Stoneman Lake

Larry and I went camping this weekend at Stoneman Lake and I saw something I’d never encountered before. During one of my exploration treks around our camping spot, I came upon an elk skin hung over a fallen tree. The skin had obviously been in that same spot for many seasons. I thought about taking it but the coat was mangy and matted. Hunters must have skinned their prey, left it to dry and forgot it. I never saw any bones or other parts of the animal.

But that wasn’t the only noteworthy thing that happened. We had a time of it for sure! Camping with no facilities makes for a true wilderness experience.

During the night I got up to go to the bathroom, but because I was still groggy from sleep, I wasn’t thinking too clearly and when I pulled up my pajama bottoms and they were soaked! Well, now I was embarrassed and wet. I had to rummage around in the dark for a second set of pajama bottoms, luckily I packed an extra pair. While I was outside the tent balancing on one leg ( I find that the older I get the less supple my body becomes) I fell down and scratched my calf on a stick. The resulting three inch scrape burned and made it difficult to sleep comfortably because any material that touched my calf irritated my skin.

While lying awake, I was bothered by a familiar hum-mosquitoes! We had put on bug spray before retiring, but it must have worn off. I didn’t feel like getting up again and spraying outside. I would have sprayed inside, except we had foolishly done so earlier. Who knew that toxic fumes build up if spraying occurs in an enclosed area? The can clearly states the warning. (Every once in a while I feel like all my common sense has deserted me.) So I just hunkered down even further in my sleeping bag and waited for the sunrise.

The joys of the forest have always far outweighed any inconveniences. As usual, I can’t wait to go again!

Irene Higgenbothom

Today marked the end of an era for me as Irene Higgenbothom.

This morning in Grace Place, I played Irene for the last time in "Queen Irene and the Seven or So Hillbillies." Queen Irene finally became a Christian and got her man all in the same morning! Whew! What a run I had for 13 years.

As a member of the writing team/cast of Grace Place, I had the priviledge of working alongside many fine actors/actresses all for the glory of God. But it's time to move on. I will miss the cast and crew and the K-2 kids we ministered to each Sunday.

There will never be another Irene (and there are some of you out there who are quite happy about that!) Can I get an amen?

Dog Woes 2

I have many burning questions about my two dogs, Rusty and Star. Why do my dogs like stinky smells? Whenever I have bad breath my dogs love me even more. Enough said.

Why do my dogs dig in our household trash? We have resorted to blocking off all the rooms in our house when we leave because our precious dogs can't be trusted to stay out of the garbage. The doorknobs on the lower cupboard have a heavy duty rubber band wrapped around them because our dogs try to get at the trash can behind it.

Why do my dogs eat poop? There's no way to understand that one.

And finally, how can I tell which of my dogs ate my two, bright pink, sponge earplugs that were laying on my nightstand this morning and are now missing? Unfortunately, I'm sure the answer will become clear the next time I have poop patrol!

Dog Woes

Star is a very obstinate dog; she's more like a cat really-very independent and stubborn.

To illustrate my point, I was outside in my front yard visiting with my friends, when I happened to look over and see her through the front window perched on the leather recliner. Now mind you, Star is not allowed on the furniture. In my brilliance, (which will be disproved shortly), I thought I could scare her enough to jump down off the chair. I charged full speed at my front window, of course the thorny bush planted in front of it, stopped me cold. Star didn't budge. Star didn't flinch. Star is obstinate.

Thinking if I could just get closer, I could scare her off, I proceeded to circumvent the thorny bush and instead tripped on the main water valve and knocked it loose. Being made of 20-year-old brittle PVC pipe, you can probably predict what happened next. The water spray was pretty forceful and for ½ second I considered running the other way, but I didn't. I couldn't. I made this mess; I was going to have to face the cold, wet consequences. First I turned the main valve all the way off, but the water continued to spray me. Then I thought, "I must have turned the wrong valve," so I played around with the garden spigot, that didn't work either. I went back to the main valve-that had to be the right one. There was no other choice. This time, I turned the offending valve the correct way and the water finally subsided. Shamefully, I turned back around toward my friends. What a sight I was! I was totally saturated, my hair all the way down to my shoes received a thorough soaking.

I slunk inside to change, I didn't even bother to put on real clothes, I just threw my wet things in the sink, slicked my hair back and came out in my bathrobe. You know you have dear, precious friends when you can finish your visit in your bathrobe.

Star is a very obstinate dog. Oh, I forgot to mention when this all happened-Friday the 13^th.

