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.

May 6 – “800 billion gazllion dillion”

We managed to squeeze in a super-quick trip to Waco on Monday.  We had to get back on Tuesday because Cailyn had a reservation to spend the night with us.  Mommy is now working nights at the hospital and Daddy was on shift with the fire department.  That means Nani and DadDad to the rescue.

The point of our journey was to watch Caleb and Zakary play baseball.  By some freak happenstance they both had games back to back on the same night.  We arrived around lunch time and stopped by Rudy’s Barbeque to satisfy that basic need.  That gave us an hour or two to play with the boys before we had to load up for Zakary’s piano lesson way out in the country somewhere.  He went inside and the rest of us lolled around in the porch.  Nani found a rocking chair.  Caleb and I settled into the porch swing.  Caleb only informed us of his boredom on one occasion, so I would call that a win.  Luke went on a series of explorations of the yard and garden, always checking back to make sure one of the big people was keeping an eye on him.  Country life at its finest. 

From piano lessons we made our way straight to the baseball fields.  The boys are playing in a neighborhood coach pitch rec league.  Mom and Dad wanted them to have the baseball experience without the accompanying Little League Stress Syndrome to see if they really liked the sport.  Caleb’s group seemed to have gotten the memo.  I think the boys had a good time, whether they made an out or not.  Caleb hit the ball each time he batted and even worked his way around to score once.  Now the opposing coach in Zak’s game might have missed out on the “just for fun and learning” lecture.  There was a ref of sorts, but I think he was there to return the equipment and empty the trash cans after the game.  After missing one fairly obvious call at first when a kid ran way out of the baseline to avoid being tagged, he actually made the call later when another kid ran almost into left field to avoid a tag.  The opposing coach (who was pitching) stopped the game and argued the call.  I think he even protested the game until he got his way.  Not a single one of the kids had any idea what was happening.  Hmm.  Can we learn something here?  I think we lost both games, but Zak also hit the ball both times he batted, so he was pleased (Me, too).  Warranted a stop at Little Caesar’s for a celebratory pizza.

The next morning Caleb went with me to get donuts.  He had lobbied for that right the night before.  See, we have a tradition at cousins’ sleepovers.  The first two awake when DadDad leaves the house for donuts gets to go with him.  So far that honor has fallen on Micah (who on occasion has been the only one awake) and Zakary (who Micah started waking up to join us).  They sacrifice a few extra minutes of being awake the night before for the privilege of being the Donut Man.  Now that concept of sacrifice was swept under the rug in Caleb’s desperate attempt to make his move into the picture.  I heard arguments about the right thing to do and the fair thing to do and rotating the privilege.  The little guy would make a splendid lawyer (or as his Daddy recommended, a politician).  The compromise we reached (however temporary it may be) was for me to wait for him to wake up the next morning and he could ride with me.  Of course, we had not even discussed IF I was planning to go for donuts.  That was a given.

So Caleb and I went for donuts on Tuesday morning.  On the way home he was musing about something.  Finally it came out.

Caleb: “Let’s imagine, DadDad.  A mommy had 800 children.”

Me: “800?  That’s a lot of kids.”

Caleb (sensing my connection and getting excited: “Yes, DadDad, and they were all boys.”

Me: “Wait.  All boys?  How did they all get to be boys?” (Be careful what you ask, old man).

Caleb: “Oh, DadDad.  That’s how they came out of their Mommy.  And there was no Daddy and they all wanted donuts.”

Me: “Whew.  Wait a minute.  Did you say they all came out of the same Mommy?”

Caleb: “Yes.”

Me: “OK.  No Daddy.  And they all want donuts.  That’s gonna take a lot of donuts.  So let me get this straight, it was the same Mommy to all 800 of those boys?”

Caleb: “Yes it was.  And they all came out at the same time.  And after they ate all the donuts, she had 800 more.”

Me: “800 more children?  All boys this time?”

Caleb: “Yes, DadDad.  And they wanted some donuts, too.  And they ate 800 million bazillion donuts.  And then Mommy had 800 billion gazllion dillion more children, all boys, and they wanted donuts.”

Me: “I think Mommy was an ant.”

By this time we were back home, so I took his proposal for all the children in to Christi.  She was less that excited at the prospect, but Caleb, always the reassuring one, made sure she knew that all those boys wouldn’t eat all the donuts until they were toddlers (or something along those lines).  As usual, Christi took it all in stride.  Upon hearing my ant assessment, she offered, “Or maybe a spider.”  Now that’s creepy.  Think about it.   800 billion gazllion dillion tiny little baby spiders, all squeaking in their tiny little baby spider voices, “Gimme a donut.” 

