November 28 – “A Window into a Vaughan Thanksgiving”

OK.  Here goes.  Wild and furious, just like the day … Josiah was back after his bout with a bug.  He explained the whole thing to me: “See, DadDad, I was sick.  101 per cent.  But then I was barely even sick – just 99 per cent.”  Got it.  And welcome back.  We missed your considerable addendums to our chronicle of festivities.

Finally it was time to trim the Christmas tree.  Kel crawled up into the attic and passed down box after box of ornaments, lights, and festive displays.  As the tree finally began to make its appearance, The Beach Boys Christmas Album followed by Christmas with the Chipmunks, all played on what is apparently now an antique contraption called a CD player.  All a part of our family tradition for decorating Nani and DadDad’s tree.  Chris and I added a little surprise to the festive atmosphere.  We showed off a few of the swing dancing moves to showcase our considerable skill set in that arena.  Rumor has it that a video has made its way onto FaceBook. 

The kiddos attacked putting up the tree this year with a vengeance.  Especially Kel, which was an unexpected delight.  He’s usually just a little bit Scrooge-y when it comes to tree decorating here.  Maybe the secret is doing ours before they do theirs.  That way he isn’t already burnt out.  Ah, but such sweet memories of Christmases past.  Soft music.  Two-year-old Noa singing along with her own melody and words.  Beautiful.  At one point Noa picked up a ball of lit tree lights and exclaimed, “I love this.”  Quite the serene and idyllic scenario … until I turned on the wet-dry vac to pick up the few thousand errant tree needles strewn about the floor.  Josh was doing his best with the broom, but that vacuum, loud as it was, made quick of the mess.  It just kind of overwhelmed the mood.  Oh, and then our last strand of Christmas lights shorted out.  Could have been a catastrophe, but Kel and Christina picked up a replacement on their afternoon shopping extravaganza.  Nathan and April snuck away as well to get in some shopping of their own.  Afternoon grandparent duty … check.

Now onto afternoon fun.  Uncle Josh organized a BB gun contest over in 40 Steps.  I know … “Your gonna shoot your eye out.”  Let me say up front that all eyes came through intact.

 Came down to Zak and Micah in the finals.  Zak took the most cans hit.  Micah took the award for most hits to Barbie’s head.  Well, to the picture of her head on the Barbie box.  What’s that?  Oh.  I found an old box for the guys to shoot at.  It just so happened that it happened to be the one that Barbie Hook’s replacement clone came in.  They pretty much ignored the cans after the first round, though.  Hey, it was a bunch of boys, right?  Christi and Luke watched from our driveway.  Something about a safer environment.  Meanwhile Cailyn and Noa organized the kids’ kitchen out in the back yard.  Nani and Luke joined them for some bird watching and swinging. 

We went over to Kel and Christina’s for supper.  Caleb rode with us.  When we pulled up he hopped out of the car and said, “Well, let’s go meet this house … literally.”  (It was the first time they have been to their cousins’ new house).  But as he approached the garage door he became a little confused.  “How do you meet a house with no door?” After a brief search he located the front door and we all went inside.  The experience was a fun one organized strictly for the kiddos.  We didn’t even turn on the football game until almost 7:30.  Of course we had checked in and found out that the game had been postponed because of lightning, but that certainly had nothing to do with our brave decision to forego football in favor of Minecraft for the kids.  Christina ordered some pizza.  They played hide and seek outside and then in the house.  They switched to video games.  Caleb was especially interested in this aspect of the evening entertainment, because he had been told that “Jachin and Micah have a real X-Box 360.”  On the drive over that was all he could talk about (before he started dozing off, that is).  Once, when he took a breath, Nani asked him just how was X-Box 360 different from plain old X-Box.  He had an answer right away.  “That’s easy.  It is considerably more technologically advanced.”  He is six.

James 4:17 says, “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins.”

Father, thank you for technological advancements and the six-year-old operations manuals that come with them.  Amen.

November 27 – “A test for edibl-ility”

I managed to make the rounds of all six fire stations yesterday.  We fried some extra turkeys so we could take some to each of the stations for the guys on duty to enjoy.  As usual they were all appreciative of the expression of our love for them.  None more so, however, than the guys at station four.  They immediately started digging in to the bag to “test it for edibl-ility.”  As I recall, they did the same thing last year.  Finally Kevin admitted that they had been to Kroger earlier in the morning and were horrified to find that they had no turkeys that were already thawed out.  They did get one of those huge spiral hams, but he was aghast to think of Thanksgiving without turkey.  “I’m just a turkey kind of guy,” was his take on the whole matter.  Glad you got some turkey, Kevin.

