Thursday, May 7, 2015

May 7 – “Notes of an angelic baby-sitter”

I finally finished the second book in the Time Quartet series by Madeline L’Engle.  The one called A Wind in the Door.  They are books originally written for teenagers as I understand it.  The adventures center around one family and its highly unusual children.  I read the first one a while back, and I might not have continued.  Not that I didn’t like it.  It was quite good, actually.  I just have to prioritize my time wisely, and reading books has become an activity best accomplished on long trips in the car … for those precious moments, few and far between as they may be, when I am awake and not needed as a navigator.  So, what was the grand appeal of this particular installment?  By far it was the depiction of a cherubim.  I know, “cherubim” is a plural word, but somehow the character was kind of plural.  But it was presented in all of its biblical glory, with hundreds of eyes and wings and with great power.  Interesting that it interacted with humans, though.  Can’t say much more without issuing a spoiler alert for the purists out there.  Read the book. 

Nathan picked up a second job building fences yesterday.  And Chris decided to go to Wednesday Club (She won the door prize, too.  Some kind of candle).  April was still asleep, trying to recuperate from six straight nights of working in the emergency room.  So that left good old DadDad to pick up Cailyn from school.  After a brief stint on the playground where we read one of her new Book Fair books and did some serious swinging, I even managed to prepare her an after-school snack.  Some time ago Chris introduced her to one of her own all-time favorites, apple slices with peanut butter swabbed all over them.  Actually, her Mom and Dad may have already done the introductions, but Cailyn liked it, too.  Not so much me.  Peanut butter was made to be spread on a piece of bread opposite to its counterpart slice liberally swabbed with jelly.  Anything else is less than appetizing as far as I am concerned.  And no, I don’t care for Reese’s peanut butter cups, either.  Or even peanut butter cookies.  Just another of my inherent weirdnesses.  But I managed to get the apples sliced and a few of them swabbed before I was informed that I was doing it wrong.  That left me at a loss.  How could I do it wrong?  A hunk of apple and some peanut butter.  Where is the art in this?  But to her credit, Cailyn patiently explained my shortcomings to me.  It seems that when you make peanut butter apples, you have to peel the apple or it doesn’t taste the same.  Does to me.  The tiniest amount of peanut butter still ruins the perfectly good flavor of the apple. 

Chris arrived soon after snack time, and the two of them once again became thick as thieves.  They even took a walk around the block.  And just before Nathan arrived to pick her up, she sat on Chris’ lap and scanned through her phone, occasionally playing and singing along with the songs she found.  As luck would have it, just as Nathan walked through the door, she found and began singing along with perhaps the greatest musical selection to arise in the second half of the last century.  What was this grand interlude that greeted him as he walked through the door?  None other than “I’m a Nut.”  Ah, great times.

Ephesians 5:19-20 says, Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”


Father, thank you for the opportunity we have had to be a small part of the lives of our grandkids.  Sure is a fun job.  Amen.

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