Caroling Spectacular

It's dark outside when hark: what light through yonder window breaks? It is the flashing of red lights and it is close. Like other onlookers in times of emergency, I step out the front door only to discover a firetruck going very slowly in front of my house. I know there's no fire here -- or none that I'm aware of. I look next door for smoke and listen in the neighborhood for cries of fear or loss. All is calm. The truck is bright. No siren, just the bright red lights as it meanders at about 5 mph down the street, down my street. And then I hear it . . . Christmas carols and the jingling of bells. The volunteer fire department is going down every street in its precinct and bringing a little joy to our world. What a special way to spread some Christmas cheer. I just hope there are no emergencies tonight.

And so this is Christmas . . .

The temperature is above 80. The girls and I went down to the Lake yesterday and sat in the sun on the beach. We had a picnic of blueberries and tangerines and some coldcuts. They were dressed in shorts and tank tops. When the church kids come for their "fun club" this afternoon, they are all going to want to play outside on the playground. A woman doing community service at our church almost passed out this morning from heat exhaustion after working on the playground, raking pine needles. I'm wearing a very thin 3/4 sleeve shirt and am sweating here in the office. The golf courses are full. I'm wondering if I shouldn't go turn the A/C on. I've got it running at my house so it will be cool when I return. The ladies around here are dressed in short-sleeved snowflake printed shirts. And the lights are glowing each night around the palm trees. And so this is Christmas.

The E-mail I Did Not Receive

Today I went to the "tea room" with the fellowship committee at my church. The fellowship committee is basically responsible for finding people to make and serve all of the food we eat at the church for whatever cause. Typically they are responsible for cookies after church and we've really improved since I got here 4ish year ago. It used to be people would bring storebought cookies and now people are starting to bake again. There is SUCH a difference! (speaking of which, I still need to get you the coconut recipe, Dixie! Sorry!) Anyway, every year they go out to lunch to celebrate the Christmas season. Everyone dons their Merries and heads over to a girly-ish kind of place (spouses come along and sit at their own table). They always invite the pastor (a nice gesture) and pay for my food (a really nice gesture). Then they exchange gifts. In the past they've each brought a gift for everyone at the table (exhausting) but in the last year everyone has brought one $5 gift and we've drawn numbers to see who gets which gift. With the other money they would normally spend they donate it to a needy family in the community. I'm proud of them -- for enjoying each other and celebrating while also recognizing that it's not all about them. And the cool thing is, I received some pretty cool Santa mixing bowls and got to eat spinach quiche (my favorite!), cheesy potatoes, raspberry jello salad, a cinnamin muffin, and peach tea. MMMMM! Yummy!

But by the title of this thing you can see that the lunch is not the topic du jour. I was asked by the 93 year old woman on the committee (people serve a long time on committees in FL) if I received her e-mail (people are also quite technologically savvy at older ages in FL). I didn't even realize that this woman HAD an e-mail address. Further, she has macular degeneration so I didn't know she would even be able to read on the computer. (Come to think about it, she also drove to the tea room and I didn't realize she could do that either. She always requests a large print bulletin on Sunday morning. Hmmm) But the thing is, I HAVEN'T received an e-mail from her. I don't know if she even sent it to the right e-mail address, but I have a thing about avoiding confrontations with people over 90. I just don't like to upset them in any way. And so I told her I would double check, knowing that I never received her e-mail. Now I'm wondering how to ask her to try to resend an e-mail and I'm wondering how many other people have tried to send an e-mail and it hasn't gone through but they think I'm ignoring them because I'm not replying. She assures me she ALWAYS gets a returned e-mail if it doesn't go through, but what if it was sent to the wrong address? OK, I know I'm overreacting here, but I'm having way too much fun with it. There's just something about old people doing younger people things that just makes me smile -- like the 76 year old woman who was tellling me tonight how annoyed she was getting at the man down the street who walks by her house daily to tell her how LONELY he is. She finally told him to get a dog! What a riot!

Well, I'm letting the girls paint each others' toenails for the first time. I'd better go see what color the floor is.

Small Town Christmas

The first year I attended the Sebring Christmas parade, having spent the previous 10-15 years in Nashville, TN, I was appalled and slightly embarrassed by all of the rigamarole. Sure, it was cool that the kids got to march with their dance class or ride on a "float" but I had never envisioned "float" to be synonymous with SUV pulling hay trailor with some tinsel stapled to the side and hand-written signs announcing the company that was being advertised. This, however, is my 4th Christmas parade here and I absolutely love it. Last night my friend pulled up a lawn chair for me right in front of the police station and I sat, waiting expectantly for the small town extravaganza. I was not disappointed. Led by a screaming police car siren and the colorguard I stood reverently (thanks to the prompting of my friend who was raised in an era where not standing before the flag was taboo) and then sat back down to watch hometown creativity coming to life. The middle school DARE group shouted their motto to stay off drugs while grouping together in cliquish marching groups. The county commissioners waved from the back of convertibles donated for the occasion by the largest car salesman in town. The radio station (there's only one local station) float blew bubbles into the air (FL snow, I believe they were trying to simulate) and the local paper was led by 6 alpacas with reindeer antlers attached. The 4-H groups led well-brushed dogs and a wagon with bunnies in cages followed by a float with pigs. And, of course, every schools marching band was represented with dance teams and a couple of churches. The community church sported an amped up (in many ways?) music director singing carols with an electric guitar though I didn't see the church I saw last year with the giant white cross AND nativity on the trailer bed. A man dressed up quite elf-ishly with a guitar and amp on his back as he roller bladed the streets of downtown. All in all, it was wonderful. I can't imagine anything drawing community together more than homemade floats. Oh, and I forgot the many golf carts with strings of Christmas lights on them. It wouldn't be Christmas in FL without them. Where was my church? Well, as much as we're growing, we still haven't caught the "community spirit" that sets Sebring apart. We're kinda removed from the culture given our distance, and so we'll await another year to join in the festivities. So I just sat in my lawn chair with my sparkling Christmas vest on and watched my kids marching with their cheer team just as proud as pie (because that's what you say in small town parades). And then, in the dark, I walked two blocks by myself in the downtown to the post-parade party at the girls' gym. What a wonderful night!

A Good Wholesome Christmas

For Christmas, my mom and I pooled together some money and gave me and my family a clean house -- a woman came to clean my house last Saturday and Sunday and did more than just mop and dust and vacuum. She also cleaned out closets, threw out accumulated trash, washed the backlog of laundry, and organized here and there. My house feels so joyful right now and I had no idea how HUGE the master bedroom was. She got rid of so much stuff that it echoes!

Because things are clean (and still clean 3 days later -- I am continuing to clean before it gets backed up) I am thinking of hosting a Christmas open house. I've never been able to do that before and I think it would be fun to plan with my children. But I want it to have a "spin" to it -- something that takes the emphasis off of the stress of the holiday and focuses on enjoying friends and family and/or giving to those in need, etc. I'm posting this because I would love your ideas to make this open house special. I'd invite the church members, the girls' friends and families, and others in the community we've just come to enjoy. Help me know how to word the invitations. ;o)

One of Many

It's been one of those weeks where I've been overwhelmed by the spiritual needs in my congregation/community. It's also been one of those weeks where I have felt that God is using me here. Today I met with one of my elders (leaders in the church who just happens to be in her 80s) who was feeling uncertain of her call because she is partially deaf and considers herself more a follower than a leader. We addressed her concerns and ultimately I reminded her that she was called by God and because she was committed to follow to the best of her ability, it would be good. Then another woman came in and told me that she feels God is directing her to do something and she doesn't know what and it's overwhelming her. She's newly retired and newly returned to the church and is doing some major spiritual work right now, wrestling with God about how to forgive and wondering why she is alive and what God wants of her. Then another woman came in and told me she had a creative idea for the children of the church and doesn't know where her ideas are coming from because she's never had a creative bone in her body but all of the sudden, at the age of 76ish, she wants to teach the children in a children's sermon. Then just as she was leaving, a man came in my office and began telling me that he doesn't understand why NOW because he's in the process of foreclosure on his house and his life is not exactly "happy" right now, but he feels that he is in the midst of seriously listening to God's call on his life and wondering how God can use him. Oh, and by the way, can he start a youth group at the church? And I wonder, as I listen to all of these people acknowledging their own commitment to God and willingness to follow, why I am considered their leader. Who am I that the title "Pastor" or "Spiritual Leader" appears on my door, my business card, the church sign? Who am I who doesn't even know how to pray for this church to receive confirmation of God's work here as not just one but MANY admit to me their call and desire to follow God in the world? Who am I? For I am tired and rebellious and stubborn and sloppy and wishy washy. Yet I am so blessed to watch this renewal in the church, to watch as people turn their lives over to Christ not just for a day but for a lifetime. And so, as I headed over to the hospital this evening to visit a man who, I believe, has a body that is ready to die, I wondered how to pray, how to listen, how to hope with this family. And I asked this man how I should pray, wondering inwardly if he just wanted to finally let go. And his response to me was, well, "Rev. Katie, you just take my hand and start talking to God." And with a smile, he took my hand and I began to be his spiritual leader, even though his comment proved to me that he was truly one of my many ministers, just like the committed deaf doubting elder, the newly retired woman struck by God's call on her life, the 76ish lady with the new creative ideas, and the physically poor, spiritually rich man who would love to work with youth. Who am I? I guess I am just one of many ministers in this world. Perhaps God might just use us.

