So this is day two of being left to my own defenses. To survive on my own as best I can. I'm kidding, it's not as bad as I make it out to be. I really miss them but I know they're doing the work they feel called to do.
And the schedule goes like this:
Jonna and Katie work all week in New Orleans
Jonna and Katie get home late Sat. 6-30
Sunday 7-1 is a blur of Church, clothes washing, a pitch-in, repacking and ongoing prayer for Katie's Peru mission trip
Monday 7-2 Katie gets up about 3:00A.M. to get to the airport to catch a 6:A.M. flight to Miami
Jonna leaves after Church 7-7 to work at Scenic Hills Church Camp until 7-13
Katie arrives back in Miami on 7-15 and since there were no flights back into Indyucky that late she is staying with a christian family who has graciously opened their home to a total stranger and are willing to take her to the airport the next day
Katie arrives home late 7-16
Katie sleeps from late 7-16 till 8:P.M. 7-18 to watch the season premiere of Dead like me
7-19 We all celebrate Bono Day (like who doesn't?)
Recuperating from aforementioned celebration until 7-22 when Katie leaves(once again) for a week of CIY in southern Illinois
I am confident our Lord will watch over Katie and our family this summer. I know that whatever happens, no matter how easy or difficult, it is in God's hands and I couldn't ask for anything more than that. The promises God gives us if we are in His will are of abundance and happiness.
That being said, if you'll excuse me, I have to find some crackers for dinner.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Fathers Day (caveman style)
This being Fathers Day weekend, I would like to say Happy Fathers Day to all dads out there. I hope you enjoy the weekend and your family. I know I will. My family, I mean.
I went caving at Harrison-Crawford Forestry this morning as part of a gift package from Jonna and Katie. The other part is I get to go camping while they are on mission trips. I hope camping is easier. The kid, excuse me, naturalist, that led us didn't have a clue as to what normal people can do. He's done this since high school and is going to college to be like a cave professor or something. Geologist, I believe. He decided that three caves would be sufficient to kill anybody over thirty-five. Smart kid, he was right. I did the first cave, which went about four hundred feet . Take into consideration that it was a fifteen foot drop into a hole just to get into the cave. Then it was about a third walking (the first part, just to sucker us into thinking that it was going to be easy), then a third on our hands and knees, and the rest on our bellies. On top of wriggling on our bellies an inch at a time, the naturalist wanted us to be careful not to knock off any the hangie down things hanging from the ceiling. Lord knows it's not like they grow the things in caves. So, anyway, we made it out covered in mud and thankful to walk upright again.
I started wondering if this is for me or not. If you didn't know, I have a fused left arm. Which simply mans I can't bend it. Absolutely useless for crawling in caves. As I said, upon surfacing I did some some thinking and decided that the effort I have to put into it is not worth the joy I get out of it.
But, hey it's one time, a chance to see something different, so why not go with it and have a good time?
Then we got to the second cave. Again, i'm looking down about a thirty foot hole. The kid, AKA "The Naturalist" (why does that make me think of nude volleyball?), says "About thirty feet down, straight ahead for about a hundred feet and then down an eighty foot slope that's, oh, about eighty degrees". Down. Okay, let's get out our protractors and find eighty degrees. Got it? Yeah, right there beside ninety degrees. I Don't know about you gentle readers, but it's my first time caving, with slick and muddy rocks to hang onto. Eighty and ninety degrees are going to have the same effect on me.
When I told our guide of my misgivings he seemed disappointed that I wouldn't get to see all the cool things in the cave. I was thinking if you turned the lights out, all holes in the ground look the same. I went down the hole, straight for a hundred feet, but could not bring myself to go down the climbing slope into the main part of the cave. So I sat and waited for everyone else to come back out. And I waited. For about an hour.
But that's okay because I met some nice (and more sensible) people that were only in for about twenty minutes or so. One of the teenagers was obviously displeased with the the experience and was quite curious as to when they were going to the pool. I am always pleased when I find a young person with a good head on his shoulders. Wise beyond his years, that one.
By the time the others emerged from the ground, I had eaten my lunch, drank some water, and was in quite a relaxed mood. The first man out was a father smiling and encouraging his son as they climbed their way out of the pit. Happy Fathers Day to him because as soon as they were out and his son wasn't looking, he turned to me, shook his head, and said,"You didn't miss a damned thing." Seems there's a place called the keyhole that's diamond shaped and very narrow. By all accounts not quite half of the cavers made it through. At least one was stuck for about a minute or two in the Keyhole. Time is different in a cave. I wasn't in long enough to find out if minutes convert into hours or days. I'm sure that gentleman could tell you.
Now I'm not one who would say that I'm smarter than someone else. Just knowing is good enough for me. There was a teacher and his ten year old son who decided (I'm thinking about halfway down the slope) that they should probably head on home because they had a two and a half hour drive ahead of them. Never mind the huffing and puffing or the thirty to forty extra pounds we all seem to get about forty. I prefer to think of myself as an individualist rather than a wet blanket. But I must say that I was pleased I wasn't the only man who knew his limitations.
