This spring (well, I like to pretend it's spring here...or maybe I think I'm still in school and it's "spring" semester...), Eddy and I have not been commuting back and forth from Minnesota, as we had the previous three years.  This has both pros and cons.  One sad thing is that Daniel is still commuting (only 3 days a week, thank goodness!).  I really miss him.  And I'm still trying to iron out the upheaval his coming and going does to Eddy's and my household life.  However, there are plenty of pros, as well.

On top of only one pantry and fridge to stock, only one meal schedule to plan, and only one house to organize and clean, there are also the people!  I am trying hard not to outdo my time, and I may be on the busy side, but it is oh, so rich right now.

My friendships with high schoolers at our church have not only continued, but become deeper and more meaningful.  What an important time of life, and -- I'm not ashamed to say -- an amazing group of girls!  I don't know about you, but I certainly didn't finish a full-length fantasy novel by age 15, act in plays and musicals professionally, create hundreds of paintings well enough to be sold, or make extensive plans for my life in my first couple years of high school!

We have also joined a couples small group, and the women's Bible study to which I belong always continues to be spiritual, deep, and convicting.  The diverse group of high school leaders I've met are both interesting and so inspirational, and the babysitters that have popped up are turning into out-of-nowhere family friends.  I'm learning through these people.  I'm serving these people.  I get to love them, and be accepted.  I don't know what the future holds for our little family, but right at this moment I can say that I have a whole bunch of flesh-and-blood friends.  I feel "in" for the first time in a long time.

When I have my priorities straight with family, and find my source of happiness in God, people suddenly become a lot brighter and more enjoyable.  Thank you, God.

Every year Dan and I are running full speed in lawn care by March, every year we spend our summer weekdays an hour away from our hometown to run the business.  Every year we come back some time in October and start to patch things up with our friends and get involved with church again.  It's a schedule I've become used to.  I don't panic anymore in the rush of things, but remember it'll pass, and it always does.  But there is always pain involved.

Today I was feeling it a little more than usual, until an unexpected visitor walked right through my anxieties, and let me know I wasn't alone.

Jeanne is much older than me, Dan's mom's friend, in fact.  But she's always been a nearby neighbor and friend to the Hobbs, as far as I can remember, and she feels right at home here.  And ever since I moved in, I've benefited from their relationship.  For Jeanne's heart never strays from a person, even if it's been a long time.  She'll pop in and start a conversation on politics or kids or family or schedules just as easy as pie, with no awkwardness or catching up needed.  Today it was as if I had never left, which is what I needed.

I think I'll take a lesson from this openhearted friend, and take her up on her invitation to "Come to our house any time of day."  After all, she's just first right and a left and you're there.

Thanks, Jeanne.

Harvests.  Fairs.  Core aerations.  Visits.  Visitors.  Farmer's markets.  School kids.  Allergies.  Sweaters.  Walks.  Grill outs.  Canning.  Bonfires.  College students.

This is my fall.  One thing falls onto another, pushing yet another back later.  Fun events crowd for importance until I can't remember the last time I cleaned.  Mass vegetable processing is a weekly ritual.  Winter is coming.  I can feel it in my bones.  You can smell the anticipation of rest in the cold wind around our house.  The last services of the season.  Only a few weeks to go. I try to keep my mind in active motion, instead of falling into the fog of suspense.  Here we go.

Music concerts are everywhere.  I was delighted to see a friend, Aaron Spina on his guitar at the farmer's market last month.  Kudos to a town that appreciates local talent.  I've also had many pleasant hellos with long lost acquaintances at the farmer's market.  And the art booths are always worth studying.  Eddy mostly enjoys the free samples and homemade treats.