By the time I got home the meal was pretty much ready and warming in the oven.  All that was left to make was some gravy for the cornbread dressing.  Well, that and … NOBODY HAD ARRIVED.  It was after noon.  I had been up since 5:30.  It was time to eat.  I did my best to tough it out and wait for some family foot traffic, but that just wasn’t working.  I finally succumbed to the delicious aroma and snuck a few chunks of ham to tide me over.  Finally Nathan and Cailyn walked in.  His word of greeting?  “So when do we eat?”  My words of response, “Whenever someone gets here.  Oh, wait.  You’re here.  Let’s eat ... now.”  I guess Chris sensed the urgency in my voice, even though I was in such a weakened state from my too-long imposed Thanksgiving Day hunger.  She began unloading the ovens and making the gravy.  Before she got everything out, Kel got here with almost all of his children.  Josiah had been sick the night before, so he was destined to spend the entire day alone with just him and Mommy.  Broke his heart.  After an obligatory trip to the clinic for a strep test, he was forced to have a Thanksgiving meal at Whataburger.  He discovered the gravy is really good, though.  I understand he finagled a trip to Bucees as well.  Not to mention more Netflix movies than he knew even existed.  I have a suspicion that video games might have been involved in his incarceration repertoire as well.  Poor Josiah.  I think he might just be disappointed to have to come to Nana and DadDad’s today.  After the first round of food was “tested,” Bryan and Jennifer arrived.  And later on April came over after her day’s sleep was done (she works nights at the emergency room).  Rounds two and three and perhaps four of food tasting went well.  Testing for that nasty chemical in turkey that makes you drowsy proved inconclusive.  Nathan and I certainly fell victim to its wily ways.  I suppose everyone else was too interested in the fate of Tony Romo and the Cowboys to give in.  We’ll have to do more testing.  Perhaps around noon. 

I managed to stay awake for most of the Texas Tech vs. Texas football game.  Pretty wild shoot-out.  Lots of scoring.  Tech came out on top.  It was fun.  We closed out the evening by staying awake until Josh and Christi returned from their obligatory Black Friday midnight jaunt to WalMart.  The sales all started at six, but I think there is just something in Christi’s blood that requires a late-night shopping extravaganza at least once a year.  Hope they were successful. 

James 4:15 says, “Instead, you ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that.’”

Father, thank you.  Amen.

November 26 – “A New Start”

We attended a wedding the other night.  The bride lives across the street from us.  She and her first husband lived next door to Mom and Dad for quite a few years as well before he died, so we have known her for years.  The groom, sadly, fell and broke his hip a few weeks ago,  to his credit, though, he has been busting it through rehab and managed to stand through the whole ceremony and even walk the entire length of the aisle at the exit.  (Not to mention, he made it through almost all of a first dance at the reception). 

The wedding was held at Moody Methodist Church.  That’s the biggest church on the Island.  Not the prettiest or the oldest, but most assuredly the biggest.  The crowd was not that large, so it was pretty much dwarfed by the massiveness.  The ceremony was nice, though.  Her son walked her down the aisle.  Her daughter was maid of honor.  Her granddaughters were bridesmaids.  Her other son read Scripture.  Quite the family affair.

The reception was considerably more ornate.  It was held at the Lasker House Bed and Breakfast here in Galveston.  It’s one of the historical homes from the turn of the century (That would be the century where 1800 was turning into 1900.  Gotta remember we have had another one of those since then).  It started out as one of the opulent, grandiose private homes that were being built around that time.  Then, with financial assistance from a guy named Lasker, it became a children’s home, and operated as such in one form or another for many years.  The present owners completely renovated it into a gorgeous, antique-filled structure that is the bed and breakfast today.  I’m not sure I could comfortably stay there overnight, though.  I’d be afraid of breaking something.  During the pre-meal festivities we pretty much hung out with one of our other neighbors.  After that we gravitated to hanging out with the “help.”  Read here, the preacher and the caterer, both of whom we have known for many years.   We did ease over beside one of the Christmas trees (the one in the “Music Room,” so designated because of the grand piano and the music themed tree decorations) so we would have a better view of the children dancing.  They were pretty spectacular, too.  Especially one who was really getting down.  She was matching up with the music, too, quite unlike a few of the other girls.  She reminded me of the character Nicki on the TV show Blue Bloods.  I have to award props to the four-year-old-ish boy, though.  He could rock out to just about any style of music and bust some serious moves.  Impressive.  We didn’t to see the bride and groom off.  I figured we’ll see them later on out working in their yard or heading to WalMart or something.  Congrats, Corrie and George.