1 Corinthians 15:57 says, “But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Father, thank you for keeping us safe on our quick little trip.  Oh, and thank you for donuts.  Amen.

May 5 – “A Sunday afternoon drive”

I guess I got so wrapped up in the drama of the Kroger crash yesterday that I never did complete my train of thought.  Chris did, indeed, get back in the saddle, or behind the wheel, if you will, and we decided to go check out as many of the historical homes as we could before the 6 p.m. closing time. 

Chris really preferred the first one we went to more than any of them.  It was pretty small.  Well, I guess the appropriate term would be quaint, right?  It did have some impressive architectural features, though.  And they were pulled off by a carpenter at some point in time.  So that gives it a major thumbs up from me, that’s for sure.  I’m not sure if this was one of the ones that required you to either take off your shoes or wear some of those little operating room booties.  Oh, and those houses were always accompanied by the “No high heels” sign.  I get the reasoning.  They had redone all those original hardwood floors and wanted them to remain relatively unscathed.  Seems like that would be a real issue, though, if there were kids or grandkids to consider.  Although from the little ones’ perspective, I can think of any number of fun games one could enjoy that incorporate sliding around in your socks on a really slippery floor.  I chose the booties option, as did Chris.  Didn’t keep them, though.  One tour guide told us it was like those 3D glasses you get at the movies.  I didn’t tell him that we usually wear those glasses home.  If you pay $3 extra at a movie, I want to buy the glasses, not just rent them.  Beside they make great toys for the kids. 

The obvious Belle of the Ball of houses this year was the one next door to Garten Verein on Avenue O.  It is a massive three story structure that has been completely renovated, top to bottom.  It is also furnished with antiques that fit the 1800’s - the years of its original glory.  It is also lived in by the family that did the restorations.  The highlight of this house for me was saying hi to the docent who introduced the tour.  She was a girl I went to high school with … a few years ago.  We were in drama class together.  In fact she played the part of Roo in our senior kids’ play, The House at Pooh Corner.  Yes, it was a Winnie the Pooh production.  I played the bouncy one … Tigger.  And that’s how she introduced me to the entire group waiting for the tour of the house.  Gotta love high school drama.  So … this house was just … gaudy.  Oh, it was impressive, to say the least.  But these folks went way over the top.  Even the elevator (yes, elevator) has a chandelier.  And this one had a “carriage house” out back that was designed by the same guy who did the Bishop’s Palace, at the same time.  The carriage house has one of the same turrets as the palace, except on a much smaller scale.  The one fun fact I remember about this one was that the carriage house never got raised after the 1900 storm like the rest of the homes on the island.  So the one entry door we were able to see was about half the size of a normal door.  I guess they had to contract Munchkins from Oz to take care of their horses in the early 1900’s. 

My favorite house was the one that was in the very beginning stages of renovations.  The historical society purchased it and is doing the basic big stuff.  Foundation and structural repair, plumbing, and exterior.  But for the sake of the showing, they basically opened the doors and said, “Come on in.”  And it was … nasty inside.  Awesome experience.  Stripped down walls (some termite damage).  Two kitchens (It had been used as a duplex).  Even had a scary old attic, but I couldn’t convince Chris to go up there with me.  It’ll be interesting to watch the progress of that one.  All in all, we ended up getting five of the nine houses on the list checked off.  Not bad for a Sunday afternoon drive. 

2 Chronicles 7:3 says, “When all the Israelites saw the fire coming down and the glory of the Lord above the temple, they knelt on the pavement with their faces to the ground, and they worshiped and gave thanks to the Lord, saying, ‘He is good; his love endures forever.’”

Father, we could sure use some of that fire.  Help us get prepared and be about worshipping so you can bring it.  Amen.

May 4 – “Oops”

Chris and I received unexpected blessings at church yesterday.  Aside from the usual spiritual ones of being with some great people, one of those great people had a real treat for us.  She started by hitting me at one of my soft spots.  She had discovered a stack of baseball cards that her grown children no longer wanted, so she gave them to me.  Now how much better could it get than that?  The top card was a Topps 1984 Nolan Ryan from when he was pitching for the Astros.  There appeared to be an entire Kmart set from around 1982.  There were a few other stars in the pack as well from that same era: Pete Rose (She said she was a big Reds fan.  I told her I was definitely not a Reds fan, but I was a Rose fan), Ricky Henderson, Carlton Fisk, Bo Jackson.  A few were from a cereal give-away.  There were even a few football cards included.  All in all, a greatly appreciated gift. 