The Minnesota State Fair is a long time tradition in my family.  I'm very proud of it.  Both my parents grew up in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area, and both went to the fair as kids.  My dad, in a large family on a dairy farm, showed cows and projects with his siblings every year, and set aside the whole week and a half for the fair every year.  My mom, a more recreational fairgoer, tells all about what the fair looked like when she was young.  What it was, how it's changed, and those few booths that have stood the test of time.  Dan, Eddy and I took an evening to visit the fair this year.  We can't lose with tradition.  We always make a point to spend as little money as possible, while enjoying the fair to the fullest.  A $1 never-ending glass of milk from the milk barn, a ride with Eddy down the giant slide, and all else is animals, giant pumpkins, tractors, and people.  It does help to bring tasty snacks along to ward off the mouth watering but overpriced fair delicacies all around.  But just the sight of sky and lights and people at dusk is enough to make us happy.

My vegetables keep producing.  When I'm done here I am off to check the ripeness of the cantaloupes and watermelons.  I'll see if there is still more zucchini.  I've done enough blackberry trimming.  Now to see if I have a crop.  I think some potatoes can be dug as well.  There will be more chopping and boiling and freezing and drying today.  Oh, for a commercial grade dehydrator!

The day after the fair, Eddy and I prepared our house for two extra kids, then traveled to Rochester to see Aunty Lindsey's new house and to pick up the beloved cousins, Emma and Elie.  They greeted us with squeals and hugs and toys and tours, and we all ate together.  They rode home with us to arrive already past bedtime.  Personally I think everyone was too excited for their own good, and would've prevented some hurt feelings if they had relaxed a bit, but, what else do kids do?  I still smile when I think of Eddy's reaction to the two extra beds in his room for the 2 nights.  His head popped off his pillow like a spring every 5 seconds.  He didn't want to miss a bit of fun.  All day and the next, we crafted and cooked and gardened and swung and walked and watched movies and tricycled and scootered and bathed until I wore the kids out silly, as they did to me.  The party moved to Eau Claire where we met their mother for another 2-day round.  Then home and to bed for everyone.

There's a cold wind in the air every day.  Sweatshirts and fleeces are required everywhere, in and out, especially in the mornings.  My slippers and I are enjoying our reunion.  Our church is preparing for all the grade-switching and huge swell of attendance during the first week of school for college and grade schools alike.  This is my fall.

Last night I got to spend two hours with thirty of the greatest people at our church -- the high school group.  Thanks to a precocious ten-year-old, a laid back mom, and a convicting message on Sunday (let's not get into the why), I got to attend a high school group hosted by the pastor's wife, at their house south of town.  High schoolers can be some of the greatest people around, full of dreams and motivation and issues, and ready to take on life.  I really identify with them, and I really wanted to get to know some of them more, maybe I'd even get to help them out in some way.  Unfortunately my schedule doesn't exactly lend itself well to being a small group leader.  But for one night only, I got my chance.

I recognized a couple of the girls in the Berthiaume's backyard when I arrived.  But mostly I was nervous and didn't know how to approach anyone.  Thankfully I wasn't the only "old person" there, and since everyone started out by having to paint letters on their faces, the ice melted quickly.  Next came games.  The theme: FEAR-FACTOR.  I think I was the youngest old person there last night, and I was shocked at the yellow-bellied nature of the other leaders!  Thankfully, they said it was all right for me to jump in with the high schoolers (who, I found out, weren't much better -- I guess it's not an age thing after all).  Everyone got slimed with egg, tasted dog food, got splattered with jello and whipped cream from a bug digging race, and a lucky few even got to bob through red water for pig's feet!  I considered it a privilege to get to do something with this group of people who are usually pretty sectioned off (and yes, I bobbed for pig's feet).

After games there was a short message on fear and super-small group time to pray for each other.  This was my favorite part.  I got to know the four girls in my circle better in those five minutes than in the previous five months of casual conversations after church.  Plus I was able to rest some fears of unknowns about college for them and got to pray with them.

During the service on Sunday, we were told that you can never be too old to reach out to teenagers.  May I add that you can't be too young either?  If high schools set seniors up to help freshmen coming in, certainly no high school graduate should feel ill-equipped to talk to them.  You've been there and made it through.  That's big.

Thanks, high schoolers, for befriending me, and teaching me a lesson on life.  Hopefully I'll see you again soon.