James 4:10 says, “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.”

Father, walk with those two through their remaining years together.  Please do a work of healing on George’s hip.  Amen.

November 25 – “Um, we have an issue …”

It was turkey frying day around the Vaughan house yesterday.  Nathan and Cailyn got here shortly after I got the oil started heating up.  Nathan was here as a resident fire fighter to see that we didn’t  burn the house down (not to mention he did all the  heavy lifting of the turkeys).  Cailyn came to be an apprentice for Chris.  Their job was to make the pies for the Thanksgiving meal.  By the way, Cailyn has come up with yet another nickname for Chris – Nans.  Has a ring to it, I guess.

Wish I could say the day went by completely without incident.  For the most part it did.  Except maybe for the fire.  That would count as relatively unexpected, wouldn’t it?  That and the fryers not cooperating on keeping heat levels consistent.  We had to check levels at least every ten or fifteen minutes and readjust settings.  We even had to finish off the last few turkeys by baking the for a while.  The outside was perfect.  They just didn’t get quite done deep inside.  I think it is finally time for some new fryers.  These have served their time well. 

What’s that?  You want to hear about the fire?  Well … here’s the thing.  One of the things Chris insists on is that we put a layer of newspapers under the fryers to catch the residue of grease that inevitably spills over.  It helps prevent massive staining of the patio bricks.  Done it every year.  No incidents as yet.  We should have known something was different about this day when the first omen occurred.  As Nathan was slowly lowering the first turkey, Chris ready to snap a memorial photo, the steam started rising.  Not an unusual occurrence.  But he had forgotten to slip on his firefighter glove (he gave me one of his old ones for just this purpose).  I grabbed the pot lid and made a Captain America shield to protect him, but Captain America needed some work.  Didn’t do much shielding.  As I ran for the glove, Nathan dropped the turkey pan from his other hand (Not sure why he did that, now that I think about it.  It’s not like he was going to grab the grease).  Fortunately, the camera was on still photo and not video or we might have had an internet viral sensation.  It all worked out with no one the worse for wear.  (Easy for me to say, right?).  And he never forgot the glove again.  But it was a portent of things to come.

We got the fires regulated and retired to the house for our five hours of lifting, dipping, waiting, carving, wrapping, washing, rinsing, repeating.  It was a great day for turkey frying, by the way.  Partly cloudy, so it was really cool.  But at some point during one of our extended waiting periods, the wind picked up.  Not hurricane force or anything close, by any means.  Just noticeably picked up.  I went outside to make yet another check of the fryers’ temperature regulators.  And what should greet me but … a fire.  Right under one of the fryer frames the newspapers had blown upward into the flames and caught the blaze.  It wasn’t a big fire, but it was clearly flaming and rapidly engulfing the remaining newspaper.  I went into jaded homeowner mode.  I watched the fire burn for a second or two before I reported, “Um, we have an issue out here.”  Nathan was there in a second.  Together we approached the fire site.  I started stomping the fire out.  After all, I had on some old Nikes and blue jeans.  Perfectly protected, right?  For some reason Nathan walked right past the blazing inferno, however.  Come on, fire fighter.  Can I get a little help here?  That’s when I realized that he was heading over to turn off the propane tank.  Oh yeah.  Forgot about that.  That’s why he makes the big fire fighter bucks and I’m just the “unthinking” homeowner.  In my defense, I did get the fire put out.  And we did get all ten turkeys fried.  And the house didn’t burn down.  And we are both still alive.  Lots to be thankful for on Thursday.

James 4:8 says, “Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.”

Father, thank you for your protection in the turkey frying fray yesterday.  Amen.

November 24 – “On the Shelf”

For anyone who has ever been through the retreat center kitchen at Seaside … you need to make a return trip.  I joined Chris Passons yesterday for a Raise the Shelves workday.  Between the two of us (and my Chris’ participation by bringing us some Subway sandwiches for lunch), we waded through Home Depot and WalMart and Jamaica Beach Hardware Store.  We cut boards to fit.  We rounded the corners.  We sanded.  We painted.  Chris screwed in the brackets to the wall, and re-screwed when there was no stud where there should have been a stud.  Oh, and we put up a third bracket in one case because the spacing between studs put on behind the stove instead of conveniently next to it where we had hoped it would be.  Not that that has ever happened to a construction anywhere).  I got a pretty nasty splinter in my finger (I know.  But I had to add a little whining in there somewhere.  Don’t worry, though, all you medical specialists who were instantly concerned about my health and well-being.  My Chris managed to get it out with no complications once we got home).  We placed the microwaves on the shelves.  Yep.  That would be plural, microwaves.  That was the WalMart stop.  We got one to replace the broken one that we tore out way back on demo day so long ago.  We even re-placed the stuff that was sitting all over the counters and put much of it on the new shelves.  Of course that will all most likely be re-set to its most effective location when someone gets up there with more of a fashion/kitchen practicality sense (dare I say “feminine touch”) than either of us had after our full day of manly, construction, grunt work.  Aaar, aaar, aaar.   We still need to hook up the ice maker for the refrigerators, but that is a job for the indomitable Bob Wyrick.  We will be happy to act as his sidekicks should he need any assistance when that time comes. 

