A New Year With An Old Love

I can't believe another year has gone by so quickly and my life has changed so much in that time. After giving up on love and believing those who had claimed to love me, but would tell me that no one ever would, I am back with my first love.  Happier than I ever thought I could be and more in love than I thought was possible. We had lost one another for 35 years but found each other, and could only think of how we would manage to be reunited.  It took several months to figure out the logistics.

I owned my own rather large home, but was on year five of a never-ending battle to keep it, while my ex wanted it sold. My children were in a school that they loved.  But most of all, my church family meant the world to me. My entire family was heavily into volunteering there; my oldest was even their Tech Director.  However, I was never able to find a permanent job and worked a series of short term jobs. But we were happy.

My Sweetie was living a life of loneliness and working at a job he loved with the same company for almost three decades, and told me he often dreamed of one day finding me. Then I found him.

I gave up the fight for the house,  found homes for my dog, cats and remaining chicken. We packed everything we owned into storage, sent my minivan to my neighbour's home, until we get transmission work done. Two of my sons opted to live in the country with their Dad and my four remaining children traveled with us and our remaining cats, cockatiel, and dinner plate-sized red-eared slider. We downsized to an apartment in the city. Quite different from our almost 3000 square foot home and five acre property in the country.

We found a church we love; where my oldest is already involved in the tech department. Two of my kids have jobs, another changed her college plans and the younger one is loving his new school that has almost as many kids in his grade as his former school had in K-12 grades. My remaining children and I are closer than ever. We've had many  laughs and fun adventures and are taking part in all sorts of new activities.  But the best part for me is that I am back with the first boy I ever loved. My first serious relationship.  And for the first time in my life I feel like someone really loves me (besides my parents and my children).

I don't know how 2015 can be better than 2014. I can't wait to see what is next.

The Hardest Part is Not Knowing

It's been a terrible year pet-wise.  Okay, I admit we had a few too many. We used to run the county shelter and just had to save those in danger when the new management took over.

We moved to our new home with six dogs. A year later, Domino left us. She was a beautiful Border Collie/Australian Shepherd who had come to the shelter as a puppy. My county animal cruelty investigator ex never let her have too much fun. She was always told to lay down - no toys for her. After a while he started ignoring her and knocked some of her teeth out when she tried to get his attention. She became close to William and she followed me everywhere. As she got older, she became skin and bones and could barely move but the now-ex told me if I took her in to have her  put down then he would let everyone know I killed his dog. The day she died, I came home and found her laying in the flower bed. I carried her in and laid her on a mat in front of the dryer. The ex, at the time, was pretending to be disabled, so he sat in the doorway and cried crocodile tears while William screamed to her not to go. With his Asperger's Syndrome he doesn't understand why people and pets we love have to die - do any of us really? After three hours of trying to keep Will from laying on top of Domino and not to scream in her ear. William suddenly told Domino "Jesus is here. He told me it's time for you to go with him. Go now, Domino. I love you." She looked at him, let out a long sigh...and was gone.

Almost two years ago, Scout joined us. He was a housebroken but other-wise untrained pain in the rear Greyhound/Jack Russell. Over time he has become the best dog. Still, we tried to re-home him because we had too many dogs. I kept telling the kids if we didn't have so many dogs, we could keep him. I advertised him, but no one wanted him. If only there weren't so many dogs...

Suddenly, we dropped from six dogs to two in just a few months.

Zoe was the first in this string of dog loss. I can honestly say she is in a better place. Zoe is a nine year old Chihuahua who came to our animal shelter when she was around two years old after being taken from her abusive home. She was adopted out but was abused by those people too, we got her back and she became William's little buddy.  The ex would hit her in the face until she lost some teeth. After I threw the ex out, my Pomeranian would bite poor Zoe.  When India's boyfriend decided he wanted Zoe, I was happy to give her a good home. After all, we had too many dogs to give her attention anyway. Now Zoe lives across the state, has another chihuahua friend to play with and is devoted to Cody's disabled Dad. We miss her, but she needs to stay where she is happy.

Next was my precious Timothy. He was my little boy, my constant companion. This little Maltese/Poodle/Westie came into our lives as a six-week old puppy as a gift for my oldest daughter and was a Mommy's boy until his much-too-early death in August. Like me, he was an abuse survivor. Having been thrown around by my children's father and later kicked repeatedly in the face by the same ex who hurt Zoe and Domino.  He relied on me for his very life. He wouldn't eat if I was gone. He barked until I reappeared - sometimes going hoarse. In his last year he began to accept India as a substitute if he couldn't get to me. Timothy went blind early and I spent the next six years of his life talking constantly so he could find me. I believe the abuse led to his early death, and his last few months were a rapid downhill slide. No one was surprised when he laid down next to me and went into a permanent sleep.