I don't know anyone who doesn't have a creative streak.  It is one thing I can somehow find in common with everyone I talk to, though sometimes they don't think so at first =)

Yesterday I had a coffee date with a friend at the McDonald's playplace to catch up.  We have completely different jobs, different family and in-law situations, we are both married, but we have completely different ideas about kids and adventure, and several other things.  But she is a great, compassionate girl that I admire a lot and really appreciate having as a friend (even with all our differences).

She asked me how I was doing, and, in typical Nomie style I talked nonstop for the next 5 minutes.  I told her about the family and work, then went into all the exciting (but not always longlived) crazy plans and ideas I had of things to create -- from painting to woodworking to music to words, etc. Then I asked her what she was doing for fun.  She answered, "Reading."

I love to read, too, but I knew there was more that made her grin than other people's masterpieces.  A few minutes later I found it.  She was talking about their spare room, and she mentioned it was the last one to decorate, then she'd be done with the house.  She was relishing in the idea of choosing the style and decorations, and moving other items from elsewhere into that room.  She was actually sad to be done with the house, "All I'll have to do after this is redecorate.  That's not nearly as fun to think about."

So, the master creator came out at last.  And that's only in the visual sense.  We didn't even get to all the heart transforming conversations, lessons, small group plans, music schedules, and events she plans for the highschoolers!  Now that's something I've never done!

God created us all to be an image of him.  Did you think he'd leave out the creativity aspect in that? Hardly! Celebrate the creator in you, and share God's beauty =D

I met with my friend Connie yesterday.  Every couple weeks my two former Bible study leaders, Connie & Bonnie, and I go walking together and talk about life.  This week Bonnie couldn't make it and Connie didn't feel like walking, so the two of us just sat on her beautiful porch and conversed.

Connie is about twice my age, has grown children and grandchildren, is a skilled flower gardener, and loves birds. (she's even gotten hummingbirds to sit on her finger!)  And the mystery of her godly legacy and journey continues to unfold every time we meet.  (For example, this week I learned she used to be part of a clown ministry and still keeps her homemade 5-foot long Q-tip in her basement for sentimental reasons!)  I feel privileged to spend time with her.  Though I am blessed to have very insightful and gracious parents and in-laws, there's something special about a relationship unbent by biases or relational complications, an outsider who can see clearly in.

We talked of everything from birdhouses to weddings to sickness to God's ultimate plan for the world, and how faith fits into to it all.  We sat there for three hours just talking.  I was astounded when I saw the time, and thankful for this woman who would take out that time for me.

I have a lot of things to think through today, and some steps to take =)

"And so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled." -Titus 2:4-5

This weekend has been very full for me, too full to fit in one post without this blog turning into a chronological journal of events (which I am determined to keep it from being).  Not all information is necessary.  So today, I will dwell on the beauty of Friday night: a crazy outlandish night for me.

The many fun, small town Afton activities had ended with Cathy and me putting Eddy to bed and wishing him well.  It was late, nearly 10 o'clock in fact, and he had a long day.  As he drifted to sleep and Cathy settled down to do some reading, my adrenaline increased as I quickly washed my hair, picked out clothes, and tried to reach Alyssa on the phone via Skype.  I hoped she wouldn't get lost trying to find our house.  In a last desperate attempt I drove up on the hill to get cell phone reception.  Yes!  She answered.  Just crossing the bridge.  Perfect.  I gave the remaining directions to our house, and rushed back home to finish packing all the "just in case" items for this unfamiliar event.  Headlights shone in the drive and I ran and jumped in the van.

"Go up here and turn right, it's shorter.  Thanks for doing this, Alyssa, especially for someone you've only met once."  "No problem!  I'm excited to let you experience this for the first time!  It'll be great."

Conversation opened and deepened as the 35 minute drive rolled on.  Why hadn't I gotten to know this girl earlier?  She was sweet, and interesting, and involved in the same endeavors I am or have been.  She was friends with my friends, goes to my church, she's my age, and loves music and language.  And yet I never had the gumption to venture a conversation for the sole reason of not having done so before.  Now was my chance.  I would make a connection, and I did.

