Dreaming of a White Christmas

Winter has finally come to this part of the country. As much as I enjoyed our prolonged Indian Summer, I was invigorated by the sunny, brisk cold that followed. Now we're getting a rare smattering of snow, with promises of more to come. Three snow storms in less than a week. Gotta love this "global warming!"

Most of my Holiday social events were scheduled this week. And, just like the gal's white board calendar gets "opened up" when the guy in the cranberry bog spills juice that washes away Wednesday's notations, the storm fronts are erasing my holiday schedule day by day. I don't know if the white stuff will stick around for Christmas, but one can hope. After all, 'tis the season.

All of you who are looking out your window in hopes of seeing more snow and dreaming of a White Christmas have soul-mates here. I hope that all of your Christmas wishes come true! God bless us every one.

Louisville

You just thought I was never going to post another entry in my blog. You weren't alone. Let me catch up from October...

The National AMWA Conference was in Louisville this year. It was, by far, the best one I've attended. Maybe that was because I had fewer sessions and more time to network. Not to mention that the amazing sky bridges of the Galt House made it so convenient to leave jackets, et al, in my room.

That's not to say that I didn't go outside. Walking is my favorite sightseeing mode, and I ventured out more than once. The Ohio River was less than a block away from our venue, replete with paddle-wheel boats and a floating visitor's center that used to be a rescue vessel. The riverfront was a great place to shake off the lethargy of too much sitting.



Of course, a three-hour time difference made fewer scheduled sessions a wise choice. Listening to someone lecture at my body clock's 6 AM is less than beneficial. Almost as much fun as trying to go to sleep at a corresponding 7 PM. I found that an afternoon power nap helped me manage the time change.

Louisville has a rich and varied history. Home to Ali, "The Greatest," and Colonel Sanders, the city boasts tributes to both. The museum honoring Ali was just across the hotel plaza.

The visitor's center had a life-size wax figure of the Colonel and a pictorial history of his life. I had forgotten that he was past retirement age when he launched the Kentucky Fried Chicken venture. We may have that in common...

The most striking impression I had of this city was that it seemed happily stuck in a by-gone era. The new housing developments visible from the plane window had large lots. The music, even at the local Starbucks, was of an earlier time. Lyrics you could actually understand and lots of jazz.

Speaking of Starbucks, the beverage for which Louisville is most famous isn't coffee (a sad commentary that had this Northwesterner searching for the nearest franchise at the first opportunity). Bourbon-related gifts were everywhere. And our welcome reception featured mint julips —without the stately front porch and lazy summer day. That, along with a tour of Churchill Downs, will have to wait for next time.

Meeting in Person

This weekend I got to meet and hold two-week old Carson, who loves to snuggle. He is a sweet baby, except, of course, when he is hungry and fussy. At 6-11, he is not quite up to his birth weight of 6-15, but close. All of us went on the first walk around the neighborhood with Carson in his stroller. He stayed awake the whole trip.

Bella, who was an "only dog" until Carson arrived, has not quite adjusted to his prominent place in the heirarchy. Until recently, she was the focus of visitors' attention. Bella was happiest near the end of my visit when I picked her up and held her.


Mom and Dad are doing great with Carson. He's a lucky little guy, surrounded by much love and attention.

I well remember what it felt like to become the "matriarch" of the family when the last generation of our family passed on. It has its advantages. Ushering in a new generation is one of them.

Best Buds

Somehow I knew these two would hit it off. Carson and Bella have a great future together!

What A Difference A Week Makes

Carson seemed to enjoy his Mommy's birthday today. At least he was awake for the party.

He's been sunbathing under bili lights this week and hasn't regained his birth weight yet, but he's close.


I'm thinking he looks good in a hoodie, but I am a bit biased.

Carson's Arrival

Carson James Kelly, my great-nephew, made his entry into this world Friday night, October 3, at 11:55 PM, allowing his mother to almost finish a week of school teaching. He came early according to all predictions, perhaps not wanting to wait until his mother had her next birthday. This handsome young man weighed in at 6 lbs, 14 oz, and measured 20.5 inches long.

Welcome to the family, Carson! Can't wait to see you in person!

A Blessed Day

I came home this afternoon to find a voice mail commendation from a stranger for today's “well-written” letter to the editor. His parting words were “God bless you.” God does. This phone message was one of those ways.

The edited letter follows:

Character defines women

Many columnists and so-called feminists focus on a woman’s “right to choose” abortion as being singularly important. But, a woman’s stand on abortion rights does not define her life. Character does.