Lest some of you get the impression that I didn't have a good time, you are mistaken.
I enjoyed the physical exercise that comes with caving. I saw a salamander that I had never seen before. And I discovered why we don't live in caves anymore.
But seriously, thanks to Jonna and Katie for suggesting and encouraging me to do this. It was fun and fun to write about.
I went caving at Harrison-Crawford Forestry this morning as part of a gift package from Jonna and Katie. The other part is I get to go camping while they are on mission trips. I hope camping is easier. The kid, excuse me, naturalist, that led us didn't have a clue as to what normal people can do. He's done this since high school and is going to college to be like a cave professor or something. Geologist, I believe. He decided that three caves would be sufficient to kill anybody over thirty-five. Smart kid, he was right. I did the first cave, which went about four hundred feet . Take into consideration that it was a fifteen foot drop into a hole just to get into the cave. Then it was about a third walking (the first part, just to sucker us into thinking that it was going to be easy), then a third on our hands and knees, and the rest on our bellies. On top of wriggling on our bellies an inch at a time, the naturalist wanted us to be careful not to knock off any the hangie down things hanging from the ceiling. Lord knows it's not like they grow the things in caves. So, anyway, we made it out covered in mud and thankful to walk upright again.
I started wondering if this is for me or not. If you didn't know, I have a fused left arm. Which simply mans I can't bend it. Absolutely useless for crawling in caves. As I said, upon surfacing I did some some thinking and decided that the effort I have to put into it is not worth the joy I get out of it.
But, hey it's one time, a chance to see something different, so why not go with it and have a good time?
Then we got to the second cave. Again, i'm looking down about a thirty foot hole. The kid, AKA "The Naturalist" (why does that make me think of nude volleyball?), says "About thirty feet down, straight ahead for about a hundred feet and then down an eighty foot slope that's, oh, about eighty degrees". Down. Okay, let's get out our protractors and find eighty degrees. Got it? Yeah, right there beside ninety degrees. I Don't know about you gentle readers, but it's my first time caving, with slick and muddy rocks to hang onto. Eighty and ninety degrees are going to have the same effect on me.
When I told our guide of my misgivings he seemed disappointed that I wouldn't get to see all the cool things in the cave. I was thinking if you turned the lights out, all holes in the ground look the same. I went down the hole, straight for a hundred feet, but could not bring myself to go down the climbing slope into the main part of the cave. So I sat and waited for everyone else to come back out. And I waited. For about an hour.
But that's okay because I met some nice (and more sensible) people that were only in for about twenty minutes or so. One of the teenagers was obviously displeased with the the experience and was quite curious as to when they were going to the pool. I am always pleased when I find a young person with a good head on his shoulders. Wise beyond his years, that one.
By the time the others emerged from the ground, I had eaten my lunch, drank some water, and was in quite a relaxed mood. The first man out was a father smiling and encouraging his son as they climbed their way out of the pit. Happy Fathers Day to him because as soon as they were out and his son wasn't looking, he turned to me, shook his head, and said,"You didn't miss a damned thing." Seems there's a place called the keyhole that's diamond shaped and very narrow. By all accounts not quite half of the cavers made it through. At least one was stuck for about a minute or two in the Keyhole. Time is different in a cave. I wasn't in long enough to find out if minutes convert into hours or days. I'm sure that gentleman could tell you.
Now I'm not one who would say that I'm smarter than someone else. Just knowing is good enough for me. There was a teacher and his ten year old son who decided (I'm thinking about halfway down the slope) that they should probably head on home because they had a two and a half hour drive ahead of them. Never mind the huffing and puffing or the thirty to forty extra pounds we all seem to get about forty. I prefer to think of myself as an individualist rather than a wet blanket. But I must say that I was pleased I wasn't the only man who knew his limitations.
Lest some of you get the impression that I didn't have a good time, you are mistaken.
I enjoyed the physical exercise that comes with caving. I saw a salamander that I had never seen before. And I discovered why we don't live in caves anymore.
But seriously, thanks to Jonna and Katie for suggesting and encouraging me to do this. It was fun and fun to write about.
A new toy!
I hope you like the Projectplaylist music player I installed. Especially since it took two sessions of about two hours each. Katie can attest to the second session. When I figured out what was wrong I felt like I had just rebuilt an entire engine and found out the only thing wrong was I was out of gas. Seems I had never gotten "NEW" blogger. I just had to update. You know, pick a new template so that it updates. Like I say at work all the time, I wish they would quit doing me the favor of trying to make things easier for me. I'm waiting for the day when "they" tell us that our computers will now be controlled by our thoughtwaves. All it takes is a hardware installation. Just log in to newcomputer. whatever and insert your brain in your hard drive. The do it yourself kit is just $999.95! For a tech to come to your house and install it..... well, we know how well that works.
Anyway, enjoy!
Anyway, enjoy!
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