Soon after Timothy, we lost Cassidy. She was our Pekingese. She was found deep in the woods one January day and was a temperamental and silly girl. We don't know how old she was but she came to us looking "up there in age". Like the other dogs, my ex had kicked several of her teeth out, so eating was difficult but she could do it. She only let me groom her - biting two groomers and an assistant. Even my grooming her depended on her mood. She gave kisses. Rough-housed with us and loved to be cuddled. When we first got Cassie she hated being picked up but as the years went by she would jump into our arms. Her one big flaw was that she loved to bolt out the door as soon as it was opened and run to the neighbour's house one-quarter of a mile away. That fateful morning, she only made it half-way from one of our driveway entrances to the other. As Matthew stepped out to get her he saw the truck and heard the thud. When I went to her, a truck was pulling in. I'm afraid I was abrupt with the man as I ran to Cass. But it was too late. She was gone. I carried her to a spot next to Timothy. Just outside my bedroom window. Andrew dug a hole for her, and there she sleeps.

But now my Belle. We found Belle in the woods across from our house not long after Timothy joined our family. She was about two years old and seemed to enjoy making us try to catch her. When the kids and I went on to the animal shelter, Belle was stuck in the back of the building because the animal kicker didn't like her. After a few years I was finally able to bring her into the house, just as we were getting ready to move. After coming to our current home, he was tossed out and the dogs could live in peace. Belle kept her love of escaping and wandering but always returned home. We have been watching her carefully this winter. Her arthritis has gotten really bad in her rear leg where she is missing a toe. Her hearing went and her eyesight was getting worse. Years of being hit in the head by the dog kicker had made her confused. She sometimes stared at us like she wasn't sure who we were. I worried she wouldn't make it through winter and told the kids we would have to put her down in the spring.  William loved her. He just wanted her to stay with him forever.

Then the night came when the mudroom door wasn't tightly closed. The dog chain was shut in the door so it blocked the door from latching, although it seemed like it was. I had let Scout into the mudroom in the morning so I could let him outside when the kids got on the bus - without him running out with them. After I walked back into the living room, William reappeared at the door and let Scout in. I remembered that I had noticed the mudroom was really cold but in my haste didn't check why. When I went out there. Sugar, the Pomeranian, was sleeping on Belle's bed next to the washing machine, but the door was open to the outdoors. This had happened two days earlier and both girls were standing in the mudroom when I went to close the door. This time Belle was nowhere to be seen.

I wandered around the fields surrounding our property. I checked our barn. I stood on the top of our Hogs-back hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I went to the neighbour's pond, just in case... I've put ads up, contacted the local lost pet Facebook page. I can't call for her. Her world is silent. 

It snowed last night. A big storm skirted over us but dumped a few inches of snow and freezing rain on us, on her? Did it cover her? Belle's leg doesn't like cold. It gives out after a few minutes. 

Sugar and Scout keep trying to run outside after I unhook them when they are pottied, I think they want to look for her. Scout lays on William's bed and barks out the window. Is she outside? Did someone find her? Is she safe inside someone's home?

If I only knew, then I could stop worrying.

I miss her.

This is one fear I don't think I'll ever conquer

5:45am

That's what time it is right now and I'm as close to wide awake as I can get with less than an hour and a half of sleep.

I love the weather.

Rain?

Love it!  Walking in it. Sitting on a porch watching it. The scent of it. Everything about it!

Snow?

As long as I don't have to go anywhere, I love the beauty of it.  The shimmer of the sun on the crystals.  The frozen droplets on branches. I've been known to wander around in my PJs and boots in 20 degree weather, with one of my kids chasing after me with my coat because I've gotten so heavily into taking photos of snow.

Thunderstorms?

Definitely! I remember as a child sitting on the front porch watching thunderstorms. We never worried because of the lightning rod on the church steeple across the street.  Well, once a tree behind our house was hit and lost a branch. When I lived at Kirtland AFB a tree behind my house was hit while we sat in the carport, sending bark across five lawns. More recently, lightening hit the ground between the house and barn. It grounded with the wiring 3 inches under the lawn's surface, which connected the weather station with the gauges on the barn and, in the process, took out the back-up tower it was connected to (don't worry, Matthew always backs up his back-up). Matthew had just come inside from closing car windows so that one freaked me out.  I still love sitting in the sun room watching the storms roll up. I wish I could get a photo, but I've never been able to.

Wind?

Oh God No!

I live in a draw. A dip in the ridge where the wind comes off of Lake Erie and blows on my house 6 miles inland.  Constantly.  I wake almost nightly from the sound of the wind rumbling through the trees surrounding my house, in my oasis nestled in farmland.