Bow Tree

As a child, I truly knew Christmas was coming because my grandparent's bow tree would be sitting in all its magnificent glory on the hall credenza. It glistened with every color of the season, plus a few metallic beauties that put the other more ordinary bows to shame.

Once upon a time, they had a real tree, I know because I appeared in chilhood photos next to it. But I personally don't remember any such animal. My recollection is only of the fabulous bow tree.

After my grandparents passed on, there was some question between my three sisters and I about who would inherit the bow tree. Granted, it had lost some of its luster over the years and it's true that it wasn't quite as shiny as it once was. Still for me, the oldest grandchild, it could never belong to anyone else.

For many years now, during the Christmas holiday, the bow tree has held a place of honor on my kitchen table, much to the dismay of my family and friends who asked that it be moved during dinner. I can't blame them, the tree is two feet tall and ten inches around, not including the bows.

This year I decided to redo the whole tree. Thirty plus years had left it faded and frayed and flat. I assumed that two hours would be enough to finish the whole job. Wrong! Six hours later, I finally finished. My ends of my fingers were numb and sore from all the wire twisting and poking and prodding I had to do to put the new bows into place. But it's finished and it looks great!

From now on, the bow tree will be stored right side up, and with a strong protective dust cover. I need this current tree to last for another thirty years. After all, maybe someday the fabulous, magnificent, glittering bow tree will be passed on to the next generation.

Revolutionary Journey

When I was 17, I had the remarkable opportunity to travel to Washington D.C. with my high school. But I didn’t fully appreciate the experience; I was too young and immature. In fact, I clearly remember refusing to look at the White House as our tour bus traveled by because I was mad at someone on the bus. My small-mindedness cost me a magnificent memory and my supposed adversary never even knew I was angry.

Later when I was 32, the Declaration of Independence came to Phoenix on exhibit, but I still didn’t fully grasp its important historical significance. I was growing closer, but still not grown up. What a gloomy commentary.

Now at 45, visiting the Independence Hall replica at Knott’s Berry Farm feels like a reawakening of missed adolescent knowledge I could have fully entered in to. I experienced a deep sense of pride in our country and the astounding men and women who made it all possible.

My favorite part of the “Revolutionary Journey” has been reading Johnny Tremain. Esther Forbes’ novel grabbed me and captured my attention and made me feel as though I was really part of Massachusetts history. Abigail Adams letters were a fascinating glimpse into a marriage filled with sacrifice and forward thinking. She was a remarkable woman. Thomas Jefferson was an inspired writer and thinker, a true patriot. Though the original words of the declaration were edited time and again, I’m sure his flavor still shines through. The movies “Johnny Tremain” and “1776” were a fun visual stroll into the past. Finally, I agree with Firesign Theatre’s statement, "Benjamin Franklin....the only President of the United States who was never President of the United States."

The “Revolutionary Journey” has been a tremendous life affirming rite of passage for me. I’m able to appreciate our great country and the incredible sacrifice of those brave men and women who couldn’t know me but have shaped my future. I am so geared up to delve into the Civil War.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Slapstick is funny because most of us like to laugh at the absurdity of everyday mishaps-not malicious laughter, just good ol' guffaws. If the following account of my wardrobe malfunction gives you a chuckle, then I'm pleased.

Today I wore a comfortable pair of side zip capris to work. (First wrong move.) Side zip clothing is always a mistake. A mistake I find myself making far too often. I suppose I continue to err in this way because I like the slimming long line I achieve when wearing side zip clothing. But I digress-

After using the restroom at 10:30 this morning, I found that I could not pull my side zipper back up all the way. Nylon zippers are notorious for broken teeth and mutiple snags, not to mention difficult to maneuver because of the side position. I determined to pull harder. (Second wrong move.) The zipper pull came off in my hand! Now I have a zipper half-closed and no way to repair it. Fortunately, I was also wearing a vest that covered most of the offending clothing.

Realizing I had to return to the classroom posthaste, I tried not to think about how the 7th and 8th graders I work with might notice my condition. Everything was going fine until lunchtime. That's when I grasped the fact that I could not use the restroom for the rest of the day!

After work, I went to the library to return a book so that it wouldn't be counted as overdue. (Third wrong move.) It was too long since my last bathroom stop. As I rushed inside my house, I grabbed a pair of scissors from the desktop, intending to cut myself free of the offending clothing! The dogs were whining and scratching at the door because they like to be fed immediately upon my return home from work. The phone was ringing and now I have half a pair of capris!

Before today, I had originally intended to wear my other pair of side zip capris tomorrow-I've changed my mind.