So, great job Chris.  Everyone else … get up there and take a look.  Or better yet, check it out when you come to the Bethlehem Market Craft Fair on December 12^th from 10 to 4.  How’s that for unapologetic, in-your-face advertising?  See you then.

James 4:7 says, “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”

Father, grant Chris some extra blessings this week for all his hard work yesterday.  Amen.

November 23 – “The Gathering”

Quite the motley crew went to lunch together yesterday after church.  I was kind of surprised to be included in such esteemed company.  There were those three stars of any event, the trifecta of adorability, Cailyn, Kortland and Jordan.  Korty and Jordan were flanked by their personal entourage of parental units, and Cailyn’s own roadies appeared as we were about to begin.  They had been on a road trip to the Renaissance Festival, no doubt scouting future appearance sites for their young charge.  I wonder if they dressed up as some are wont to do?  You know, Cailyn did have something to say about her mother’s fashion sense.  She was doing some designing of her own at the table with crayons.  In an effort to make conversation I asked her what her favorite color was.  She informed me that I already knew that one.  OK.  I tried again, asking what hue was most favored by her mother.  For some reason that drew a rise from her focused little mind.  She looked up at me, no, somehow through me, apparently struggling for an answer.  And finally it was there … “Mommy likes every color.  Even camo.  You know, DadDad, that ugly, nasty, green, camo color."  Ah.  So anyone wondering what to get April for Christmas?  How about, well, anything, as long as it is her favorite shade of camo.

Among the older of our company were the indomitable Bryan and Jennifer, wheeling their way into the history books of ankle-dom.  And across from them sat that twinkle-fingered piano tickler Wes.  Well, now Grandpa Wes after the birth of his very first grandchild, a grandSON to be precise.  I had a seat of honor far above my station next to that wonder of wonders, that bastion of baby-care, none other than Mama Chris, herself.  Never ceases to amaze me that I get to sit next to her at such functions.  One would think we have some sort of special connection or something. 

Oh, there was nothing really special about the gathering.  Eating, of course.  Talking well beyond the minimum.  And I suppose we managed to meet the minimum for laughing as well.  Just a group of rogue Seasiders gathering sustenance before continuing on with our respective rowdy routines.  But it was … nice. 

James 4:6 says, “But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’”

Father, thank you for after-church lunches and a different array of friends to share them with.  Amen.

November 22 – “On her own”

Cailyn spent the night with us last night.  Always a welcome experience, although she can be a bit high maintenance at times.  Not because she does bad things.  She just likes to be the center of your world.  Of everyone’s world.  She even told me as we were brushing teeth, “DadDad, did you know that I really am a special person?”  Thinking that she just wanted a little encouragement, I hastened to agree with her.  “No, DadDad, you don’t understand.  I really am a special person.  See, Mommy has this thing where I wasn’t supposed to be borned, but I got borned anyway, so I am really special.”  What could I do but agree to that?  Then she added, “That was a really special day when I was borned, wasn’t it, DadDad?”  Oh, yes, it was.  Yes, it was.

At one point she ran to the backyard play.  Within a few seconds we heard a blood-curdling scream.  And it continued.  “Nani!  DadDad!”  We thought she was hurt.  I raced to the back door and there she was, happily swinging.  “What’s wrong?” I asked.  “Oh, you have tell Nani to come see.”  I promised I would, but not wanting to seem uninformed, I asked, “See what?”  Her reply?  “Oh, DadDad, I’m swinging and I started all by myself.”  What?  Swinging on her own?  When did that begin?  Sigh.  Yet another rite of passage attained I suppose.  I asked her, Does that mean you never want me to give you a push again?”  She thought for a long moment before answering, “Well, no, DadDad.  See, sometimes I just like to be pushed.”  Whew.  For a minute there I was afraid she was growing up. 

James 4:4 says. “You adulterous people, don't you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God.”

Father, stay close to all of our grandkids as they make their way through the twists and turns of growing up.  Amen.