The LINKS

OK, so I think this is hilarious. But you'll notice in many of my posts there are words that are linked to something. I had forgotten that a while back I had set up Amazon to link to anything that resembled a book title (again, hoping to get you to link to Amazon from my site!) But the words they choose to link to (and the book titles that appear) are fabulous! So, if you are ever bored, click on the link (or better yet, just run your mouse over the link to see what book has been chosen!) It's a riot! Now I want to see what kinds of books appear with weird phrases like: My sister is pregnant with a baby boy. I'm going to be an aunt again. hiccup; in a trailer down by the river; motivational speakers; Hey, and speaking of motivational speakers, I was fascinated by Delmo's blog (my friend) which mentioned an NPR interview with Joel Osteen where they called him on the carpet for saying good things and attaching a Bible verse to it -- in other words, all talk, no substance. His response: well, it's helping people. What do you think? Is that enough? Hmmm . ..

I'm a cheer mom. I absolutely love it. You've heard of soccer moms, baseball moms, and even dance moms, but I'm a cheer mom. My kids spend 5 hours at the gym every week working on cartweels, roundoffs, back-handsprings, and they're even being introduced to back tucks. It's amazing at age 6 and 8 that they are capable of the discipline necessary for this sport. Yes, I called cheerleading a sport. No longer does cheerleading amount to a few "rah rahs" on the sidelines while looking cute. Now it requires intense gymnastics skills paired with dance and rhythm. Today my kids are competing in their first regional competition of the year. I wish I could be there, but part of the "problem" with competitions is that they frequently occur on Sundays, my day of work. I've come to accept it and to cheer them on from home. I'm including a picture of their whole team on the blog today. If you know my kids you'll find them on there. If you don't, just enjoy all of the cuties. I can proudly say that I made all of the bows for the gym (and now have to make all of the backup cheerbows) and the girls were really proud of their mommy. (my mom helped with the ironing so I'm really proud of MY mom). I also made the braided headband for the junior coach in the back. You never knew I was that talented, did you? I'm most impressed by the progress my kids are making. My youngest pulls her foot over her head in a stunt without even a flinch. My oldest is so close to sticking a back handspring on her own. And both of them give it all their best. OK, I'm rattling on. I'm just proud of my kids.

Fire Extinguishers

Why is it that when things are going so well, someone has to rain on the parade? My congregation is really growing right now. People are joining on a weekly basis and are excited about serving God in a loving church where it is obvious God is present by the actions of church members. In the past two years we've lost 13 members to death and have gained 27 new members. And we're still growing. Sure, there are those who have moved away but there are others who are coming in as friends. Life is a part of this church. Growth is a part of this church. So why is it, when there seems to be a fire sent by the Holy Spirit that is pushing people to look beyond themselves and reach out to their neighbors, that there is always a fire extinguisher? I had a meeting tonight to talk about how to invest some "extra" money that had come into the church and rather than celebrate, my fire extinguishers just wanted to focus on the fact that the church isn't growing fast enough and we might just need that money to get by. Have they not heard the vision I've been articulating over the past year? That we are choosing to live, even in times of difficulty? That we are not going to focus on our scarcity but rather on how we can be most generous with what we have? Why was it, when I suggested perhaps no matter how much money we had we would always feel that we needed more, that my fire extinguishers preferred to focus on what we still don't have? Are we lacking in anything? No. So why is it that we can't let go of some of what we have to give to others? Isn't that what it is all about? If nothing else, I think I may have lit a fire under them, giving them something to think about. I think I just needed to blog about this so I could decide not to let the fire extinguishers completely put the blaze out. They may not "get it," but fortunately, they're not the only ones in the church.

Escapism Theology

I teach a Bible Study to an ecumenical group of people aged 55+ in a high rise in town. There are about 10 people who meet with me weekly and I must say I enjoy them. Only 1 has any Presbyterian ties and he's the one who invited me to teach. The rest represent all kinds of denominations, including pentecostals, seventh-day adventists, methodists, "former" catholics, and other miscellaneous non-denominations. There have been times I haven't wanted to be the leader of this group -- like the time I was teaching about honoring Sabbath and realized that one in my group considered Sabbath-keeping one of the highest commandments to the exclusion of others, demanding that Saturday be kept or else . . . or the time when one of the people really wanted to make this a religious right political discussion when I have quickly recognized that ALL political views are represented in this group -- especially because this is a low income group. But there are other times when I truly recognize the spirit of God in this group -- like when we are disagreeing but choose to put aside our own passions to listen to the other and recognize that they too are trying to listen for God's word to them. This past week something stuck with me. One woman for whom I have a lot of respect, spoke up saying "when I die I don't want to be remembered as Sister B. who prophesied in church. I want to be remembered as one who showed God's love." This was especially poignant as the discussion ran away (as it does frequently) to the second coming and how we are finally going to get to escape all of these hardships. And then Sister B. spoke up: "I'm not ready for the second coming. I hurt for the many who do not know God's love. I just want to use every second I have to communicate this love and compassion to others." Her comment allowed the escapism theology to halt and opened the door for all of us to think. Another woman spoke up: "Everything we do -- how we spend everyday, every second -- is being recorded in the Lamb's Book of Life and I just want to have a clear conscience so every night, before I go to bed, I ask God's forgiveness for everything . . . " Until finally I could say what was on my mind -- "I think Sister B. is right. I think our salvation is intricately tied into the salvation of others. As long as we are thinking about what is going in the book of life about US, we are only thinking about ourselves. But when we are thinking about others, when we are loving others and showing compassion to others as only God through us can do, then we are extending the joy of our salvation to others. And I also believe that things aren't as hopeless as we confess. I believe that if we will listen to the Holy Spirit, God will show us how to speak and to whom we should speak in love. God will show us how to love in such a way that even those who are closed to the love of God can receive the gift of love that is offered to them." And as I said this and thought further about it, I really began to reflect on how our salvation is tied to the salvation of others. Sure, I believe that there is an individual part of salvation -- that we have to open ourselves up to receive, but I also believe that even that is impossible without the prodding of the Holy Spirit opening us to desire love and to be changed by it. But I am really beginning to think further about the communal part of salvation -- that we are to listen for God's words to us so that we know how to connect with others, knowing that the true connection is a gift from God, is Love itself. I may have to write more on this later, but I am seriously thinking about all of this and wondering how best to receive it myself so that the world can be changed.

Slim and Trim

She's 8 years old and she has already internalized what she is "supposed" to look like. Yesterday my daughter got her practice uniform for her cheerleading team and it included a tank top -- tight-fitted. She tried it on for me and it fit her perfectly and looked great (if only I had muscular arms like that!) but her mood immediately went sour. She only wants to wear clothes that hide her body. She doesn't like what she sees. I remember what I called my "ugly stage" and even now I can't look at my 4th grade picture without feeling the way I did then. But my daughter isn't ugly. She's beautiful. She doesn't have a Barbie body and doesn't even fit the "normal" on the doctor's weight chart, but she's healthy, she's athletic, and she's beautiful. She spends 5 hours tumbling at the gym each week so her legs and arms are gorgeous. I don't think the older people at my church know what it does to her when they say (as I heard one say this week) "Don't you want to be slim and trim?" Geesh, undo everything I'm trying to instill in her about being healthy!!!! No, she doesn't need to be slim and trim! She needs to be healthy and fit and happy about who she is. Her doctor says she's healthy. Her coach says she's fit. But thanks to those who think we all have the same body type, the same body weight expectations, the same hormonal surges, she isn't happy about who she is. I hate to say this, but I know that how she is feeling about herself is "normal" for a tweenage girl, but I don't like this US model of normal. All of those adages: "beauty is only skin deep" and "true beauty can be found within" may be true, but no one really gives a crap about such things in this world. Pretty people frequently get the jobs, the breaks, the kudos from all they come into contact with. They decide what is "popular" while the rest of us (the majority!) try to mold ourselves into their image. When will the image of God in each of us matter? When will our eyes be opened to the beauty that exists only because we are God's children? Raising girls is difficult in this crazy mixed up world. I just hope she can one day (soon!) recognize how beautiful she truly is.

