time.
My cousin Jeanine and her husband have 13 dogs and 2 cats! They are both veterinarians, and often bring home an animal who hasn’t been adopted, because they can’t stand to see the poor thing destroyed.
Jeanine and I, at about age 12, had very similar dogs. My dog was named Sparkle, and hers was named Blossom Bell Brisbane. They both were part shepherd, and part collie. Without comparing notes, we had taught those dogs of ours nearly exactly the same tricks--a good dozen of them. Those two dogs were the best-behaved dogs one could ever hope to meet.
One night after Larry and I went to the grocery store, we went driving out along Shady Lake Road, an old habit that is getting to be a rare occurrence, since Larry got this new job. That, because he has to be to work by 6:30 a.m., so late-night excursions are becoming a thing of the past. But we were glad we went, because that night we saw the biggest buck we’d ever seen out there. When we turned onto a farmer’s lane and shined our headlights on him, he turned, lowered his head, and ran at several does, chasing them into the woods. Then, after one last long look at us, he followed them into the thick trees.
Just last night, we drove out there again, and we saw another big buck. There was a doe lying in the ditch. She laid her head down and stayed put, and we thought perhaps she’d been hit by a car. The buck lingered nearby, which was strange in itself. Finally, when the buck was a little distance away, Larry got out and walked toward the doe--and she abruptly sprang to her feet and took off like a shot, over the fence and far into the field, toward the woods nearer the river. The buck cleared the fence and followed.
Farther on, a red fox ran across the road in front of us.
This afternoon we went for a drive in the country, and saw about a dozen wild turkeys. The corn has all been harvested, and the animals and birds are having a Thanksgiving feast out in the fields.
Life with Kitty is proving to be sometimes hair-raising--both for Kitty, and for her custodians likewise. One night, Hannah had gone to bed, taking Kitty with her. Dorcas, already abed, was freshly asleep. Kitty, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and looking for fun, commenced to pouncing on Hannah’s comforter-covered feet. Hannah held perfectly still for a moment or two, and then, with sudden swiftness, she slid one foot directly under the cat. Kitty, dreadfully startled, hissed loudly and sprang a good 2½ feet in the air, executing a perfect pirouette as she went, and landing with a heavy thump! right on Dorcas’ chest. Dorcas’ eyes flew open to behold a wild-eyed black puma, ears peeled back, staring her in the face from the brief distance of about six inches.
“AAAaaaaaaa!!” howled Dorcas in astonished terror, recoiling in a rapid series of jerks, which in turn frightened Hannah half out of her wits, whereupon she jumped so violently she nearly tumbled off the bed.
Kitty, collecting herself, lay down between the girls with smug satisfaction.
Tuesday evening I practiced again with the orchestra and band. We have only two more practices--and then Thanksgiving will be here. The day after that, Christmas Program practice begins.
Wednesday, Victoria and I went for another looong walk. Hannah hasn’t been feeling well, so she didn’t go…and, when she isn’t along, I walk farther. If Hannah walks too far, she is liable to have trouble with asthma. We walked past a tree, a pin oak, I think, a lovely, perfectly symmetrical tree , that was turning all colors of the rainbow. I pulled a small handful of leaves off of it. They were mostly green, with red, orange, and yellow flowing down into the leaf from the stem, in a swirling pattern. Some were completely maroon, some all yellow, some bright red. I carefully tucked them into Victoria’s hand so she could take them home.
She gazed at them in delight. Then she said, “I know for sure that God really made this tree!”
Wednesday, I finished the articles about our church. I knew that there were many inaccuracies in the articles, and a good plenty of them contradicted each other. I wished for an account that I could trust…and then, finally, on the last page of that section, I found it: a narrative , written by my sister, of all the events that occurred, and which the papers misrepresented so spitefully.
Done with that, I completed Lydia’s dress, and began altering a suit for myself. It’s one somebody gave either Hannah or Dorcas. It was too small for them…so I, as usual, inherited it. But it doesn’t fit my personality. It’s a powder blue nubby knit of some sort, and I highly suspect that somebody’s Great Grandma Riddlesdorf wore it over on the Mayflower. Icky. But maybe if I cinch it up a bit, with those cute little flares at the sides (it has a double-peplum effect), I’ll look utterly too-too--right in style (old is new this year, didn’t I read that somewhere?). But I’ll need some blue suede lace-up boots with humungous black heels to go with it, won’t I? Yi. Aarrgghh.
Bobby, hoping to help Hannah, who has had a bad cold, got her two large jugs of orange juice, on the sides of which he had written in permanent marker, “Hannah’s ONLY!” It didn’t keep people out of it very well…but give us credit… once we drank her juice, we did replace it with more (which we also helped her drink).
Thursday afternoon, Larry, Joseph, Lydia, Caleb, Victoria, and I went to Madison for some vehicle parts. I postponed Jr. Choir until Friday night, when we worked on our Thanksgiving song, Our Best, a song written before 1912. I like verse 2:
Wait not for men to laud, Heed not their slight;
Winning the smile of God brings its delight!
Aiding the good and true ne’er goes unblest,
All that we think or do, be it the best.
Chorus:
Every work for Jesus will be blest,
But He asks from everyone His best.
Our talents may be few, these may be small,
But unto Him is due our best, our all!
For their art class one day, Hester’s class painted wooden yo-yos. One side of Hester’s was done in a blue and red starburst design, and Hester was pleased to see that it changed to purple when it was spinning. She brought it home, wanting me to show her how I could do it. “And tell me the story about it, too!” she requested.