The city here we come!  All the fear and vulnerability I had about a strange city late at night had, as I hoped, been abated by joining someone else familiar with the scene.  A parking garage, a downtown walk among clubbers, and then, there it was.... "dakota".  The cursive blue neon stood out against the shaded intersection, and the door was bustling with comers and goers.  If you, dear reader, have never experienced a "cover charge" before, I beg you to do so.  It is terribly exciting, though expensive.

Reunion with musician friends, and new meetings with a circle of friends I'd never put together in my mind.  Beverages and tables, introductions and fun stories fill the room with noise until a jovial voice transcends them all.  My friend John Raymond stands at the microphone holding a trumpet, with dress pants, untucked white dress shirt, and skinny black tie. He stands in front of four other casual young men on a mini grand piano, a bass, full drum set, and saxophone.  Twenty-five minutes to midnight the music begins.

The mood sets in as the pure sounds of emotion fill the air.  Fingers and toes of the listeners tap in response to the smooth tones.  Free jazz melts into classics of John Coltrane, Miles Davis and others, but mostly John's newly written masterpieces reign over the ensemble of perfectly cooperating instruments.  All play together in harmony until, who knows how, you hear the trumpet above the rest.  He displays a wide range of scales and jumps filled with emotion and skill as every tone quality possible to the trumpet is heard.  Fluid and free, yet somehow in sync with the rhythm, the musical story unfolds, getting more and more exciting until the trumpet solo comes to a climax and ends.  A large applause overlaps the others playing on, and John walks to the side.  Next, as before, all play together until Alyssa's boyfriend on the saxophone transcends.  More applause, and so goes the song, each dominating in a magnificent solo, and each introducing his fellow musician, piano, bass, then drums, tell each their own full story in all its spontaneity and craft. A full band finale of the original theme concludes the piece to the exhilaration of the audience.

Every so often John introduces each player in appreciation for their individual skill, and describes the titles and motives of each song, including "Dani's theme" in honor of his beautiful new wife of three weeks sitting front and center.

As I sat swallowing the awkwardness of knowing no one there very well, I looked around the room.  Couples young and old filled the booths around the perimeter, and women in full jazz attire of long wavy locks, full makeup and seductive, formfitting dresses and jewelry spotted the tables.  Men with ruffled hair and casual dress clothes joined them, as well as the many college students in jeans, supporting their graduated friends on stage.  Alcohol was abundant, but only made everyone mellower rather than rowdy.  It was just the way I pictured a jazz club to be, how I'd seen it in the movies.  A very large chalkboard covered half of one wall with huge letters advertising tonight's and upcoming guest performers, and there was a mezzanine with more tables, surrounding the whole room.

Nearly 2am now, as we each hug goodbye to those we know, and are off.  Another 35 minute drive and conversation continues to gain interest.  But we're both exhausted.  "See you tomorrow at the wedding!"  "Yep, get some sleep."

I slink into the silent house still swimming in the sounds in my head.  Too tired to be anxious about anything, I swoon to the imaginary music, fold some laundry, and collapse into bed at 3am. "I hope Eddy sleeps in."

A week after returning home from Mayo Clinic and from oh so many cancer treatments we'd never have dreamed of when they got married.  Ten months after hundreds of friends and family started praying for him.  One year after he married the love of his life.  God has chosen to take my good friend Kyle home.  I don't understand why.  I can't believe it's true.  I feel the pain of my very close friend Abi, his wife, in her devastation.  

Dinner for volunteers.  My church started doing this.  We have a Satur-evening service.  The Sunday school workers don't come.  Food makes them come.  The dinners are good.  They have dessert, too.  It helps me and Eddy.  I say I'll fill in.  No time to make food.  We eat after church.  We talk to church friends.  It's a good time. Here's to the effort: dinner for volunteers!  Hooray for you; hooray for my church.  Hooray for the kids who fill it.

I lose things way too easily!  I lose everything from clothing to money, food, receipts, appliances...anything mobile really.