Her present for Chris was a little different.  Seems she had purchased a ticket to the Galveston historical homes show, and was not going to be able to go.  She wondered if Chris was going to have time to use the ticket sometime yesterday or next weekend.  Well … yes.  Needless to say, our afternoon was suddenly a full one.  After a rather enjoyable lunch at McAlister’s Deli with our worship leader and his wife, we headed out.  First stops, though, were two Lemonade Stands.  It was the big Galveston push to teach kids how to be entrepreneurs.  There were lemonade stands all over the city, with the kids choosing a charity to donate their proceeds to.  We went to one set up outside a local bar and another at the entrance to Kroger’s.  The first one had a huge dolphin atop the stand that was spewing lemonade from his mouth.  Fascinating.  The second was set up on an Island theme, with the stand decorated to match, and the girls wearing grass skirts.  Both groups of kids did a great job. 

And that would have been a great day had we stopped there.  But as we left to start the homes tours we had a little … well, a literal bump in our figurative road.  Chris was backing out of the parking space when another car slipped into the road way right behind her and stopped.  No way Chris could have seen or predicted that maneuver.  Now if you have ever been in the parking lot at Kroger you know that it is the absolute worst arrangement in the history of parking lots.  Mix that with a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the boatloads of tourist traffic that brings, and you have “a lot” of cars.  Thankfully, Chris was barely moving when the cars introduced themselves to each other.  Our car was barely scratched.  The other one had a definite ding in the back door, though.  Kind of reminded me of the time I did the same thing.  Except I was driving a huge dump truck, picking up the garbage at a beer joint on the beach.  Another story.  Another time.

I called the police to make sure they didn’t particularly want to be bothered by such a minor issue.  I was right.  We exchanged insurance information and both went one our way.  All’s well that ends well, right?  No one injured.  Chris was a little shook up, she jumped right back in the saddle and drove away … carefully.  I don’t think we’ll be going to Kroger’s any time soon, though.  At least not on a Sunday afternoon.

1 Chronicles 16:34 says, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.”

Father, thank you for protecting all of us in that little fender bender.  Thank you for the calm attitude of the other family.  Amen.

May 3 – “The Visitor”

We went by the Oleander Festival over at Moody Gardens yesterday.  Didn’t see Betty Head, though. That’s what we were hoping for.  After all, she is the woman of the hour.  Lifetime achievement award and even had a park named after her.  It’s really nice when something like that happens before a person dies so they can see the appreciation people have for their efforts.  And that is one special lady.  Oh and did I mention she was probably my Mom’s best friend?  Many congrats to the Oleander Lady, Betty Head.

Back at the house, we had one of the most interesting … and certainly unusual … visitors that we have ever had.  Ever.  I heard a knock at the front door and went to investigate.  Now usually Chris answers when it is a woman, but she was busy in the bedroom, so I made the approach.  There stood a frail looking old lady leaning heavily on her cane.  I opened the door and said hello.  The brief conversation that followed went like this:

The visitor: “No hablo espanol, es verdad?”

Me: “Si, solo muy poquito.”

The visitor: “Ah, bien, bien”

Obviously disappointed, and unwilling to attempt further communication in my TexMex dialect, she shook her head from side to side and slowly shuffled back to the shiny new black SUV parked in the street obviously waiting for her.  Now what do you do with that?  Was this some kind of new infiltration technique by the Mexican Mafia?  Was a border drug cartel softening me up for a future incursion into the neighborhood?  Was she a renegade Jehovah’s Witness missionary working on her own?  Was she casing our house for her accomplice who would return later for the break-in?  Was she an alien in disguise who learned our language by listening to broadcasts of Mexican TV novelas?  That would certainly explain her confusion when I was unable to communicate.  Was she an angel searching for someone to present with a particular message from God that was to be delivered in Spanish?  Or maybe … just maybe, mind you … Was she just a sweet old lady who happened to approach the wrong house?  I certainly hope she at least found someone to communicate with further down the street.  I do admire her courage, approaching a random house like that.  Maybe that’s something we could try on our vacation.  I wonder how the residents of a random suburb in Louisville, Kentucky, would take to a random old guy knocking on their door and hearing, in my best Texan drawl, “Howdy, y’all.” 

1 Chronicles 16:34 says, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.”

Father, watch over that sweet little lady.  Keep her safe in whatever it was she was doing.  Amen.

May 2 – “Avengers report”

Well, we got our first report on the highly touted new Avengers movie.  We were babysitting Kel and Christina’s kids so they could watch the movie and then go to a staff supper provided by a professional chef.  Yep.  Professional chef.  Sounded like quite the affair, too.  Several courses of food.  I heard the words “bacon wrapped” at one point and “filet mignon” at another.  Christina wasn’t all that impressed with the cauliflower, but I guess there has to be some sticking point.  From the sounds of everything else they had, I don’t think I would have noticed the cauliflower one way or the other. 