So I did.
When I was in 7th grade, yo-yos were all the rage. I was good at it…we did ‘Around the World’, ‘Walk the Dog’, etc. One day, just before school began, I flung my bright red, wooden yo-yo straight out, preparing to whirl it around my head…and then the string broke. The yo-yo, having been launched at Mach speed, kept on a straight path toward the wall, hit it with a crash, traveled swiftly up it, and then sped across the ceiling for quite a ways before dropping onto a desktop, rolling down, and landing on the floor.
Several of my classmates, teasing me, huddled on the floor, arms crossed protectively over their heads.
The teacher arrived. “What’s all the noise?” he inquired, smiling affectionately at what he termed ‘his favorite class’--and then raising his eyebrows as a few kids collected themselves sheepishly off the floor.
“Sarah did it,” said a boy named Philip, grinning at me. Several others nodded their heads in agreement.
“Shurrrrr,” answered the teacher sarcastically.
Philip shrugged resignedly. “Isn’t that just the way?” he asked the other boys, and they laughed and nodded.
It was true. The teachers never, ever believed I had done the misdeed. They hardly believed me, when I actually admitted it!
The teacher grinned cheerily at us. “Well, if you’re not going to tell…” he waved at our desks. “Be seated, won’t you, gentlemen and ladies?”
Hester’s class organized a birthday party for her teacher, Helen Tucker--it was her 59th birthday. The girls in the class went downstairs on the pretext of getting the jump ropes and balls for recess…the boys went out the door, heading--supposedly--out to the playground. They then headed around to the back of the school, where they came in the back door and went down the stairs to the basement. One of the girls had made a heart-shaped birthday cake with flowers of icing all over it; another brought homemade granola bars--still warm--and there was orange juice and apple cider to drink.
After getting all the balloons and name tags and flowers arranged, one of the girls went to get Helen. As soon as she entered the room, Esther’s sister Ann began playing Happy Birthday, and the children all sang.
I almost have my new arrangement to Come, Ye Thankful People learned. Hope springs eternal--I may get it learnt, yet!
Lawrence and Norma came visiting Friday night, bringing a dress for Victoria that Norma sewed her for Thanksgiving. It is dark green with tiny sunflowers all over it, and the bodice is ivory, with a row of tucks down the front.
The entire day Saturday was spent doing bookwork…and there is a pile of filing that needs to be done, but maybe I can bum that job off on Hannah or somebody.
Teddy got 5 CD-ROMs for $20 at our friend’s gas station…Yukon Trail, Explore Yellowstone, MayaQuest, Africa Trail, and Amazon Trail. The Yellowstone CD has one picture after the other from Yellowstone, and when the binoculars in the corner are clicked on, it brings up a close-up of such things as birds, animals, or flora and fauna. The purpose is to correctly identify whatever is in the picture, and, in so doing, eventually earn a ‘ranger’s badge’. There are innumerable things to do on this disk… It makes me want to go back to Yellowstone National Park, it sho’ ’nuff does!
I received a funny email from one of my friends: Their dryer went kaput, so they got a new one. The first load of clothes was in it…her little boy was downstairs playing…when, suddenly, an unfamiliar buzzer went off. The child called loudly, in his funny low-pitched voice, “Mom!!! The dryer blew up!”
Saturday it was 81o. When I was walking with Victoria; a little breeze came along and blew leaves off the tree we were walking under…leaves of gold, leaves of crimson, leaves of burgundy, potato chip bags of blue…huh? I scurried out from under the tree before I looked up. And sure enough, there was a squirrel, looking down at me quizzically. He’d evidently been having a snack, and then, finishing his chow, he’d dis-carded of the bag--nearly on our heads.
The only trouble with this beautiful Indian summer is that it is actually a drought, and a large percentage of the winter wheat is dying. The ground is hard as a rock, and if it continues, it will affect the state of affairs--planting of crops, that is--next spring.
One of Caleb's little friends got a bit mixed up and called the Harvest Moon a ‘Farmer’s Moon’.
Most all the kids have colds; no less than five of them stayed home from church this morning. Teddy went to work with David, my nephew, for whom Keith works, early Saturday morning--5:30 a.m.--and then, in the early afternoon, Robert, David’s younger brother, had to bring him home, because he had an asthma attack. He had another last night. We were hoping Teddy was ‘growing out of’ asthma, as children sometimes do. Asthma! I don’t like it, not one little bit.
This morning our octet sang What a Day of Glory That Will Be. No wonder that is one of my favorite songs: both words and music were written by Charles Gabriel. If he isn’t my favorite song writer, I can’t imagine who is. It gets more enjoyable to practice with the octet every time I do so, I think.
Now here’s Caleb, sucking in his stomach: “I’m skinny,” he informed his little sister.
Victoria nodded. “Yes, you’re John Wright.” (That’s Bobby’s father, who, at 6’, weighs no more than 180.)
Caleb then stuck his stomach out: “I’m fat.”
Victoria sucked hers in. “Yes, you’re Henry. And I’m Harriet!” (Friends of ours--names changed--who are the reverse version of Jack Sprat and his wife, only exaggerated.)
And now…on with Victoria’s Christmas dress! And on with the piano practicing. Who knows…I may be able to get back to writing on my book before Christmas, rather than after Christmas!
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