Lonely Old People

I just finished reading my friend Dixie's blog about how he listened to an old woman talk non-stop today while he was eating lunch at the diner and it prompted me to write about a couple of conversations I had yesterday.

Yesterday was the first day I worked with my new secretary and she truly is a gem. She can carry on a few conversations, get busy work done, finish the checklist I've left for her while also sharing some wonderful ideas. She mentioned that Wednesday she had been at the doctor's office and was listening to the conversations in the waiting room. One man was bragging that he was the oldest in the room when a woman corrected him and admitted that she was 93. He changed the subject and began talking about the fact that his son was coming to visit and how excited he was to which the 93 year old replied, "how lovely it would be to have a visit to look forward to." My secretary was struck by this woman's loneliness and realized that she spoke the reality of many of the population of our town. She couldn't sleep last night and began to brainstorm how the church could meet this need of helping lonely old people.

My first thought was meals on wheels which we've been trying to start for over a year now. But I liked the idea she came up with -- why not start something akin to Big Brothers and Big Sisters only for older people? Match people according to interests and let them form local friendships. I really liked the idea. For one thing, I have several in my congregation who are independent enough but are widowed and need something like this to keep them busy. I have others who just yearn to be visited by someone. They can no longer get out much and they just desire some attention. I thanked my secretary for the idea and I'm going to begin to toss the idea around with some of the congregational leaders. I think it could be a wonderful outreach ministry!

But as she shared this story, I remembered that I had promised one of our shut-ins that I would spend some time with her that day. Somehow amid all of the self-made busy-ness, I had almost forgotten her. I stopped by her home and was greeted by a huge smile and a "I was hoping you wouldn't forget!" And while I usually do most of the talking with her, she must have talked a mile a minute. She shared memories of her garden -- the many flowers and vegetables she and her husband had raised. She told me about taming wild animals and seeing many others at work on her garden. And she smiled and laughed. She even showed me pictures of her great granddaughter who had surprise-visited her a month ago. Because she was happy sharing her story, I too was happy, though I did get a little fidgety. (It was a bit difficult for me to be IN that moment.) And she told me she had almost called and invited me to lunch that day. I told her I had eaten alone and had wondered who I should share lunch with. Next time I know to call on her and I think it will allow both of us to discover that God is there, between the two or three who are gathered.

In-Laws

I love my in-laws. It's not everybody who can say that, but I truly have great in-laws. They came to visit for the whole week which is making my kids very happy. They've taken the kids shopping, surprised them with halloween candy and spoiled them with little presents here and there. They've taken us out to eat a couple of times and we've taken them out once. Today I returned to work after my 2 day hiatus and ended up having to work longer than I had expected. They had agreed to keep the kids until 3:30ish, but I had to ask them to spend grandparent time until 7. They loved it (as did the kids) and I came home to a clean kitchen and a meal on the table, not to mention happy kids whose grandparents were their school teachers today. They only come to visit once a year, and it's just right. They don't get in my way and I don't get in theirs, yet they are helpful to have around. My mother-in-law even asked if she could do some laundry for me tomorrow. I'm not proud. I just beamed and replied "YEEESSSS!" and told her she could help fold some clean clothes I have too. She looked happy to help. Now, most people I wouldn't ask this of, but she LOVES to clean and so when she offers I gladly nod my head. I still need help. But tonight my sink is clean and the dishes are done and the table has been wiped down. She even had the kids sweep the floor and straighten up the living room. I love my in-laws!

A Jumble of Events

Just wanted to check in and let all of my readers know what's up right now. First, we began stewardship season today and I think it's going to be a great season. Everything is upbeat and our stewardship committee is creative and optimistic. What a wonderful change from a few years ago! Second, we received 4 new members this morning! Woo Hoo! That's 6 in the last 3 weeks! Next week I know we'll be receiving ANOTHER one!!! Something is happening here . . . finally! It's a lot of fun to be the pastor when things are going well. I'm not going to dwell here, but I am going to enjoy it while things are going well! Third, we hired a secretary today and I really like her! Granted, we've not worked together yet, but she's quiet, not needy, and quite competent. She already knows many in the congregation -- young and old -- because she lives in the community. She's in her 60s but appears to be in great health, is computer literate, creative, organized, etc. I hope the next 90 days are as good as I hope they will be! Fourth, my in-laws are here so I've taken off Monday and Tuesday to spend some time with a couple of Tennesseans. Today we went out for ice cream and hot dogs at the new, "great place to hang out" in Sebring -- Cones & Coneys. (Note to Sebring-ians: the sugar free ice cream is as heavenly as the "real" stuff and the Chicago hot dog is out of this world!) We also went to the mall and grandma bought the girls lots of clothes (which they needed) and we had a fun day all-around. The in-laws are staying at the Kenilworth Lodge and it really is a fun, old-fashioned place to stay. It's over 100 years old and has the lobby of the olden days -- bookshelves from which to borrow a book, tables with puzzles to share with other guests, ping pong, ballrooms, front porch rockers overlooking the lake and of course the more modern central a/c, coffee around the clock, fitness room, large screen TV rooms, and wireless internet. It's a fun place to stay if you ever come visit. It's the first time I've gone in there with "tourist" eyes.

Well, that's the news from Arbuckle Creek, where the love bugs spend their days ramming into countless windshields, the "northerners" crowd the doctors' waiting rooms, and "country radio top 40" has not been updated in at least 2 years.

Homemade Bread and Creative Sermons

I got creative today and I was so proud of myself. It was Worldwide Communion today and I wanted to do something to help people remember it without having them sing in a foreign language and feel kind of awkward. And so, there were two "themes" of this worship service. The first was the Lord's Prayer, with the hope that by the end of the service people would feel and remember that they were praying with people around the world in multiple languages. The second was Bread.

My organist is also a foreign language teacher and an amazing linguist, so he agreed to pray the Lord's Prayer in French and in Russian. I rustled up those years in college devoted to Koine Greek and prayed the Lord's Prayer in Greek and also in Spanish. The prayers were interspersed throughout the service, but always, we told people what we were praying so that, even in other languages, we could pray together. I wasn't quite sure how it would come together, but it was obvious that God was there, in the midst of our unity and in the midst of cultural diversity as we realized we were not alone in our prayers or in our claim to Christianity.

I had also found a resource that encouraged people to remember the many cultures with which we were celebrating the sacrament of the Lord's Supper by utilizing breads from around the world. A church member made Spicy Tea bread from Ethiopia. Another brought in honey wheat bread and we remembered another culture. Another brought in pita bread and we remembered the war going on in the middle east. Another brought in peasant bread and we remembered the poor who are among us. Another brought in unleavened bread and we remembered those in Syria. Then we all started naming bread that wasn't there and extending our memory to those who we should share in our celebration of Christ's death and resurrection. Tortillas, Cuban bread, Hawaiian bread, and others were named and suddenly, we, who were many, realized we were one in Christ. All of the breads were on the communion table. I wish I had a picture of it because it truly was beautiful.

The last thing I did was set up a card table with two bowls of dough -- one with yeast and one without. I also woke up really early this morning and baked two loaves of dough -- one with yeast and one without. All of this sat on the table and I donned my apron as I began the sermon, talking about disciples not wanting to forgive each other but rather wanting to have their faith grow. Jesus said, if you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can do great things. I preached on having faith the size of a little yeast -- enough to change the dough, to make it into something gloriously different -- lighter. And I explained that Jesus was telling them that they DID have the faith of a mustard seed and because of that, they couldn't use a lack of faith as an excuse for forgiving those who repeatedly sinned against them. I told my congregation that I believed that they did actually have the faith of a little yeast and that they could forgive - that they didn't need any excuses. And then I finished the Luke 17 pericope telling them that when they did what they were supposed to (forgiving sins, using the faith that had been given to them) they/we don't need to run back to God and ask for a little acknowledgment. We are rather to realize that it is our duty to forgive the annoying and unforgivable; it is our duty to love the unlovable; it is our duty to commune with those who are different from us. It is our duty to be the body of Christ. One bread -- many parts -- flour, water, sugar, oil, yeast -- without the yeast there is something lacking. Just as we are one body -- the body of Christ -- many parts held together by faith.