Tonight is a bit different. We are getting a cold front rolling in from the Midwest and it's being led by high winds.  Okay, that is almost a nightly ritual but this time it's a little different.  We have a high wind warning.  No! Really?  No need to tell me.

I woke around 2:30am to the wind, like most nights. Only tonight is different. The wind keeps rolling in and getting stronger each time. It began with a sleep-ending distant light rumble as it made it's way across the field and through the cluster of trees I live in. Followed by the rattling of the cap for the smoke stack left over from the old pellet stove that once stood in the office. I laid in bed thinking "This too shall pass." No. It didn't.

My mind has gone crazy over the last few hours. With each relentless wave of wind I have laid in my bed listening to my house. The winds have increased as I've been listening for anything abnormal. The cap is still rattling. That's good. This means no rain coming down it and into the house.  No sounds of the rolled roofing over the addition peeling off.  This is good because the boys and I would hate to lose the roof over our bedrooms. The shingles. I know they are blowing off the older part of the house.  They always do and we find them scattered throughout our five acres and into the neighbouring corn field all of the time. What about the siding? That panel on the side of the house has blown off on everyone who ever lived here. It's still unattached so, I worry about the rest of the house.

Oh God! Please don't let my house be ripped apart.

The wind. Is that just the regular wind noise?  We are on the edge of Tornado Alley.  No train sounds.  No screaming of the wind. No fire siren going off in town a mile away. Every tornado has missed us because of the ridge we sit on. Should I be so cocky about this?  What if it jumps the hill and decides to land on the house?  What if it's a mile wide like they get in the Midwest and takes out all of the five houses in that swath?  Most of my neighbours are elderly. Would they be okay?  What would we do? We're on the front of the hill with the barn  on top of the hill 300 feet behind us. We would have to get behind the barn.  And it's bitterly cold out.  If the house gets wiped out, where would we go? North East? How would the kids get to school? That's the wrong school district and a long drive to Clymer.

I can't take this!  It has to stop!

Are the cars okay?  They are broadside to the wind with the van catching the brunt of it.  What if she tips onto the Subaru?  How will we get to church? Church. I was going to ride in early with Matthew but I haven't had any sleep and he stays for over four hours.  I have to stay home and try to sleep.  I don't want him taking the interstate. Subie will just be tossed around by these winds.  He needs to take the back way as long as there is no snow.  If it doesn't start snowing until after he gets home then we don't have to worry about Pennsylvania and their lack of snow removal. He'll have to pick up groceries for me, since I do my shopping on Sundays while I'm in town.

For the love of God, would it just stop!?

The house has been here for 113 years, I know she can take this. But she been beaten by the wind for so long, maybe she is too tired to anymore.  Was that the house shaking?  No. She can't be. She's firmly embedded onto the basement. It must have been Miss Purrty giving herself a bath on my bed.

Oh God!  Another gust.

Is she shaking? Miss Purrty ran off so that must have been the wind shaking the house.  Why is she shaking?  She shouldn't be shaking. According to the weather, our gusts are supposed to be 58+ miles per hour.  Damaging winds.  Well isn't that just ducky.

Jerome hasn't slept well since the custody battle and sleeps in my bed most nights.  I want to go downstairs. I can't take this anymore and I really think I'm going to go crazy.  But what if the roof gets ripped off while I'm downstairs?  Who'll rescue Jerome? Who'll rescue all of the kids? Six kids. What was I thinking that I can rescue all of them? Oh come-on. It isn't like they are babies. All I have to do is holler and they'll run out the door.  To where?  It's so cold out and the barn is so far away. The cars? They aren't safe in this wind.  Am I going around in circles on my panicking?  What about the pets?  Who do I rescue?  There are too many and the cats would panic and scatter.  It's too cold for Pepper. Cockatiels can't take cold.

STOP!!!!!  Why won't it stop?!?

That isn't a gust. That's prolonged wind. Okay. It's rumbling, but not train rumbling. No screaming of the wind. Just rumbling.  It's just wind - not a tornado. Oh God! It's wrapping around the house and blowing on my back window now!  Why won't it calm down so I can breathe between gusts? Why is the siren not going off?

Please God. It has to stop.  The sound is maddening.  MAKE IT STOP!!!!

.
.
.

It's quieter down here. The sounds of the furnace coming from the intake vent are so comforting.  India is asleep on the couch.  She only slept in her room one night since coming home for Christmas break.  I hate that she has to go back to college on Tuesday.  Oh no! I have to drive her to the bus station in Erie in the snow!  In Pennsylvania!  No plowing there.

Romeo is sitting on the back of the chair, staring out the sun-room window, watching the wind by the glow of the street light.  Street lights through farm land to the state line - how odd.