A couple weeks ago I went to a grill out / campfire party at Julie's house and lost the keys to my car.  It got dark  long before we left, so several friends and I had to search through the grass with flashlights under logs, around the fire, under blankets, chairs, the hammock, in the house, in the windows of the locked car, and everywhere else we could think of.  In desperation I called Dan, and got the spare key!  Hooray!  I could go home.  I looked everywhere in the car, thinking I'd locked the key in.  Nope.  Julie agreed to keep her eye out for it when daylight came, so Eddy & I went home.

The day past, the weekend past, but no key.  I asked Julie every time I saw her, with no avail.  I kept an eagle's eye on the spare key, which I took to Afton that week and the next and now used as the main key.  Without key chain or unlock button to aid me in hauling Eddy, I became even more frustrated with my carelessness.  Were the keys lost forever?  No one at the party seemed the type to steal something to be mean, but could they have taken them by mistake?  I checked Eddy's diaper bag, my purse and the car over and over, still with no success.

I finally gave up.  When preparing to come back to Eau Claire this weekend, I decided to go the extra mile and clean out Eddy's old water bottle--long residing in his diaper bag side pocket--so he could use it again.  As I lifted it from its spot I breathed a sigh of consternation and relief, and ran to show Dan...what else? The keys!  I had put them in a safe spot to begin with.  They were never out of my reach, and never locked in the car.  It is so refreshing to have a spare again for emergencies, and to pop Eddy in and out safely and keep the car locked.  Now, if only I could find my hat...

Anyone who knows my family's business knows that we are busy this time of year.  The stress over the last month has taken its toll on me, my husband, and my son, exhausting our strength physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Our relationships have become more distant and more difficult.  It was in this vein that Eddy and I went to church on Sunday morning.  Daniel was way behind in his work for the week, and had to miss church to finish treating a cemetery in Eau Claire.  

I checked Eddy in to Sunday school and wandered back through the halls, scanning the crowds for someone I knew.  I spotted a couple familiar faces, all engaged in deep conversations already. 'I guess I'll just find a seat.' Meandering slowly across the foyer, through an auditorium door, down an aisle, I noticed the second row in the center. Empty. Perfect. There was a pit in my stomach as I sat down. Soon others sat around me. Oh, well. The music started.  In turn, I joined in singing, greeted strangers around me, prayed aloud and silently, and sat to hear announcements, then the pastor's message.  It was good.  It seemed important. But it wouldn't sink in.  I couldn't make myself believe it in my heart, though I wanted to.  Halfway through the message, it began to compute -- living a life bigger than myself, not hoarding things I desire, but focusing on God, and thereby receiving all the blessings he would like to show me.  I thought of beautiful nature, of relationships, of new friends, of my church, of my nice house, my family, our business successes, of the cross, and other things.  But it didn't make me feel better.  I didn't feel blessed.   I felt confused, foggy, alone, weak.  At the closing music I was lost in my thoughts and out of touch with those around me.  I caught myself missing the offering bag completely, as the usher had to reach around me to hand it to another person, oops.  I closed my eyes.  The service ended.

I sat contemplating.  I waited for my Bible study leader to finish a conversation before she could talk to me about a group walk we had scheduled.  Looking around the emptying room I spotted a friend. She looked sad.  She walked toward me.  She was looking for a pastor to talk to.  She told me her troubles, her desires, her life situation.  I told her mine.  For her this was an important week.  For me it was, too.  We were at a loss for what to do, feeling the same, but under very different burdens.  A hug, a Scripture, questions, and suggestions finished our conversation.  We exchanged numbers and went to speak with our respective respected teachers.

We agreed to speak on the phone every day this week.  On Monday the first call time arrived.  We shared the help we received from our leaders.  We rejoiced in it, and prayed together.  Tuesday we shared our encouragements and insights, our struggles and prayer requests.  Wednesday we were both in a fog, and prayed to God, praising him for his goodness, and reminding each other of his love.  Thursday's call is fast approaching.  I wait for my few minutes with my friend, my connection with Eau Claire, my call to live the bigger life, to be a help and ask for help...to live beyond myself.