It was a wonderful Sunday!

On the Back of My Car

I'll have to get a picture for you later, but in the meantime I'll explain it. On the back of my car, my husband, a compassionate environmentalist among other things, slapped a magnet which he had procured from the Vet's office. It's a big paw print around which is printed: "Save Lives! Spay and Neuter" One of my parishioners approached me one day and told me she thinks that is one of the funniest things she has ever seen on a pastor's car. I had never considered the context!

A Real Town

Today, the best thing in the whole world happened. We got a bookstore. Books A Million opened today in all of its splendor and glory. It seems too good to be true. All of this time I've been taking deep meditative breaths to calm myself so that I can stay in this little town connected to the world of books by a tiny cable linking me to the glorious Amazon.com (please link from my site!), but now I can officially browse in person. I went in today, opening day, and felt that all was well with my soul. The little coffee bar sat off to the side and the rows and rows of new, non-dusty books brought color to my cheeks. The entire right hand side of the store (or at least 3/4 of it) was covered in children's books and an additional 4 aisles of children's books presented me with wonderful historical autobiographies like Who Was Johnny Appleseed? and other such books that every child needs to have. My youngest sat down and began reading immediately, carefully turning the pages of books we won't buy. My oldest browsed as intensely as her parents had taught her, reading story summaries and series openers, studying content and asking questions about classics like Black Beauty, The Hobbit, & The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Oh, life is good in the swamplands of Florida! Our new shopping center also has a crafts store, a shoe store, a discount clothing store (without many discounts), and a Panera Bread Company. I indulged in a Portobella and Mozzarella Panini that was to die for and how happy I was when my daughter was able to order an organic chocolate milk. Of course, now that we have "arrived" I can still order for less online and I probaby will. (I so enjoy being "surprised" by packages arriving at my doorstep!) I'll also frequent our local used bookstore where I typically find all kinds of sappy love stories begging me to read them. After all, I believe in giving mom & pop stores a lot of business. But occasionally it's nice to know that I can splurge and pretend that I am not living on the end of the earth, far removed from chain stores (or stores of any kind for that matter.) The other good thing that is happening around here is that our northerners are beginning to come back, meaning our roads will soon be crowded with people who shouldn't be on the road but are because they crave their own independence over any one else's safety. Whoops! I think I said the other "good" thing that is happening . . . well, SINCE the northerners are returning, our produce stand officially reopened today. As I drove down the road, my eldest daughter let out a "whoop!" for fresh produce. Ahh, my dear sweet darlin'!

So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where the population doubles when October rolls around, the community gathers for Bookstore openings, and children still watch for alligators in their backyards. (the local community paper -- 8 pages/month! -- told us that a 12 footer had been removed from our canals! Yikes!)

Ramblings

I had no idea it had been a week since I've posted. Geesh, I've become a slacker! It HAS been a busy week - lots of church members in the hospital and even more people walking into my office needing to talk. To tell you the truth, I can't remember the last time my office time was so full. One day I was meeting with someone who wanted to plan his own funeral (and I really respect those who want to have everything together ahead of time. He is nowhere near death as far as I can see, but it's still a very heavy subject!) While he was there, another person who had visited the church wanted to talk. She's living with her son because she had become homeless as a FL real estate agent. The market is that stale right now. But she also talked a lot about her own faith and what she believed was a call into ministry. I appreciated her openness with me and her trust. Later in the week I spoke with a parent of a very sick child and calmed her fears and worries. Our children's program started and was pure chaos. Then a church member threatened to leave the church if something couldn't be worked out. By the time she and I met the next day, she had calmed down and just wanted to sit and listen for God in her life. Our conversation was peaceful after what had been a really intense anger from her. Problem after problem after problem. But you know what really troubled me was that this woman said to me that she couldn't read me -- that I was closed in some way. And I've been thinking about what it could be . . . why she would feel that. I feel I'm pretty transparent most of the time, but maybe I'm not with my own congregation. There's a part of me that tries to keep my own life separate from the needs and concerns of my congregation. It's one of those 'boundary' things -- as muct as I'm immersed in their lives, I need people outside the church to be my confidants, to be my friends. I'm wondering if perhaps I need to be more transparent with them. Most people open up to me easily (as seen by this week's fullness) but I'm starting to wonder where the line is or where it should be drawn.

I'd appreciate your responses for this Arbuckle Creek dweller. I think I'm going to head into town where the Books A Million is scheduled to open any day now! Peace.

Joy and Its Opposites

I didn't have to preach today and it was WONDERFUL! I still had the opportunity to lead worship via the liturgy and to surround my congregation in prayer, but I didn't have to preach. In the Presbyterian Church (USA), churches without pastors are to observe their candidates for their pastorate from a neutral pulpit. My church was the neutral pulpit and it was so refreshing to hear the scriptural story told from a different point of view. I got to do this a few weeks ago with my friends in California, but it was really nice to experience this in my own congregation. While I "robed up" and sat in the chancel, I got to share worship leadership with someone else. It felt really good. The other part that felt good was that he was right out of seminary and I was the "elder" -- at least in terms of experience (I couldn't tell how old he was.)

But, with the joy of my Sabbath from preaching, I also learned that three of my parishioners had been hospitalized Friday and Saturday. Some people just don't call their pastor or anyone else because they don't want to ruin our weekends. But, as I was bursting with joy, the weight of their sorrow lay heavy on me. I went to visit them right after church and was struck by their fear. One was the man with the pacemaker I had mentioned in a previous post. He had finally gotten a better pacemaker and it kicked him this weekend. Within six weeks he's gone from an active participant in our church and a great genealogist to a man who lays still in bed, afraid he will die. And with the number of heart attacks he's had in the last 6 weeks, it really is a miracle he is still alive. But I don't want him to go. As I stood by his bed in the ICU, I was able to utter "God be with you 'til we meet again" but couldn't bring myself to ask him if he needed to talk about death. It was the elephant in the room with us, hovering. We didn't want to speak it into existence yet both of us knew that it was close, even if it was held at bay. I just want him well! And I've come to love my parishioners so much over these years. I don't want to see another die. The other two were not as critical, but both were afraid and both had wives who were exhausted from spending the night in the ER. I was struck by the many opposites of the Joy I had felt earlier in the day: fear, pain, suffering, exhaustion, sorrow, and the list continues. And so I pray.

Rainbows

I was driving back today from town when I caught sight of one of the largest rainbows I've ever seen. It stretched from one lake to another and filled the whole sky with beauty. It was full of bright pastels and, as I pulled back into my own little village, I noticed that it was a double rainbow. Whenever I see a rainbow I try to remember God's promises to us, the blessing of life, the fortune of being able to live a life where I can take time to notice rainbows. But I also found myself, as the AM station in my car was tuned to the Tennessee/Florida game, pretending that God's promises were only for me and my beloved Tennessee team as they were getting eaten alive by those hungry Florida Gators. As that thought passed through my mind I began to laugh. For while I do believe God cares about the intricately important details of each of our lives while also responding to the large scale concerns of the earth and the universe, I don't expect God to intervene in a playoff between two teams. I don't envision God choosing the team that will win based upon the number of believers in either of the cheering stands. Nor do I envision God choosing the team that will win based upon the authenticity of the pre-game prayer. Nor, despite what I heard a couple of nuns saying about their NBA favorites to the NPR anchor, do I believe that screaming prayers at the TV screen will make a heck of a lot of difference. But I do believe in God's promises -- like "I will be with you until the end of the age." I do believe that God cares about our emotions whether they are well-founded or not. And I believe God walks beside us whether our team wins or loses the game, whether our minds win or lose their struggle with sanity, whether our country wins or loses a war, whether our earth wins or loses its fight to sustain life. And I guess I have to believe that . . . because Tennessee lost.