Okay. That was loud.  I think a bird feeder just fell on the deck. I wonder if Outside Kitty is someplace safe.  I hate that he/she won't let us bring her inside where it's warm. Matthew is stirring. He's planned on leaving in another 70 minutes.

Matthew said the wind blowing on his room in the front of the house woke him before his alarm went off. He said he thought we were in a tornado too. He said he knows what my room sounds like in the wind and doesn't want to go in there. Coward.  That 4 foot pop-out making the addition wider than the rest of the house makes the wind sound terrible in my room. Like it's trying to rip the addition off after 39 years.

The wind is relentless.  It seems like it's getting stronger.  I'm so tired and want to go back to my bed.  I like my bed. It's so warm there. Matthew just made coffee.  Coffee or bed.  I know I'm not going in to church.

Seriously??  The house is groaning and creaking from that minute-long blast of strong wind... and here it comes again.

I'm still in the living room. Matthew is in the shower and the coffee is done.  I could grab the first cup. My favourite part of the pot. That would mean getting up and walking into the kitchen. I'm so tired.  The sky is turning grey out there with the sun trying to come up.  Basil, the ferret, knows I'm awake and it trying to get his cage open - he wants me to let him out so he can wander.  That would mean getting off the couch and walking across the room. I would love to call Johannes. He's usually awake about now, even though he is three hours behind. That would mean 4:17am his time. But that still is a walk to the kitchen to get the phone. I need to make a shopping list for India. I know I won't be awake if she calls me after service. She was planned on going to China Jade during Sunday School. I would love sweet and sour pork or a poo-poo platter. We haven't had Chinese food in forever. The coffee smells so good.

The wind is still powerful but I can see outside now and it somehow feels safer.  The trees are blowing about wildly outside the window.

7:27am  I managed to drag myself off the couch.  There was a loud bang on the deck.  A heavy wooden bench fell over.  The earlier sound wasn't a bird feeder, it was shingles landing on the deck.  I walked around  the house and checked things out.  We have branches down but the cars are still upright. I think the angle I left the tires at gave the van more stability.  She's rocking but protecting the Subaru by her mass.  I got some coffee, but it isn't helping.

Johannes' light came on Google chat. I'm going to call him.

Update: We have a plastic doghouse that was only used by Timothy (my beloved, late Maltese mix). Matthew just found the roof of it behind the house and the bottom up the hill near the propane tank.

Dog Pack Attacks Alligator...

At times nature can be cruel, but there is also a raw beauty, and even a certain justice manifested within that cruelty.

The alligator, one of the oldest and ultimate predators, normally considered the ‘apex predator’, can still fall victim to implemented ‘team work’ strategy, made possible due to the tight knit social structure and ‘survival of the pack mentality’ bred into the canines.

See the remarkable photograph below courtesy of Nature Magazine. Note that the Alpha dog has a muzzle hold on the gator preventing it from breathing, while another dog has a hold on the tail to keep it from thrashing. The third dog attacks the soft underbelly of the gator.

Not for the squeamish…

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From FB~ T Troublemakers 

Being Strong When You Want To Cry

It was one of those roller-coaster weeks. When you have children who need you to be strong for them but emotions ran the gamut and there is nothing you can do but pray for it to end soon.  

Let's go back to last Friday (the week before last).  Jerome had an eye appointment where we knew he would be sized for glasses since his physical a few weeks earlier showed he needed them. We had a great time, just he and I, since I rarely have one-on-one time with my kids.  He was so excited to get glasses! 

We made it back to school in Clymer a few minutes early for the PARP Family Night (Parents As Reading Partners).  He was too old to attend so Jerome was going to help me run the donut swing for PTSO (Parent-Teacher-Student Organization).  There were kids in K-12 participating at the K-4 event but everyone had fun so no one minded.  We finally headed home around 8:30 after helping clean up the hallway and gymatorium (I like that name and want everyone to use it).

Jerome got to participate - several times
(I used to have a hoodie just like that.
I need to get another one from Johannes)

Saturday began with taking Amanda to the Cheerleaders breakfast before running home and transferring the chili to the Crockpot for the game.  Only to return to volunteer at the refreshment stand.  I am so glad I was in there since we had a MAJOR downpour during the football game.  While Jerome hid in the stand from the rain, so his blue hair dye didn't run, the game went on despite how soggy the ground became and how drenched the players and the cheerleaders were.  We won.