Five of us from BioLawn (Dan the boss / Charlie the sales & tech / Gayle the secretary / Naomi the finacier / Eddy the mascot) drove to St. Paul Park for a visitation and memorial service today.  It was packed.  We were the only ones there who knew no one else there (except one of Ken's sons we'd met once and another ex-BioLawn employee who knew Ken came as well).  Sisters and brothers and parents and aunts and uncles and cousins and college friends and rehab friends and childhood friends and all their spouses and children and friends were there.  The service itself was all right.  A few people stood and talked about their friendships with Ken (including our Charlie -- thank you). No family stood up.  The sermon was good -- really close to being a good Christian message. A very good practical message to Ken's loved ones.  We found out much deeper about Ken's addiction-riddled history while we were there.  Apparently there are still hurt feelings.  The deacon spoke on forgiveness.  Jesus forgave quickly and readily.  We should too.  The rest of the service was lame but we got through it.  The whole event was very awkward.  But it was nice to see the crowds of people who loved Ken, and whom Ken loved -- his legacy, so to speak.  They banded together and cried together (Ken's mother hugged and cried with Dan / Ken's sister hugged and told us Ken really really really loved us / Ken's aunt said what a drastic positive change Ken's life took when he started working for us and making "those new friends" who were only us).  Apparently we didn't know the same Ken the rest of them knew -- the Ken with issues he could never seem to get over...until last year.  But it was still good to see the dozens and dozens of people who knew the same guy we knew.  Because he was the same guy -- just in different seasons of his life.  We got to see him on the top (which makes Daniel OH so much sadder), happy, confident, gaining success in his relationships. But everyone saw his compassion, his love for children, especially his own, his humility, his openness, and his hard work ethic: things we cherished.  This huge crowd of people love and miss him like we do.  It was good to hug his sisters and get to know them a little bit.  I wish we could've gone to the dinner afterward to be more relaxed with his family, but perhaps I'll stop by again in a couple days and see how they are doing.  Ken is the invisible bond that brings all these people together in love and tears and hugs.  Loved ones make it worth it.

But it was still an exhausting day.

I've been hesitating to write anything here since the tragedy at work Monday. Covering up Ken's memory with other things really scared me...since that's all we still have of him.  It's been a hard and strange week. Eddy has become so familiar with Dan's and my moods that every time he sees us sad, or crying, or quiet, he asks, "You sad 'cuz Ken went away?"  I hope the funeral, this Monday, helps how we feel. At least we'll get to know Ken's family better, and hear some new things about him, and be allowed to converse openly about how we all miss him so much.  Dan has had a worse time than I have, because he was so close to Ken, and especially because he had to finish Ken's route from Monday, he had to redistribute Ken's scheduled jobs, and he had to find (gulp) a replacement. Then he had to work an extra day to catch up on everything.

For me this week has been a stirring of emotions and thoughts.  Disbelief, denial, anger, despair, confusion, and searching have all played their parts in the story of my thoughts, a story that has gradually changed through the hours. I sometimes fight recovery in fear of forgetting, but I know God is in the recovery, and I can trust him.  I've come to some conclusions in my mind, which I hope to act upon: Though Ken's time is through, my life is still going, and to not continue in life would be to deny God's will for me.  Everyone lives for a short time and dies; in the span of history it's not whether you died that shapes your story, but what you did while you lived.  We could have our own memorial service to speak openly about our friend, draw our attention to our mortality, and to God. And we should take our employees up on their invitations to dinner and such -- something we should've done with Ken and his boys, then it wouldn't have been so awkward now.

Life...goes...on...and each day we change.

This note is in memory of our best employee and a very close friend: Kenny.  Wow, it...feels strange writing this, considering we spoke to him this morning, and he was doing great. Kenny has always been a devoted worker and learner, so naturally he's gotten steadily better and better at his job since he started.  He loved his job, and we loved having him.  He always came into the office in the morning with a big smile and determination for excellence -- but never at the expense of sincerity, openness, and kindness to us as well. True kindness, politeness, genuine care, and gentleness. We could see he was a great dad (single dad) to his 3 teen age boys, who reflect his character.  Even though Kenny had an incredibly difficult and regrettable history, somehow he never let it get to him.  He dealt with things head on and kept moving forward. I am really going to miss him. Unbeknown to each other, Daniel and I spent much of this afternoon crying.