Compassion

I have a child in my community who is just so precious. She's 4 with an attitude and on many occasions I've sworn she's one of my own -- even looks like one of my kids. Her great-grandmother is raising her (she's in her late 60s, it's been a full life) as her mother is addicted to drugs and her father sexually abused her. However, the great-grandmother doesn't have custody of her because the little girl, thinking it would be a fun experiment, lied to the judge. I know she lied because she came out and announced at would have been the final custody hearing, "Grandma, I lied and everyone believed me!" She was so proud of herself, but now grandma continues to seek custody. The thing is, mother is coming back for her in the next few weeks and there's nothing grandma can do about it. The little girl has been sick for awhile and today went to the doctor. They believe she has syphillis which can be gotten only through sex or in the mother's birth canal. I love this little girl and her grandmother and I have so much compassion on her for the life she has already led. As you can guess, believing in a loving God is awfully hard for this 4 year old but she's trying. She wants to believe. But she's asking questions most of us don't even attempt to ask until we're in our teens or 20s -- questions like: where is God when bad things happen? and believing that there is no God because she has suffered so many atrocities. To her and her grandmother all I can reply is that God is holding them and loving them and crying great big tears for them. Because I ask the same questions in the face of such sadness. But believing that I am God's hands and feet, I also extend God's love to this little one and pray for her mother and father, that this sickness can end. And I cry for her too. That is, after all, what compassion is -- with passion.

Autumnal Ugliness

I love the fall, don't get me wrong, but here in Arbuckle Creek, FL it amounts to some breezes to offset the intense August heat that remains. I welcome the breezes, but I do NOT (yes, I realize I screamed "not") welcome plastic orange and yellow leaves used in decorating lawns. I drove by a house yesterday to see a mailbox covered in those ugly things. Sure they brighten up the block, but have they realized that they are living in FL, the home of the "green" autumn? Can't they see that plastic leaves are truly a mixed metaphor in this setting? I was fine with the scarecrow in their front yard. After all we do have hay around here and even some crow-like birds. Pumpkins also are fine. But please, excuse me if I avert my eyes when coming face to face with false-y leaves. I am so embarrassed!

In my "spare" time

I know, I know, pastors just don't have spare time. And when the pastor also homeschools her kids, "spare" time is even harder to come by. But here's the thing . . . I feel very strong about taking care of myself and one way I do that is through my hobbie, bow making. It's quick and easy and fun and I have something to show for my time within minutes (unlike sermons which take a bit more preparation). I get instant gratification, so to speak, when I can twist a bow that I KNOW will make a little girl happy. This year is my second year of being asked to make the cheerleading competition bows for my girls' gym. I've been asked to make 150 of these babies and I just finished my first one. I'm really proud of it because it's a new technique and I think it looks AWESOME.
These buggers are BIG! The greatest thing going in cheerleading competitions are Texas-sized bows and that's what I'm making. The crazy thing is that these guys retail for $20 each. You do the math for 150 of these. It's NOT cheap! Which is why it's so fun for me to do. Sure, I have regular pastor things to do like visiting, attending meetings (a bunch this week including one out of town), guiding leaders, Bible study, preparing and presenting each Sunday's service, and then I have the typical homeschool crazy schedule which includes 4 hours/day teaching my kids, but when it's finally "me" time, this is what I enjoy. (I also weave headbands now and that's really fun too!) I may have a lot more "me" time this week if I don't get well. That swollen gland beneath my jaw is really tender today and I also have a bit of a sore throat and a low grade fever. I'd appreciate your prayers.

This is the news from Arbuckle Creek where the pastor withholds hugs when she doesn't feel well, the hospitals don't call to tell you when a parishioner is in the hospital (that's HIPPA for you!) and there's a gator trap in the canal behind the pastor's house (that happens when there's a big one lurking)

Dental Work

About 2 days ago I noticed my gums on one side of my lower jaw were swelling a bit. Typically I find that the waterpik takes care of getting out whatever food has slipped below the gums and everything settles down, but today, Saturday, I woke up with a swollen gland as well. Not good. I went to WebMD to self-diagnose and discovered it was most likely a dental abscess or the mumps. Being that I've been vaccinated against the mumps, I decided to call my dentist on a Saturday. Fortunately for me my dentist is my dad and is only an hour and a half away. Given the tooth that had started it all, he was pretty sure I would need a root canal and since I've never had one of those, I wasn't too excited about the prospects . . . especially on a Saturday. So the girls and I loaded up to go visit nana and grindaddy and they were psyched and I was . . . well, . . . not so psyched. So dad took me apart -- numbing my entire lower jaw (imagine what he did when I was a teenager giving him grief!!! just kidding . . . ) and taking x-rays which showed nothing. Then he decides to look in the filled cavity to see if perhaps something there would be able to be drained. After drilling half of my tooth to remove my very large filling, he discovers nothing new stumping him (and that's hard to do since he's been in practice over 30 years). He consults with another dentist in his building (also working on Saturday) and he too is stumped. So now I'm on antibiotics, hoping to rid my body of this crazy swelling. A part of me is wishing it might be mumps so I don't have to preach tomorrow, but that's a pretty lame request, isn't it? I really don't feel like suffering and all. The good part is that I got to spend some time with my family and we even got a day of homeschooling done at Nana's (they've had some time off since I've been away so we're playing catch up.) Here's hoping I heal quickly. DH insists I look like I have a goiter with this swollen gland (he's so romantic!)

Oh, and while I'm talking about my hometown, let me tell you that they've torn down all of their old schools and built humongous schools -- the elementary school looks like a fine hotel; the middle school looks like a junior college; and the high school looks like a full service college. It's unbelievable. It's also a bit uncomfortable for me. I am sure these are wonderful monuments of learning for the children in that county, but I can't help but think that two counties over, we do not have the money to establish such landmarks. And maybe that's OK. After all, we just converted the old Food Lion supermarket into the kindergarten learning center. We're "recycling" rather than "rebuilding" and there is something to be said for that too. FL is notorious for tearing down and building things that are bigger and better, but sometimes I wonder if bigger and newer IS necessarily better. Just something going on in my Arbuckle Creek-ish mind.

For this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where the schools are still standing, the golf carts have headlights at night, and the women gossip excessively while watching their children in sports.

I'm Back! and Books

Well, I had the time of my life (sing along if you'd like!) San Francisco and its neighboring counties was a dream. It was so "me." Sustainability of the earth was a "given" in all that was around us. The health of humanity was also important. Respecting religious differences was apparent. And, yes, I was surrounded by friends. We stayed at a retreat center near Occidental, CA that, when serving children, offered whole wheat hot dog buns (we here in Arbuckle Creek assume that children only enjoy white flour.) We had fresh garden salads and vegetables everyday, and although Arbuckle Creek is a strong agricultural locale, I've never tasted anything as fresh and flavorful as these vegetables. Nothing was "fried" in the traditional southern sense that sometimes makes its way into the FL non-south. "Fried" meant simply "crusted" and baked. Everything was organic, even the coffee (fair trade as well) and the baked goods at the bakery we stopped at on the way to the airport. Everyone recycled without giving it a second thought. We worshiped Episcopal style on Sunday at St. Gregory of Nyssa with the Dancing Saints. It was a Christian church with hints of hinduism, judaism, and buddhism mixed in. Very interesting and extremely welcoming. In San Francisco I got to visit a farmer's market and a craft fair while also riding the BART and visiting City Lights bookstore. The Golden Gate bridge was beautiful as was the countryside. We even visited the Pacific and about froze to death Labor Day evening. Best of all, of course, were those amazing friends I had mentioned. Together we worshiped and shared communion in our special community. Together we shared the depths of our lives and together we emerged more refreshed than we had started our week together. Mostly, we played together and I can't tell you how important that was to me. It's been hard these last couple of days to settle back into Arbuckle Creek where no one has changed and where many of the wonders I experienced were in sharp contrast to my daily reality (which is probably also why I appreciated them so much). But my family is here and I did miss them (and they me) so I guess it's also a good thing to come home.

On to other topics. While on the plane (and in airports -- my first plane had been cancelled so I literally spent ALL day in/around planes) I had the privilege to read Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons . It too told the stories of friends through lifes' many changes and I couldn't help but resonate as I was headed off to visit my friends. It's difficult to make true friends as adults and I honestly believe that these people are blessings from God. The book spoke to the wonder of friendships while also addressing many levels of trust and personal growth. My friends and I are kind of "growing up" together as we embrace our vocational calling. Together we reflected on Parker Palmer's book Let Your Life Speak and all of us resonated at some level with the difficulty of discovering who we were called to be. Vocation is difficult at all stages in life and in all working realms of life. Not all of us are practicing pastors right now, yet all of us touched on the desire to be called to something that was purely "ours." On the way home I finished up the 3rd book in Angie Sage's children's series called Physik and enjoyed every minute of it. I LOVE books.


So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek where the library is way too small, "recycling" means giving things to the church flea market and the cost of fuel is not a penny less than San Francisco, CA.

Friends

Today I board a plane to San Francisco to study with 17 other clergy. These are probably some of my best friends in the world and I have that child-before-Christmas sense of time fluttering in my belly. It's been over a year since I've seen most of these friends and honestly, I can't wait.