Michelle Obama has a knack for torpedoing her image as a prospective First Lady reminiscent of Theresa Heinz in the last election cycle. Michelle made headlines with her ill-advised comments at a public appearance.

It does not matter what Michelle thinks about a woman’s “right to choose.” She has proved herself incapable of choosing words wisely or acting prudently.

Contrast that with the graciousness of an accomplished Cindy McCain, and there is “no contest.”

Oh, and did I mention that “cute” Sarah Palin, who has been in the public eye more than a decade and earned a popularity rating of over 80% as Governor of Alaska?

I didn’t think the editors would print it, but they did. And it evidently blessed someone’s life, who blessed mine in return.

As It Turns Out

Labor Day. Whatever this day is meant to be, it didn't turn out like many people planned. Thousands evacuated their homes along the Gulf Coast. The Republicans suspended their convention out of respect for the victims of Gustav. My big projects got put on hold for one reason or another.

So, I watched the progression of the news cycle throughout the day. Gustav waxing and waning. The trials of the political limelight. The ugliness of the left-wing bloggers followed by the Palin family's admissions. Record contributions to relief efforts. Very small polling bumps from all of last week's pomp.

Most noteworthy is that my neighbors' actions balanced each other out today. The scourge of the neighborhood unleashed their dogs on my yard to take care of their "business" again, and I registered a protest because I'm growing weary of their penchant for abusing and terrorizing the neighborhood (In return, I received a veiled threat to burn down my house). Another neighbor I don't even know (who delivers the paper) stopped by to offer to take my dead hot water heater to the dump. I'd planned to make one big haul after I tore out some paneling, but I accepted. What a nice gesture.

Whatever the rest of the week brings, I will remember that a stranger extended an unexpected kindness on this day.

Fifteen Seconds of Fame

The old adage about fifteen minutes of fame, in my case, was only about fifteen seconds. That's the amount of time it took Bill O'Reilly to read my email on his national broadcast last night. Still, it was pretty cool to be 'featured' on the most-watched cable network show.

In case you missed the pithy comment, it was about reaction to the rapper whose song supporting Obama said some disgustingly demeaning things about Hillary, McCain, and Bush.

Bill,
It was Obama’s campaign that condemned the rap song by Ludacris, not Obama. Obama can continue to support the rapper, and later assert that this is not the Ludacris he knew. And that’s ludicrous.

Since 'every dog has his day,' you might try it. And, remember, "name and town, name and town, if you wish to opine... and no bloviating."

Bella Debut

Meet Bella, a Shitsu-Bijon Frise mix puppy. She joined the household of my niece and her husband a few weeks ago. Bella will be joined sometime in October by their first child,
a boy. I suspect that they will become fast friends.

The Dogged Dogwood

The view from my window as I work at my computer is a dogwood tree that has withstood the test of time. By rights this tree should not be alive, let alone looking so good.

Years ago my roommate's blue heeler mix was in the chewing stage of puppyhood when a wind storm filled the back yard with limbs. That the storm happened just before my father's death meant I had higher priorities than removing the limbs. Andy explored like any puppy his age and decided the limbs were the best chew toys ever. When the limbs disappeared from the yard, Andy went in search of living wood and chewed this young tree to a stump. It gave new meaning to "dogwood."

The tree recovered, growing into a nicely shaped tree, if a bit off-center at its base. Decades later, you'd never suspect it had survived such severe pruning.

A few years ago, falling limbs from another windstorm stripped it of most of its upper branches. This time I was sure it wasn't going to survive and do well. But in a couple of seasons it had so many little starts trying to branch back that I asked my bonsai expert friend to come over and see if he could shape it. He did, and today it looks very respectable.

This dogwood stands as a testimony to the resiliency of life. At times we may be reduced to a "stump" and our branches may not look so good, but with time we can stand tall. I'd like to think I'm as dogged in my determination to persevere as this dogwood tree.

What Do You Do?

A close friend betrays a confidence. Not once, but twice. And lies to you about it. Both times.
Your spouse betrays your relationship, and you can't save your marriage.
An elder counsels you with platitudes and then falters when he must walk in your shoes.
You couldn't land a job if your life depended on it, and it does.
The folks in your support group believe the worst about you and tell others the same.

There are times in life when the things that help hold you together give way. When the people you count on aren't to be counted on. When the things that support you don't any longer. When what you believe in becomes implausible. What do you do when the fabric of your life frays?