It was splash-when-you-walk weather

Monday I woke up stressed out knowing I had to make a dozen phone calls for the child custody trial I would be having on Tuesday (I'll blog about that later).  I was cleaning and mentally writing notes for the phone calls when the school called and our attendance officer told me Andrew was upset and wanted to come home.  I figured it either had to do with the trial or the weekend he had just spent with his father but when I got to school they asked if I would take Rachel home too and she looked like she had been crying. That was when they told me the School Superintendent was dead.  The kids had been told during an assembly but no one knew what had happened.

There will never be another Superintendent like him.

Rachel wanted to come to our house since her mom was working.  They hung out while I went back to cleaning and started making my phone calls.  

Then the others came home.

Amanda got online and, as I walked through the room, she was reading a news article.  

It was murder!  

In our Amish community where we rarely locked our doors?!  More and more reports came out. He was shot several times. But that means someone hated him and NO ONE hated him.  Everyone who met him liked him.  Why would someone kill him?  As we learned more, we learned he was engaged to, or had dated (depending on the source) a woman who had a jealous ex-husband.  He was killed on Friday, about the time Jerome and I left the school just a little way from his home, and laid in his lawn until they found him on Monday.  His daughter had come over for dinner earlier that evening and he was packing for a Superintendents meeting when he was murdered. 

When India headed home after her college classes across the state , Rachel called her to tell her Mr. Reed was dead.  I could hear Rachel pleading with India to stop crying before they hung up.  When I learned he was murdered, I called India but Rachel had already told her that terrible news.  I don't think anything can rip out your heart like hearing the total anguish of your child, knowing you can't touch them.  I wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be alright. All I could do was try to comfort her over the phone.

In the meantime, it was Spirit Week. The class games on Monday were cancelled.  Even if they wanted it to go on, too many students had gone home.  The different activities for the week went on. The Principal felt the kids needed a sense of "normalcy".  Normalcy with the press lurking just outside of school property and standing in front of Mr. Reed's house. Normalcy with police everywhere when we rarely saw police in our edge of the state.  Normalcy when our children didn't know what to do or how to act.   Normalcy while we were all in shock.

Clymer - Sherman volleyball teams remember Mr. Reed

The volleyball game where our arch rivals, Sherman Wildcats, stood with our own to say a prayer for Mr. Reed; Black Tie Day changed to Wear Black for Mr. Reed Day; The Halloween Costume Day where the students dressed up in costume, all went on with the rest of the Spirit Week celebrations.  The annual Meet You At The Flagpole was moved indoors, while the flag outside was at half-mast, so the press couldn't take pictures of those in mourning.  

Perfect timing for the Annual
Meet You At The Flagpole

There was a prayer vigil at the local Methodist Church where the media tried to catch folks as they walked out.  "Jack" Mr. Reed's recently adopted shelter dog visited the school while under the care of a teacher before Mr. Reed's nephew came for him.  Our 400 student (give or take) K-12 school was turned completely upside down while we marched on.

Finally, Friday.  The most bi-polar day I have ever gone through.  The day began with the excitement of the pep rally.  Amanda was eager about the new dance the cheerleaders had been practicing.  They did an awesome job from what I saw of the video and the students really got into it.  But that excitement was short-lived when school let out early and many of us made the hour-long trip to the funeral.  It was standing room only and over 300 people attended, so we sat in a side room. 

As they carried Mr. Reed out and his family followed I stood to the side and watched Amanda while she stood in the front of the crowd.  I watched her face go from curious observation to the reality of the situation finally hitting her.  I can't explain what I saw. I just know her state of denial was coming to an end and she was coming down hard but I was too deep in the crowd to get to her.  When we left the church and Amanda said she wanted to go home, not to the cemetery, we headed across the street to the van. Straight at the media onslaught. 

They stopped us and asked us to speak but everyone said no. I spoke on behalf of India off-camera and when they asked me to go on-camera I watched Amanda walking up the hill to the van and politely refused.  I hurried up the hill and heard her before I saw her.  Amanda was in Rachel's arms, just wailing. Andrew got to her before me and held his sister until I got there.  Amanda rarely cries - India and I can't remember the last time she cried - so this was heart-breaking.  It took us a while to get out of the side street and we headed home.

Allegheny State Park, near Salamanca NY

But we were in the Allegheny Mountains and Amanda loves to take pictures as much as I do (plus she took photography class in school) so  despite the drizzle we stopped in the state park for a little while so she could do what she loves to do and photograph nature before heading home and to the Powder Puff game.

Powder Puff Football - Amanda is #14

Back up in spirits. It was the Senior girls against the Junior girls with the football players coaching.  By then we had gotten used to the police presence.  As usual, the Seniors won despite one of last years graduates repeatedly changing the scoreboard to make it look like the Juniors would stand a chance.  The sun came out for the first time in a week  as the girls played.  It was as though Mr. Reed was watching the game. He loved watching the kids having fun.  Afterward I dropped Amanda off at a local church for the cheerleaders' slumber party.  