We met on a study grant through the First Parish Project 3 years ago. Most of us, at that time, were serving as solo pastors of our first church -- and most of us had served less than 1 year. We boarded planes from all over the country, hoping above all hopes that the other 18 of us would not look or act clergy-ish. We should not have fret. Upon arriving at the airport, we discovered a bunch of 20-ish and 30-ish aged people, wearing blue jeans and birkenstocks. By the end of the first long weekend, we had weathered an unexpected hurricane in NC together and played 3 Lies and a Truth in the darkness when the storm kicked the electricity off. Since then we have gathered 6 times -- this marks the 7th. In each gathering we all leave our lonely jobs and gather with friends who understand the difficulties of ministry. We struggle with difficult congregation members, families who want more of our time, and parishioners pulling for that same time. We evaluate our calls into this low paying professional position on a daily basis. We share when our doubts seem stronger than our faith and when our faith is so strong we feel we will burst. And we laugh together -- deep belly laughs.

Friendships are hard to make in ministry. To pastor a church, especially in rural areas like Arbuckle Creek, requires that we frequently sequester ourselves within our little faith communities and come out for air only to have a reputation as the pastor of a community (for good or for ill). Friendships are rare gifts, and while I have finally made some true friends in Arbuckle Creek, they are rare gems. So think about me this week (if anyone reads this blog besides other FPP-ers!) for I plan to have the time of my life learning and studying, yes, but also playing with my friends.

The Haunted Scrub Bush

OK, don't think I'm crazy or anything, but I think there is a haunted scrub bush across the street from my house. Across the street is a large, open field with one absolutely beautiful Live Oak tree, moss hanging all the way to the ground. My children call it fairyland because when you're under the tree it's as if you are in a magical wonder world. But there is a plant under the tree with great big tall leaves. I don't know what kind it is, but I do know that no matter how still the air is, the plants leaves wave at me. It's eerie, you know? Summer heat is especially heavy and still. I'll be walking the dog and look under the tree and there, waving at me, is the haunted plant. The leaves on the tree are not even wiggling. The flag next door is hanging limp on its pole. The palm tree in my yard stands stiffly, as if waiting for something to come along and whisper into it. But that plant acts as if it were "alive" in the human sense. At first I thought maybe some birds were under the plant or perhaps a garden snake lived under its canopy, but for the movement to continue day after day makes me think that perhaps it's "something" else. It doesn't scare me the way it would if a snake slithered out of it, but it does give me cause to think. Who is there? And why are they waving at me? Should I remove my shoes like Moses before the burning bush and listen for some wonderful revelation? Should I even come near? I keep my distance, offering it some respect, I suppose. In the meantime I'll just watch with perhaps a bit of fear and trembling and smile as I consider probable cause.

And this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!), the pastors consider the source of haunted plants, and the children watch for gators in their backyards.

The Highlands Little Theatre

We got to see "Once Upon A Mattress" tonight at the Highlands Little Theatre. It was SO MUCH FUN!!!! I haven't been to a live musical in so long and I had forgotten how much I enjoy theatre. This cast had so much fun together . . . it was obvious. To make it even better, the girls' cheerleading coach had the lead role. (remember, I told you that in small places there are connections everywhere?!) The kids thought that was the BEST thing in the world.

My neighbors had gone to the Little Theatre for another show and their experience wasn't quite as positive. Apparently the guy in the lounge couldn't open the wine bottle (and to see my neighbor act it out was probably more entertaining than the show they went to see!) Our one piece of negative feedback was that the ushers seated us at a table but they kept changing where we sat because they couldn't read the room/table map so we played musical chairs for awhile. Just one of the reminders that it was a rural community theatre. But tonight they put on a grand show that made me proud of our little town. It's true, we found CULTURE in our town! Shh! Don't tell anybody . . . they might take it away!

For thus are the ways of Arbuckle Creek where culture amounts to concerts in the state park with less that ideal talent and a cup of "java" means day old Folgers at the Circle K.

Yet Another Great Sebring Hang Out!

It's true! I've discovered another social hang out amidst the wasteland. Well, it's not really wasteland . . . just swampland but anyhoo! I can't believe I hadn't put it in my "top 4" in the earlier post because seriously, during the school year, it is THE place to be. The EDGE Cheer Center is my second home (or maybe my 3rd since I spend an awful lot of time at the church). My girls are cheerleaders and lest you "poo poo" this sport with your conception of flirty girls in short skirts with pom poms and absolutely no talent, let me tell you, this place makes the kids WORK! It's a real sport complete with conditioning, running laps, push ups (the boy kind) sit ups and other ab crunches, tumbling passes that are on their way to the Nadia Comeniche level, and little people thrown up in the air in tight muscled jumps and caught by a couple other little people on the ground. This is not your grandma's cheerleading squad! (Potatoes! Tomatoes! Beans & Squash! Navasota Navasota Yes, by Gosh!) No, this is a team sport that requires skill, not looks (though a big smile does help). Just recently, they decided to call cheerleading a sport (finally) (though why they took tennis off the list I'll never know because it too requires skill.) So, now that I have completely gone off on a tangent, I'll return to the social reason for my writing. The EDGE Cheer Center is a great social hangout -- not just for the kids who, whether they are a part of a team or just love to play in the gym, can "hang out" at open gym on Wednesdays and Fridays or whether you are a parent who loves to watch your kid and cheer them on exuberantly (or in my case, cheer on the inside while giving a thumbs up) this is the place to be. I should know, I spent 2 1/2 hours there today and now my kids are sleeping like babies. The coach is awesome with the desire to inspire the kids while keeping everything (music and uniforms included) nice and "clean." With little ones starting tumbling at age 3, teaching respect for others is a key element and so I applaud our all-star cheerleaders and recommend this place HIGHLY to Arbuckle Creek neighbors (Sebring included).

So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (Beef, it's what's for dinner!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards (and sometimes play in the sandpits on the golf course! I saw that the other day! Adorable!)

Lovin' the Homeschooling Life!

Today was the first day of school. On Mondays I get to be with my kids all morning before going to work in the afternoon/evening. Neither one of them went to bed easily last night so I let them sleep in this morning. While other parents in Arbuckle Creek were fighting their children in their semi-exhausted states (the bus comes by at 6:40 AM!!!), I let them sleep in. When they woke up, they were happy children, ready to learn. This morning we spent an hour on spirituality which is actually a year's study on how to listen to God. They loved it and it incorporated other parts of our curriculum too like reading and art. Sometimes it will even include writing. I never expected to see my 6 year old reading a Bible, but she picked up The Growing Readers Phonics Bible and started reading the first story -- part 1 of creation. She liked it so much she kept reading. "Just for fun" she read through the story of Noah and the Ark. Way cool! Then I spent time on math with my 3rd grader, grammar with my 1st grader, handwriting with both of them, and they each got to start a science project: watching the feeding habits of the many birds behind our house. We have a bunch of cranes, herons, and other cool birds, some of which are endangered so it's fascinating to watch them feast every morning on fish and mosquitoes. Occasionally I'll even see a morning hawk or owl pick up a mouse and fly off.

There's still much more to cover, but there's no rush. We'll move at the pace we're ready for. I wasn't sure how this was going to go -- I'm a planner by nature and couldn't imagine not "getting it all done" each day, but I can see now that you can't plan it that easily. There will be days when math takes five minutes and other days we'll need to spend an hour on it. There will be days when the spelling words are simple and other days when we have to "unlearn" a wrong spelling in our heads. There will be days when art is coloring and other days when it is designing. And so my goal is to just "go with the flow" paying attention to their moods, etc.

This afternoon they go back to cheerleading with their team so I'll make a mark by "P.E." Tonight we'll read a book together. Wednesday we're going to watch a play at the little theatre (visual arts) and Friday the Caladium Festival will be coming to town in our locality so we'll learn about caladiums (science -- they're BEAUTIFUL leafy plants if you're not familiar with them) and observe the local artists (again, visual arts.)

I'm beginning to see that the possibilities are endless and I'm looking forward to their endless curiosity. In the meantime, they're supposed to be "resting" right now and I hear giggling. Hmmm . . . we may have to study the cultural practice of "siesta" in other countries . . .

And this is the news from Arbuckle Creek where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.