Kenny conquered so many things: alcoholism, drug addiction, bad relationships, single parent difficulties, poverty, depression...  and things were looking up. His whole family testifies to "having him back" the last year and a half, and he was so happy to be "back"...back with his sons, with his siblings, with his ailing mother, with those he loved more than anyone else in the world. I remember the thing he loved doing most was spending time with his boys.  He'd schedule work off or move extra fast to finish a route early so he could go to a son's game.  He'd bring a son to work on a non-route day to see what dad did for a living and give 'em a taste of work. He was so proud of them...and they were proud of him, too.

By now I'm sure you're wondering what happened.  Well, there's really not much to tell.  Kenny was doing very well on his route today, amazing Dan with his speed and accuracy, as he had for the last week.  In fact, Dan just gave him another raise a couple days ago for it.  Right after lunch he fell over, someone called the police, who called our office. An ambulance rushed him to the hospital but he was unresponsive. They called us back to pronounce him officially gone.  That was it, so strange, so sudden, so seemingly untimely. It doesn't sink in. My mind rejects the thought.

Tonight Dan, Eddy and I drove to Kenny's house to return his car.  There were lots of family members there, all with tears in their eyes and all loving and comforting each other. They welcomed us warmly and reiterated over and over how much Ken loved his job, and how much he revived his life since he started working for us.  We shared some things we loved about Kenny, and assured them we'd be happy to do anything for them, if they needed anything. We await the funeral.  Even Eddy, as little as he comprehends the subject of death, was sad to hear that Kenny had gone away and wouldn't return. He loved Kenny as much as anyone did, and asked about him over and over on the way to his house. One of Ken's son's gave Eddy a little toy car and we wrote "Kenny" on the hood in memory.

I'm submitting a page from our company newsletter from last June.  It includes an article about Kenny. Enjoy.

Okay, so I borrowed this awesomely cool cookie dough scooper (kinda like one of those squeezable ice cream scoopers...only tiny) from a friend during my huge cookie project in February.  It worked like a charm -- I just had to show Dan how cool it was.  So, when we celebrated my birthday a few days later, what did Dan get me, but a cookie dough scooper!  Boy, was I surprised!

Of course it was the wrong size and he got it way over in Minneapolis, so it took until last week to exchange it...which brings me to my story.

I just got a perfect cookie scooper from Dan AND made my first batch of chocolate chip cookies in our new house!  I stayed up late into the night to make them.  I was astonished -- we had every ingredient we needed at the house except white sugar and baking soda.  Brown sugar substitutes well, but Eddy and I had a fun adventure asking one of our new neighbors for the baking soda, which they were happy to lend =)

It was a success.  The best chocolate chip cookies we ever tasted.  Check out the pictures. P.S. Please excuse the fuzzy phone pictures.  I couldn't find the camera at the time.

God became flesh and dwelt among us.  He died, but rose and conquered death for us.  We have hope.  Hope of new life. Hope of life everlasting!  Hope of a body restored and healed.  Hope.  True hope.

A declining cancer patient puts meaning to those words...though the tears still come...

Hope.

I found a good babysitter.  What a relief that is!  Eddy sat down and started playing with his new friends, the two daughters of his babysitter. He had to show them his cool car set.  They loved it.  I chatted with the mom for a few minutes, then said goodbye to Eddy and asked for a hug. He gave it gladly, then turned back to his toy and waved me off with a low mumbled "bye, mom."  A normal family.  A sigh of relief comes over me as I let go of the stress of finding someone.  After much searching, prayer, references, and getting to know them, my work has paid off.  I have someone to lean on.

In a new town with no connections, this is an amazing thing.