Looking over our school football field
at the first sunlight in almost a week.

When we got home, we heard the killer had been caught in Virginia.  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Now Mr. Reed could rest in peace. 

Saturday rolled around and Andrew, Jerome and I headed to the Homecoming Game. I was in the refreshment stand again and the boys helped hawk food in the stands. Mr. Reed's family was there to watch the game before going through the things in Mr. Reed's home.  His daughters stayed for the entire game and posed with the boys after our victory over Panama Panthers.  I truly believe Panama threw the game for us.  They are a good team but lost 55 -6 and only scored that touch-down in the last minutes.  They knew we needed this and I thank them.  

Mr. Reed's daughters posing with our team.

Our rivals, Sherman had gifted our school and community this sign they had made for us.  Small communities always seem to band together when one is in need. 

Thank you.

Back home Amanda had to get ready for the Homecoming Dance.  She and the rest of the cheerleaders were meeting in the football field for pictures before heading over to dinner at The Dutch Village Restaurant.

Some of the cheerleaders before the
Homecoming Dinner and Dance.
(Amanda is second from the right)

Monday came, and we went to Mr. Reed's Memorial service at school. His family came there to show us their support.  Their support, as though we had the harder loss.  There were tears but more often there was laughter as people remembered this man, who touched so many souls.

Today we learned the murderer had been in school that Friday and that he was escorted to Mr. Reed's office - but Mr. Reed wasn't there. He was probably somewhere around the school just being silly with the kids he loved.

Tomorrow is the rescheduled School Open House.  Life goes on...

Let me tell you about Keith Reed.

Mr. Reed had only been with Clymer for 11 months.  He was hired from another school district after his recovery from a motorcycle-tractor trailer accident that nearly took his life.  After 6 weeks in a coma, numerous broken bones and almost two years of re-learning everything that comes naturally to us, he returned to work before  applying at Clymer. Hearing the stories of his first meetings with staff and Board of Education members, it is no wonder he got the job. We were shown candid photos of him breaking rules and pulling students down the hallways on the equipment cart. We saw photos of him in suit and tie on our school's big John Deere tractor, because he wanted to learn to drive it. We've heard stories of his finally getting to drive a school bus, albeit in the bus garage parking lot. We've heard of his love of landscaping despite his inability to do a lot because of his accident. That didn't stop him from having a beautiful lawn (with a lot of help from one of the kindergarten teachers with whom he became good friends). We've heard of his love of golf even though he tended to lose balls - once getting a golf cart stuck while trying to locate them and the band director pushing him out. We were told how you knew if he was in his office from the laughter coming from it.  We were told of his love for Jack, and Jack's love for beer. 

Mr. Reed has left a trail of students who adored him from as far back as the beginning days of his career. The more troubled the teen, the more he embraced them.  Even those who spent time in his office grew to love him.  He was a father-figure to those who's fathers weren't there for them, including India. He was everyone's friend. He handed out candy to the kids. He carried kindergartners to their classes. He always had high-fives and fist bumps for the students.  He loved scaring the kids and I heard that he possibly had frightened every student at some point.  He was always willing to chat with the parents.  He was a genuinely good person.  The 11 months we knew him feels like a lifetime, as though he has always been here. 

Mr. Reed fake-throwing his keys at Amanda

Keith Reed had everything. A job he loved with students he cared deeply for. He bought a beautiful home in a community he called "Heaven".  He had not just survived but recovered from a near-fatal accident.  He found a dog to keep him company.  All he needed was someone to love.  He was divorced many years and at 51 decided he wanted someone in his life, so he went to an online dating site to find the special person. What he found was a possessive ex-husband vowing revenge. A revenge that took away the innocence of hundreds of people (myself included) who had never experienced a murder before, let alone of someone close to them. A revenge that changed thousands of lives forever. 

 So many questions are running through my head right now.   Will we ever really get over this?  Had Mr. Reed been in his office, would he have been killed there?  Would those around also have been harmed?  Would he have been able to be saved if he had been shot while others were nearby? If I had taken the route home past his house, would I have seen him or heard something and been able to get him help. Why did he have to die just because he wanted to be loved?  Why did he have to lay out there in the downpour during the football game?  Was God's heart so broken that his tears poured on us? 

I hope we all learned from Mr. Reed to love unconditionally those children who need us most.  Those who need guidance and compassion, so that they may go on with their lives knowing someone cares.  I hope we can carry on his legacy. 

Things that make you go... What the Heck?!?

So last night, actually evening - whatever you want to call around 6-ish, I decided to take a break from the never-ending and rarely productive-looking weeding of the flower beds and go for a walk with Esme.