Praying for Life

Today one of my parishioners was rushed by ambulance to the ER. We had just had a lovely conversation at church, then I get a call, not 2 hours after the end of the service, that his defibrillator went off three times in 15 minutes. Not good. I met him in the ER and he was scared as was his wife. I was scared for him. I'm used to people being rushed to the hospital from my church. I'm also getting to the point where I understand that death is a part of life. But when one that I've gotten to know over 3.5 years is scared, well, that's different. I know very well that there comes a time when people are ready for their health to fail, ready even to die. But he's not. He has too much to live for still. And so, I'm praying that he can live. This is the kind of thing that happens all of the time in Arbuckle Creek because people retire here and live here until they die. Sometimes that is a very short period of time. Other times it spans many years. But always it is hard to be involved with.

I don't have much more to say today except that I made an incredible alfredo pasta tonight with mushrooms, peppers, and chicken and now I am SO full, but I wanted to surprise my hubby. He really liked it.

Carpoolin' Mama

It's been Cheer Camp at the EDGE Cheer Center this week which means we've been in town everyday. What's cool, though, is that we've been a part of a carpool as well. I've only had to drive one way -- and not even every day!!! And I'm doing it in a hatchback, not a gas-guzzling minivan or an oversized SUV, but in a little car with 3 in the back and 1 in the front (in addition to me). That's right, guys, we're going' retro here! And you know what? The kids are just as happy that way. I heard no complaints. That's not to say there aren't days I would LOVE a minivan, but it sure is nice to be able to use what I have and use it to capacity. Some days when my mind begins to wander, I think about how much space in my life is wasted . . .by clutter (as I had mentioned), or just the desire for more "space." Our house is plenty big for the 4 of us plus one dog. Yet the kids prefer to sleep in the wide open living room because it's closer to mom and dad. I've heard of a time not too long ago where whole families actually live in a one bedroom house. I've heard the same story occurs even today. And while I treasure my privacy and space occasionally, I more than likely forget to be thankful that I am blessed, that I am one of the lucky few. Yesterday a man came to the church looking for food. He was living in his truck and needed gas money as well. I had no cash on hand and we don't have an account at the gas station, but I did give him a bag full of canned goods. He came back twice for water from the cold water fountain. I forget that what we have been given is more than suficient. So today as I was the carpoolin' mama, I gave thanks that for once we completely filled our small space on the road. Every seat was filled. And for that I AM thankful.

So, my friends, this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for gators in their backyards.

Hair and Small Town Connections

I got my hair cut today! For those of you who haven't seen me in awhile, I was wearing it long, but because of a bad highlighting job my hair was breaking all over the place so I fell in love with the new Katie Holmes bob and suddenly it's on my head. (to my friend Dixie: I really hope it's not a helmet style! You've got me paranoid about my own hair now!) Anyway, it took me a couple of years here before I trusted anybody to cut my hair. I was afraid I was going to get a beehive and, well, that's just not my style (but it works for our choral director). Last year I finally found just the person and when I walked in, she asked me a couple of questions and it turns out she had been one of my daughter's daycare workers when we had first moved here. Small town. I was talking to my secretary this morning who was raised in this little place and when I told her who cuts my hair she asks, isn't that the girl who married my friend so-and-so's brother? Turns out, she was right. Small town. I finish getting my haircut and treat myself to Arby's and while there I see our substitute musician (also a dentist's wife) and a member of my congregation and we strike up a really nice conversation. Small town. From there I went to the chiropractor's office (you know, my social hangout) and on the table next to mine (it's open adjusting) was the woman who works at my bank. We too struck up a nice conversation amidst the popping and cracking of our adjustments. Small town. I went over to the gym to pick up the girls and ran into an "occasional" church go-er who fell in love with my hair and then the coach stopped mid-sentence with 100 kids to compliment my hairstlyle. It felt good to be recognized.

In a small town, there's really nowhere you can go to "get away" from people except your own home. And really, unless you're mad at the world, that's not a bad thing. It's nice to be seen and to be known. We all crave that. Sure, there are some days we'd like anonymity, but that's what the internet is for. In the real world, it's nice to be identified. When I lived in the city I still yearned to be known and I was -- in specific places. But here it's nice to be known, to be "found" in the crevices -- in the potholes and in the corners, in the bank drive through and in the Dollar General and walking down the street in my own neighborhood. And this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golfcarts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.

My Bank & Cheerleading

They're closing my bank. I guess I should have known. Whenever I go there I'm the only one in there, but still, it was the most convenient of the three. Before I moved here there was actually a branch of MY bank just minutes from the church. Now I have to drive "into town" to get to a branch of my bank. But as of Friday, I will have to drive even further! It shouldn't be so hard to deposit a check, you know? I also have an account with usaa which allows you to make deposits by scanning your check into the computer. I'm thinking that the more rural this place seems to get, the closer I'm becoming to relying completely on computers. If my computer crashed I'd be REALLY in for it!

On a bright note, I got to put up some of my bows at the cheer center today. I make and sell them on the side to help pay for the girls' cheer lessons. Actually, I really enjoy it and it's always fun to hear the cheerleaders make comments like "Ooooh, I like THAT one!" Instant gratification. I like that. Today a little girl came up and was commenting on all of the bows which range in price from $3-$10 depending on size and the amount of ribbon used and the amount of time it took me to make them. She proceeded to tell me that they were really good prices, that her mother thinks that $164 is a little much but that she can definitely afford bows at this price. Made me laugh on the inside. Evidently this little girl wanted SOMETHING that cost $164. I'll see what sells. Last year I had a really good response and raised about $200 and then even more from a custom sale that came through that. It ended up paying for all of the girls' cheer expenses. Well, I have the same custom contract already for this fall. I find it quite relaxing to have a "busy" project going on. It takes my mind off of the church and all of its issues. Besides that, the coach is really good about letting me sell the bows through the gym and I get to meet a bunch of different people. Sorry I rambled today. I'll try to be more succinct in the future.

Dang Hot!!! and Hospital Hubub

The really cool digital sign in front of the brand new carwash on Highway 27 said it was 110 degrees today. It's awfully hard to stay hydrated in weather like this. I had a great big super duper sweet tea from the drive through barn today, then drove to a meeting at a Mexican restaurant where I had 2 diet cokes (nothing else, thank you very much). After that I only stopped to pee ONE time! Guess I was dehydrated.

I stopped to visit someone in the hospital today. I swear, sometimes I don't think these hospitals are run by anyone worth mentioning. This was his 4th visit to the hospital in 2 weeks for the SAME problem. First they gave him a pacemaker. That was nice. Then, he kept having problems so they adjusted his meds and sent him home. Three days later he was back again with the same problem. They adjusted meds again and sent him home. He went back ONE MORE TIME and now they're calling it vertigo and sending him home again. I've heard his description. It's not vertigo when blood stops circulating to your toes and you feel light headed. It's times like this I wish everyone would DEMAND to be taken to another hospital. I really hope he's OK.

Where the Kids Watch for Gators in their Backyards

  I'll bet you thought I was kidding, didn't you? Well, I took this picture from my neighbor's yard today. He was just cooling off in the canal behind our houses. The girls and I watched him for a little while from inside the house. Then, when we went to feed the neighbor's cat, I saw he had swum (is that correct grammar?) a few yards. I used my telephoto to get a close up. They're fascinating to watch . . . as long as you're a good distance away.

Visiting the Grands

One of the benefits of living where I do is that I can get just about anywhere in FL in about 2 hours. Wanna go to Disney? no problem? Wanna see the space coast? come on over. Wanna see the bay area with the white beaches? it's here too. My parents also live in the Tampa Bay Area so we decided to head out to see them for "my" weekend. My weekend never includes Sundays so I take Fridays and Saturdays off when I can. It's not always possible, though. But this weekend we've done it. We've gotten away -- away from Arbuckle Creek, the land of golfcarts, carnivores, and alligators. And we've entered . . . a city. The coasts of FL are unreal. There is literally NO vacant land as residence upon residence upon shopping center upon etc. has taken over this beautiful land. I'm hoping to head out to the beach this evening to escape the intensity of the lack of landscape that has emerged here. And it's sad, really. My parents' neighbor has just built a house between the two houses -- that was the only way land could be found. Why do we have to live so compartmentalized? Why must "my land" be "my land" and "your land" be "your land"? At what point did this become the American dream? What happened to community where you share a backyard or a porch or even the tomatoes off the vine? Well, I guess it's still around in Arbuckle Creek. So it will be nice to return. But in the meantime, it is nice to at least be near a Target, for that too is 2 hours from Arbuckle Creek.