Last night Dan, Eddy and I had the pleasure of going to a birthday party at Olive Garden for a friend. It was a jolly time of getting to know acquaintances, sharing love, laughing, and gobbling down food as fast as everyone could (especially bread sticks -- Benny currently holds the record on those with 9). The birthday girl was amazed that so many people would come to her birthday party, and we were honored to be of service =) We didn't know anyone too well, but mixing and making new connections was part of the fun. Plus, it was great letting Eddy meet more of the people we know (unlike Bible study, when he has to stay home with a babysitter). There are so many cool people all around us. Birthday parties are one way to get to know them...a yummy way =)

I mentioned before that I went to a small women's retreat last weekend. Now that I've recovered somewhat from the busy week, I'd like to reflect on it a little more.

Before last week I had never been to a women's retreat, and wasn't really sure what to expect. It was great. I didn't know many of the women there, but everyone bonded quickly, because the two days were filled with so much heartfelt Bible study, prayer for each other, impromptu singing, working and playing together, sleeping together, opening up, and heart and life changes.  Every person there gave testimony of how deeply she was affected by our time. I'm tempted to lay out the entire retreat happenings here, but the simple truth is this: God was there, he gave the weekend power, and led it. So it wasn't anything in particular we did that made our weekend a success, we just basked in His love for us. God loves us! Demonstrated by his personal sacrifice for us, his plan for us, his word to us, and his comfort and leading within us. This was one common thread in each of our experiences.

Of course the weekend had a wonderful backdrop to make it especially lovely. It was located at a large, beautifully renovated and landscaped Victorian-style house on a large farm, complete with fields, trees, and horses. Linda, the host, is a professional cook, and lavished us with all sorts of gourmet delicacies. We also experienced the nearby small town of Sand Creek, which is very historic and friendly.

It was all around revolutionary. I encourage any of you women who are interested in energy, peace, and deep camaraderie, have a women's retreat! And center it on God. It's amazing how he shows his goodness to us, if we plan some time with him...

Yeah, I had a long week. Studying and working cut off much of my sleep, then the events began. Thursday music practice, Friday getting the house clean and making food for my dad, husband and son, and off to Linda's for the retreat. Eddy attended the dinner, with us, then went back to my house with dad. Full, full full retreat! A long evening gathering, with much prayer, opening up and...tears, of course. And giggling long into the night. An early start Saturday with everyone helping to put a delicious breakfast together. Laughter, stories, and food filled up our free time so we went straight from that into study time. My study was first, which also went long. Then Aunt Jan's and off to lunch at the Sand Creek Cafe (a fine establishment and official hub of Sand Creek, WI, population roughly 100). I took a detour with Linda and Bernadette to the store, so when we got back everyone else was already out riding the horses. At this point my week hit me. I felt weak and headsick, so I skipped horse riding and sacked out with some music in the livingroom. But I was up again for the scavenger hunt, the final study time with Bernadette, and gift exchanges. Stories and talking started up again, but my church service was coming up fast, so I bowed out and headed to church. I met the team just in time to grab a bite to eat with them, get an update on any changes, pray, and go right on stage! As I sang I realized my head sickness had turned into a sore throat. I got home, talked to my dad, then my husband, and it turned into a late night. Sunday was another early morning for practice at church. I dragged myself out of bed later than I should, with no time for breakfast. Thank goodness for church babysitters! We all stocked up on donuts, I had a good warm up, and had a good service. But my throat was worse. During second service I broke down and had a cough drop. It made me feel SO much better...until I got on stage! Oh no! My voice broke, and squeeked, and failed. I made it through, greeted people I knew, got Eddy, and went home. Home, home, home. Eddy fell asleep in the car and I wanted to. We crashed at home and slept all afternoon. Then back up to help Dan wash his truck, I got Eddy ready to go to Bible Study, We dropped Dan's truck off at the mechanic, dropped Dan back home, and left for Bible Study -- LATE. We didn't have a chance to make dinner at home, so fast food on the road. I met the ladies with a toddler and a dinner, which complicated the meeting, but we made it through, with a visit from Dan halfway through, on his way to Minnesota. Home again, home again, jiggety jog. Finished our dinner, but no firewood, so we snuggled in blankets and ate while watching VeggieTales. SLEEP. We both slept like logs. The retreat was over, church was over, Bible study was over. Back to life.