This is not her.

This is Daz. 

Do you think I would go for a walk with a chicken?

Okay, maybe I would...

(Daz is too little to be with the older chickens so she hangs out in a cage on nice days. )

.

.

.

Anyway...

So Esme and I decided to take a walk across the property.

This is Esme, 

she is my faithful puppy.

After discussion, we decided to head off to Way Far Away Land.

To see how well the neighbour's corn is growing.

*rubbing chin* 

"Looks like their corn was planted a bit late this year"

(Sorry, I occasionally channel Grandpa Paul.)

Way Far Away Land.

Otherwise known as the back acre of our five acres...

where few venture...

except snakes and the occasional fox...

oh , and the fisher who moved in...

behind the barn.

As we wandered up the hill I thought to myself:

"Self, do we even OWN a lawnmower?"

Then I realized...

Oh, it's a deer bed.

Now I see why it isn't mowed (.....mown? Mowded? - I prefer the last choice.)

No reason to mow down where the deer sleep.

As I stood there, I thought,

The deer are watching me in my room...

A wave of paranoia came over me.

Then back to reality when I found out that this strange creature actually sits there to think.

Okay. So she said she falls down there but let me hold onto the thin hope that she is somewhat normal.

Back to our walk...

Esme and I continued our meandering to Way Far Away Land.

As we approached the old part of the barn, reality struck once again...

My sons are bizarre.

Not all of them, just the ones who mow the lawn.

Paths?

They made paths.

Everywhere...

I've been told it's so the underage drivers could drive on tracks while practice driving.

So they mowed paths.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Just turn and walk away, she said

Just turn and walk away...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the way, 

*rubbing chin*

Looks like their corn was planted a bit late this year...

I never feared walking in the dark until .....

This week I decided to do the writing challenge for NaNoWriMO. The challenge was fairly simple:


In 200 words or slightly less, fill in the blank:

I never feared walking in the dark until .....

I never feared walking in the dark until I got cats. That was when I learned
that I no longer dared walk through a darkened room. After all, one can't just
assume the path is clear when there are cats in the house. No. Those days of
simply strolling through my home are gone. An innocent walk to the bathroom
late at night can turn suddenly into an odd dance of sorts. One where you are
forced to jump and leap about as you realize your path is strewn with all
manners of toys meant to amuse the family feline. Toys like busy balls and
catnip mice, which crunch or squish underfoot. Sometimes you even encounter
the cats themselves, curled up in sleep in the middle of the room. Shrieking
as they are surprised out of their deep slumber by your foot against some part
of their body. Other times it is your turn to shriek when the cats are awake
and decide that you look like someone who would enjoy being frightened, as
they pounce on your foot like it were a mouse that should be gnawed upon.

Ah, yes, then there are the mice...

Memorial Day and a Random Act of Patriotism

Just another Memorial Day - or was it?: 

I'll get to this in a minute...

I was supposed to be grocery shopping.


That's what I had planned for this morning after my kids walked the mile into town in 82 degrees to watch a 10 minute parade - didn't happen.

That's what I had planned after my kids hung around the lake in town and enjoyed the coolness - didn't happen.

Instead, here I sit. On my deck.  Working on my blog while I drink a banana daiquiri as my day ticks away. 


Today has been relatively calm, except for these dang deer-flies that won't leave me alone since I smell like bananas.


Seriously, where the heck did they come from.  We moved from deer-fly country three hours north.  Why are they here?????  


DIE BUGGERS, DIE!!!!!


So after the boys and I made it to the deck I started documenting my day, of course. Beginning with the geese in the pond across the road.

The babies are getting so big!

Then there were the kazillion pics I took of our Ameriadian flag blowing in the breeze. 

Yes, it's Ameradian. not Canamerican, like India used to claim it was.  It may look like a plain American flag but it isn't.  I bought the flag on the way to my Girl Scout trip to Canada so it was first flown over Ontario for a weekend before it ever flew over American soil.  

Wait! Isn't Canada in North America? So isn't that America? In that case, I guess it did fly over American soil..... maybe...

See the geese in the background.
They are so cute!

Say hello to My Little Friend

Andrew found this cute little guy in an area that India and Andrew cleared out for my vegetables.  I made him laugh repeatedly when My Little Friend kept "talking" to him in a silly voice.

Up next, a fierce game of kickball where Andrew thought he could beat the team of Nick and me. Didn't happen.  Mom kicks kickball butt any day of the week. 

Nick was getting a bit smug at our making points, and started gloating.

We kept repeatedly kicking the ball onto the pitch of the house and into the ditch on the other side of the hedges. It was pretty cool watching the ball start at the peak and roll from roof to roof before bouncing around the front deck and into the sidewalk between flower beds.