Kel did manage to squeeze in his opinion of the movie, though.  Well, actually, Chris had to ask specifically about the meal.  He couldn’t stop talking about the movie.  Now he was careful to avoid spoiler alert give-aways.  He always is.  But I have to say, he was highly impressed with … the villain.  Seems Ultron came across just as he was supposed to in Kel’s superhero-imprinted mind.  He made the comment that the Avengers characters were all fine, sure.  But it was the fact that the bad guy was such a strong character that gave them credibility as heroes.  And “that’s the way it should be.” 

Well, I never knew that was the “approved” way of looking at superhero characters.  I mean, when I was growing up in the “real” Superman universe, bad guys were just bad guys, and the superheroes were the good guys.  But then, that was a much simpler time.  A time before the insurgent Marvel seeped onto the scene with its flawed good guy characters.  Sigh.  The good old days.  But I think Kel may have hit upon something.  I saw a FaceBook post by a good friend, Kenny Humphries, the other day.  He had a conversation with one of his kids.  I confess, I cheated and went to his page to get the details.  Here’s how he posted it:

Kenny: “Leland, who was your favorite superhero?”

Leland: “The Joker.”

Kenny: “Really? Why?”

Leland: “Well, I really like Iron Man, and Spiderman, and Superman, and they came BECAUSE Joker stole the money.  So, he’s my favorite.”

So, there you have it.  When you combine the intellectual ponderings of Kel with the refreshing, irrefutable logic of Leland, you come up with the inescapable conclusion.  Without a super-villain, the superhero is, well, meaningless.  Wait.  I think I saw that movie.  Unbreakable, wasn’t it?  Hmm.  I reiterate.  “Sigh.  Ah, for the good old days.”

Deuteronomy 6:4-5 says, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”

Father, thank you for being all the superhero any of us will ever need.  And you certainly don’t need a super villain to give you credibility.  Amen.

May 1 – “Lunch time medical calls”

We went out to lunch the other day.  My personal favorite on the Island, Shrimp and Stuff.  My standing order there is a popcorn shrimp meal, because I also like the way they do french fries, and Chris likes the hush puppies that come with it.  She just gets the popcorn shrimp a la carte.  The shrimp were a little different this time, though.  Much smaller than usual.  Some were tiny, in fact.  Well, not as tiny as the little critters we had to babysit the other day.  Those brine shrimp operating under the assumed name “sea monkeys” still take the prize for the smallest bait I have been able to actually see with my naked eye.  I still haven’t figured out a way to get one of them on a hook.

As we drove up to Shrimp and Stuff we saw fire engine 5 parked across the street on a call at what looked to be a barber shop of some kind.  I found out later it was a medical call.  After we got parked and made our order, I went out to check on them.  I could see through the door that the crew was still inside working diligently on the patient, so I didn’t bother them.  The ambulance arrived very soon after, so that patient was secured and sent on to the hospital to be checked out.  Another in a string of medical calls duly accomplished by the ever-vigilant Galveston Fire Department.  Nice job guys.

And from there we headed out to the hospital ourselves.  We received a text as we arrived at the restaurant that a good friend’s youngest boy, 15 month old Owen, had been admitted with what they thought was a rather extreme reaction to a mosquito bite right over his eye.  The eye had swollen shut, and as it turned out, he had developed an infection.  The hospital admission resulted when the infection didn’t get any better, and in fact seemed to be spreading rapidly to his ears and even his lungs.  They had him on IV antibiotics, but the line blew, so he was taken orals.  And then the lab work results came back.  He had one of those staph infections that was resistant to antibiotics.  Boy do I ever remember those days.  That means he will need IV antibiotics for days, maybe even weeks, until that thing is cleared up.  And that meant for me, and it was looking like it would mean for Owen, installing one of those PIC lines that goes right up to the area near the heart.  It does mean less sticking, so that’s a plus.  But it also requires an extended level of cleanliness and care that most under-two-year-old boys don’t do so well sitting still for.  The prayer now is that one of those world-class medical professionals will be able to get a new IV line in, and that the new line will stay in place for the next few days so they can avoid the PIC line.  Or … if the PIC line is the best way to go, that they will be able to get it inserted with little difficulty and it will do its job.  Or, of course, there is that other option …

Exodus 15:26 says, “He said, If you listen carefully to the voice of the Lord your God and do what is right in his eyes, if you pay attention to his commands and keep all his decrees, I will not bring on you any of the diseases I brought on the Egyptians, for I am the Lord, who heals you.’”

Father, you are the God Who Heals, and you can still do miracles today.  We would sure be happy to see one in Little Owen.  He’s in your hands.  Touch him where he needs it the most, when he needs it the most.  Amen.