The answers are not to be found in those whose failings match your own, but in the power and faithfulness of God.

Hope Does Not Disappoint Us

This marks the second week since the company's owner made good on his threat to fire me. Except I got him to sign a letter to the effect that he was laying me off due to restructuring and cutbacks, ensuring my eligibility for unemployment benefits; more importantly, it ensured my good standing for future employment. He tried to make it about a nitpicking typo he searched for two weeks to find, because that is his way. He is a bully, a tyrant emboldened by the 6 or 7 zeros to the left of the decimal point of his net worth, who rules his workers with fear, harassment, and intimidation. The funny thing about bullies is that they back down when their bluff is called. And, this one crumpled completely, getting rattled enough to forget my name. His sideways grin told me he knew that I knew his game and wasn't going to let him get away with it. In the end, he acknowledged my value and admitted that he simply felt I wasn't needed.

I tell you that story only because my coworkers could not understand my attitude. I did not come out of that meeting beaten, which was their expectation. I told them that the owner was not in charge of my life, God was. Whatever lie ahead, God would take care of me.

It took me two days last week, including over four hours on hold, to cut through red tape to sign up for unemployment benefits that will roughly match 40% of my previous paycheck. No job materialized, and with summer-like weather in the forecast, I followed through with plans to spend the weekend at the beach. The ocean has always drawn me closer to God. I think it is the vastness of the horizon and the thundering power of the surf. I find it compelling to walk along the beach and talk with Him.

I met with a house church Sunday morning. The lesson was about bad things happening to good people. Most of the thoughts I had heard before, but God's word has a way of speaking anew.

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." (Rom 5:1-5)

I was struck by the fact that I had reached the hope stage of that progression. Not just a hope that is confident of the life to come, but one that is secure in the todays and tomorrows of my life in Him. And I was thankful for the life experiences that had brought me that far, even though none were pleasant at the time. They helped to make me aware of God's loving presence.

I came home to find that an unexpected check had arrived in the mail while I was gone. It knocked my socks off. God is faithful. Hope does not disappoint us.

A Not-So-Subtle Reminder

Late today I learned that I was to have been fired last Friday, except I was out of town and not at my desk. Why that has not yet happened, I do not know.

It appears that the owner of the company where I am employed as a technical writer learned how much I make, which is far more than he thinks anyone should earn. Top dollar for him comes from his distant past, which is quite a ways back when you consider that he is 84. Recently, he had to take the reins of the company; he ran off his GM by cutting his salary in half. That his GM was his son lends a whole 'nother dimension to the story, but I digress.

Tonight I am thankful that the day began with a longer than usual quiet time, and continued with a persistent awareness of God's presence. The day has been a not-so-subtle reminder that my life and livelihood depend upon God's care— every day, not just in the face of a threat like losing my job. Those times just pull the curtain back and reveal the source of the power that sustains the universe and orders my life and yours... minute by minute. God knew what my day would bring this morning when I talked with Him.

And, I'm certain He has tomorrow figured out, as well.

First and Lasting Impressions

Gruff, distant, unkempt... would likely be your initial impression of Don. And, it might be your lasting impression if you failed to catch the glimmer in his kind eyes that drew you to the heart of the man.

Don could sit in the midst of conversation without saying a word, sometimes listening to his music with headphones. But he made friends with every waitress in the restaurants he frequented. He knew them all by name, and they greeted him with affection each time he came in. And when he was in the mood to talk, sometimes only after he knew you well, it was worth the wait.

Don carried treats for kids and critters alike. He would reach in his pocket for candy to offer a child (from 1 to 92). Squirrels, birds, and other creatures in his backyard— and on any street he regularly walked— became accustomed to seeds, shelled peanuts, and other tasty morsels strewn their way.

Don's eyes lit up most in response to his wife Jeanne. Vivacious, talkative, loving, and gentle, she was the perfect match for him. And she loved him dearly. Their shared laughter could evoke a smile from anyone within earshot. They had the comfortable companionship and commitment that sustains long marriages.

If you only looked on the outside, you'd miss the measure of this or any man. God does not look upon us as the dust he clutched from the earth to breathe into life. He sees the inward man. It is the part of us that is made in His image and grows to be more like Him when God's Spirit is given reign. The lasting impression we will carry of Don comes from the hand of God.

Don valued the things most of us overlook or take for granted.

Don passed from this life yesterday afternoon. But, the story won't end there. Because Don's heart belonged first and foremost to God, and his soul is in God's keeping, where it will be safe for all eternity.