The boys debated on how incredibly hot it was in the sunlight. 

Random thought:


I killed a wolf spider.  I didn't mean to. He hid under my computer and I tried to move him but mortally wounded him instead.  I feel so bad.....

Now some random pics of the day:

Nick, India and I played with our old mailbox
and came up with this.

Esme is the only one of our cats allowed outdoors
since she always stays near us.

He's old, he's blind and he is devoted to his Mommy
- me -
My little Timothy!

Sugar, Great Googly Moogly, Kitty
Whatever you call her, she is darn cute!

Some of my plants I re-potted the other day.
I seriously love plants.
It's a good thing I fell in love with a Dutchman who's Dad used to own a nursery.

Banana Daiquiri - does it get better than this? 

Matthew's official Memorial Day portrait.
He poses so nicely for me, don't you think?

Matthew's idea of Memorial Day fun
after rebuilding the garden tractor.
I think haying equipment would have been more appropriate.
Five acres, one lawn mower, three days
..... repeat.

All I needed was 3 cups of shredded Gouda -
 India was so frustrated trying to get that amount.
And for some reason she kept slapping my hand.

This bottle was knocked off the table 7 times and never even cracked.

Matthew took this pic of the sprinklers - pretty cool!

Now, back to the grill. 


I thought how much more tidy it would be to cover the grates in aluminum foil.


A plan not well thought out...


So India and I were forming the Gouda-filled burgers in the kitchen when William came running in saying the grill's cabinet was on fire.  I ran out and saw the flames shooting out of the sides of the cabinet and from the top. I ran back in to get the extinguishers. 


No, I will not pretend I was calm. 


I was picturing the tank exploding along with my beautiful house.


As I was spraying the foam, thick black smoke poured up the hill toward the shop, where Matthew and Andrew were. Sorry, too much panicking for anyone to take pics.

Things I learned: 

I know how to use a fire extinguisher 

Our smoke detectors work. 

Matthew and Andrew can run really fast!!

Check this out!
The cover melted to the bag of mesquite chips
but never damaged the bag or chips.

The foil melted off.
I guess the grill was trying to remove itself from the covering.

Matthew to the rescue.

Matthew hosed off the foam so we could continue cooking.
How funny that just a couple of hours earlier I was thinking of using the grill cleaner on it.

Yet, India never stopped preparing the burgers in the kitchen through the entire thing.


I counted 8 times that Matthew repeated "Don't cover the grates in foil" during the time he was cleaning the grill - and since then... 


Or as he said when Andrew jokingly asked if he wanted some foil, "I don't need no stinkin' foil."


Every so often that rancid burning plastic/rubber/whatever it is smell comes out of the open windows of the house.  Thankfully the baby chicken and the Cockatiel in the house are still okay and the smell didn't overwhelm them.

These were in the pot on the side-burner.
Although the water was completely gone, the noodles cooked perfectly.
hmmm... new cooking tip?

Back to business as usual.

India and Matthew cooking the burgers
with William's supervision.
Love the extinguisher and debris all around

Can we call these post-flame-broiled?

Look familiar?
Nope - now we can see his other eye.

There!
Now we finally got a picture of Matthew.
Still looking at his phone - he was watching "Scrubs" on Netflix
(New profile pic for FB? hmmm...)

As the sun was setting, We played another rowdy game of kickball where India joined us while the two dogs stayed clustered by my feet and ran with me. 

The game often turned ugly with brutal attacks made on me by India.  She even had me to the ground while she kneeled on my hair as Andrew was pulling her off of me.

I will adamantly deny any attacks that she may say were made on her by me.


She lies!


We played long after dark in the light of the streetlight, deck light, lamp post and solar lights (the town has street lights all the way to the state line). The combo lit the front lawn pretty well.


I'm ending my blog a little after 10pm.  I'm in bed, exhausted, drinking iced tea and talking to Johannes.  Andrew and Nick are playing with sparklers  and things like whatever this is in the pic, since Matthew and I told them we've already had one bonfire today. 

Before I end this I would like to share something I discovered in the blogosphere.


I found this video at The Laughing Mom .  


Like Terri says at the end of her blog:
This video captures one of the most heart-felt random acts of patriotism I’ve ever seen.  An American Airlines employee known only as “Brett” spontaneously sang the Star Spangled Banner over a loud-speaker at Chicago O’Hare International Airport on the anniversary of 9/11, bringing dozens of travelers to their feet as they looked on in silence.  Brett has an amazing voice and he used it in an incredible random act of patriotism.  I challenge you to have a dry eye after viewing it.


Thank you Brett.

God Bless America.

Oudoe,

Ingrid