a touch of autumn

Snoopy walks across my key board and the light plays through the windows. Tigger, the kitten who shouldn't be, hops, slides, scampers, plops inside full of weather's joy - falling leaves and cool temperatures do seem to turn on kittens. From cross the street comes the grrr...ing of a blower, John Rainwater blowing leaves from off his lawn. Hard to believe someone I like and taught once upon a time bought a house across the street, and soon, December I think, he'll graduate from law school. Time marches, stopping for no one, not even me. Although I sometimes wish it true - stopping time, that is, just for a little while, to savor the moment longer - it's not and never will be until eternity. Enough philosophizing.

Walked outside this morning, stood and stared into the pond's depth, where last I counted only three fish, six swim. From where did they come? They're not babies but at least a finger's length each. One is black, the other two orange with black on their backs. I'll never cease to be amazed that the other three lived through my cruel forgetting to turn of the water till two a.m. and then forgetting the newly added water would need treatment - not until the next morning when they were already sick.

Having viewed the outdoors and touched autumn's door - I now must begin to cut and paste pieces of life into some coherent form.

Enjoying each other and celebrating the uniting of two families at the Dady/Bakke destination wedding. Wish I could figure out how to change this arrangement before posting but . . .

So much to say, so little time to paste away

Luke sits across the table from Michelle and Momma Bakke in the Dominican Republic Punta Cana Airport waiting to fly home after all the wedding celebrations of July 3rd 2008.






Tomorrow I'll try my best to cut and paste the stories I've already written. Now is when I wish I had InDesign on this computer. Even more I wish I had two screens so I could see what I was doing big picture. If wishes were fishes they'd fill the sea. Oh, well, this too will be done and over and I'll be glad to start something else. Or, maybe I'll continue down this road awhile longer. Writing and musing, that is.

Here I sit . . .

Here I sit typing brief thoughts before the onslaught of cooking, entertaining, celebrating. Why do I do what I do? Decide we should cook & decorate for the the after-wedding reception ourselves instead of hire it done? True, Mary Dawn has baked many cupcakes and made the salads and salsa verde, but it still remains for us to finish cooking the meat, the guacamole, the last batch of cake, the icing, the decorating, etc.

I should be grading papers, writing a memoir, answering mail, or should I? Should I not be exactly where I'm at? For it's here God has planted me and it's here I will grow.

Weddings and More

Here it is April 11, 2008! My, does time fly. I am less faithful than I meant to be to entering posts to this blog. Between the prospect of two upcoming weddings and the production of two 'baby' publications, I seem to be 'caught between'!!! Had no idea the implications of that title when I created it. Seth and Becky's wedding is May 17th. Luke and Michelle's July 3rd. Seth proposed right after Christmas when Becky came to visit the Texas crew. Luke proposed while he was in Seattle just before Thanksgiving. Both creatively ask the BIG question and I had lots of fun 'helping' with the plans in one way or another!

Next time I post I'll give a brief story of the first proposal - Luke, Michelle, a favorite restaurant, and a surprise dessert!

My golf - oh, I mean my fisherman son!

So, Luke goes to Dolthan, Alabama to play golf and every spare moment he's fishing! Lewis and Alicia's fishing waters compel him to fish and to teach all his friends the fishing art. Actually, Luke appreciates how his dad taught him how to fish. Now, he passes on the knowledge. I wonder . . . maybe he should become a trophy bass fisherman instead of a golfer. What do you think?

And here's the golfer in Joplin, MO earlier this summer.

One of my favorite pass times watching Luke play his game. "Mama, don't teach your babies to be cowboys"
. . . or golfers for that matter!
Just a warnin' - to be sure -
'Cause you'll hardly see him if you do,
but you'll follow round and round the country wishin' you never had to leave, never had to work, or clean, only wantin' to be seen
followin' around the man, whose passion lies within the scope of green
ribboned strips down which a small white ball soars and lands and soars again until is found a tiny hole in which to fit.
So now, for just a moment 'round me drape the strong arm that sends the ball into its space.