12 Days Until School Starts

It's starting to sink in . . . I am going to be officially teaching my kids this year. I've been wanting to home school my kids since they were probably 2 and I know I have to try it in order to quench this desire to be a part of my kids' education. When I moved here I was determined to give the public schools a good chance. I believe in public education, even though I didn't receive a public education myself. I believe that everyone should be able to afford an education and that the community should come forth to make education a reality for ALL kids. But after 2 years in the public school system, I could go no further. You see, the community isn't showing that it cares about education. It can't afford more taxes because they are paying the many healthcare bills that come when Medicare doesn't cover it. And so health care gets priority over education for the majority of the voting public. Add to that parents who could care less that their children even finish school and behavioral problems that make ADHD look very tame, not to mention the large classes and the emphasis on the lowest common denominator, and we're left with a free daycare facility where the occasional kid gets an education. And so, because I DO care about education, we tried private school. And when that stretched the financial limits, we opted for home education. We're finding that we are not alone in this option. And truly, the state makes it very "doable" in terms of time requirements and testing strategies. I am finding a lot of help from other parents who have been doing this for awhile. I am not saying we'll do it forever, but I have to try and see if it makes a difference. I guess that's why I'm nervous about the whole thing -- I don't want to mess it up because it may be my only chance to prove myself (while also maintaining the rest of my life!) I'm also concerned on a theological level, though, because not everyone has access to an alternative to public school. It's a theological dilemma for me because I realize that it is a privilege to get to teach my own children. And so I want to always keep that in my awareness, not wanting to flaunt my way over someone else's way. We are all unique in our approaches to education and yet we are all loved by God in the midst of all of our differences. For some education it a high priority whereas for others survival is of utmost importance. I want to be thankful for this opportunity and take it seriously. What an honor it is to even get to try my hand at this!

The Umbrella Goes WHERE?

Some like umbrellas in their drinks. Others carry them around "just in case" it starts to rain. Then there are those who choose to listen to the sounds of the waves on the beach under the cover of a nice beach umbrella, saving their skin from UV damage. But here in Arbuckle Creek, I've discovered a new use for umbrellas. Just the other day I was driving down the road when I saw a man on his riding lawn mower with a HUGE patio umbrella attached, the kind you'd find attached to someone's picnic table. I can't remember if it had fringe or not, but it was that kind -- a "designer" umbrella attached to a lawn mower. Talk about ingenuity!!! Now, it wasn't raining. I'm sure the sole purpose of that umbrella was to shield its rider from the sun, but the absurdity of the moment struck my funny bone.

Today was a really busy day -- with old ladies upset by change, young people having a hard time believing in God when bad things have happened, and grief, lots of grief that just won't let go of people. It's all in a day's work, but at times the emotional immensity is a big burden to carry. And so I ask you, my friends, for some prayers for these people who mean the world to me . . . my congregation. I guess that's why I shared the umbrella story -- I needed to have a "light point" today.

And this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the kids watch for alligators in their backyards.

Shall We Gather At the River?

The church choir at my little Presbyterian church absolutely cracks me up. Since summer is a slow time, one of our choir members, J., has taken charge. Weekly he's been singing old gospel tunes for the offertory. But rather than sing solo after solo, he asks all of the choir to sing the chorus. He's even named their gig: J. and the Pipettes (there's only one other man in the choir during the summer). One of the choir members (who is typically by the book on absolutely everything) swore he was calling them the "Pimpettes" and she blushed a very bright color. But he calmed her down with his easy manner and relaxed sense of humor.

J. hasn't always been easy going. He was chief of police in Miami before he early-retired here after a severe heart attack. Now he just lives everyday as if it's a gift. It's a reminder to me of how precious life is and how it's not worth arguing the details (though I do get caught up in them occasionally).

Yesterday he invited the Pippettes to sing the chorus of "Shall We Gather at the River?" and rather than have them drone the chorus as if they had never heard it before, he encouraged them to "punch" the "Yes!" enthusiastically. He demonstrated by punching the air with force causing a chorus of titters to emerge from our multi-purpose choir room.

Well, worship rolls around and what do you know, we're giving thanks to God for all of the gifts, including the gift of life itself that J. understands so well and forgiveness and redemption and the Pippettes all belt out "Yes! We'll gather at the river!" while all of their fists swing into the air.

I looked around the congregation for the shock that often accompanies unorthodox practices in church (you know, like smiling, clapping, saying "Amen" and such) but the majority were smiling as if they finally heard the song for the first time. Of course they wanted to gather at the river! Of course they wanted to hear the ripple flowing by the throne of God!

And so worship (unorthodox as it was) happened yesterday in Arbuckle Creek - where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.

The Dollar General

When I lived in Nashville, I had no idea how awesome the Dollar General was. I remember a woman who so thoughtfully would buy my baby clothes every time she went in there and I wondered: what's the draw here?

Well, let me tell you, when I moved to Arbuckle Creek 3 1/2 years ago, there was no Dollar General. In fact, there was nothing. It was a 10 minute drive into town to the grocery store, etc. If you forgot something on your "run" into town, you were out of luck. But now, NOW, we have the most amazing store -- Dollar General. Some of the people who had lived here for a long time didn't think it would go over really well. Boy were they wrong. They were at the tops for sales because people like me forget milk or toilet paper or some other necessity. And a bunch of 90-somethings who are still driving out here feel comfortable driving the .25 miles to the Dollar General so they can get out of the house and "browse." I love it because it is right next door to the church so we can skirt over there for batteries if the lapel mike shorts in the middle of worship. You see, it's all about conveniences. Does it have variety? No. Today I took the girls out to shop for binders for their spelling work this year and their choices were: white, black, blue, purple, or green. None of the fancy characters plastered on the front. No trapper keepers (remember those?!) No cute little kittens hanging from a tree with catchy phrases. But you know what, they truly don't need the variety. And if they do, we'll pick up a stylish polka dotted folder or notebook next time we go into town. It's not like we are SO far from civilization that we can't shop when we want to, it's rather just nice to know that we don't HAVE to enter civilization to grab a few necessities.

And so the kids around here tend to wear similar clothes -- one of 3 pairs of Dollar General shorts or a screen printed T-shirt with some flashy saying on it. But their parents only spent $10 for the outfit rather than $30 for a T-shirt. It's a lesson for me in "place." What we expect of each other and even of ourselves is relative to the location in which we live. I currently live in Arbuckle Creek where I realize we'll always be 10-15 years behind the cities in terms of what the congregation is interested in or what the children wear or play with. Kids here still appreciate bicycles and trampolines. They like to be outside on the basketball courts. And adults, well, because of location, the older ones want to have their own fishing boat or attempt to better themselves in golf. The younger ones just want a stable job with decent childcare. Rarely do you find anyone willing to run themselves into the ground for the sake of a new car (unless it runs on the racetrack here or unless it's a monster truck) or an Armani suit. People here are down-home with hopes to make some friends along the journey we call life.

So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores, and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.

Buying Books

One of the things I really miss from my days in Nashville is a bookstore. You know, those places that are loaded with books and you can walk in and browse and happen upon something you never knew was in print but it's perfect so you read part of it in the store and decide whether or not you really want to spend all $29.95 on the hardcover or wait for the paperback? Seriously, we have one bookstore and it's a mall bookstore. In other words, it's small and mostly contains "popular" literature (which some may debate whether or not it is really "literature." BUT, in a little over a month, we are scheduled to receive a full-fledged Books-A-Million. Now, while in Nashville, I had the opportunity to browse Davis-Kidd, Cokesbury, Borders, and Barnes & Nobles containing many FLOORS of books and we would literally make dates of browsing one or more of the bookstores. If we got thirsty we'd head on down to the cafe and pick up a latte or a chai tea or something else that was "bookstore-ish" (not to be confused with "bookish") in nature. Ahh, those were the good 'ole days. But now I'm chomping at the bit at the grand opening of my least favorites of the mega-chain bookstores, Books-a-Million. It's my least favorite because I've noticed that it too tends toward stocking the "popular" books, but having lived in bookstore absencia for the past 3.5 years, I am willing to lower my standards and just embrace the coming of the glorious kingdom of Books A Million.

How have you made it this long without a decent bookstore, you may ask. Well, I DO have Amazon. In the days pre-internet I truly don't think I could locate myself 2 hours from the closest "real" bookstore, but in this modern day and age, God has made a way, and I give thanks for the internet and the UPS man who deliver joy to my doorstep (in the form of amazon books lest your mind stray). Today I placed several internet-based bookstore orders for homeschool materials and even purchased a few used which is always nice (except you can't always get amazon prime shipping that way so you have to watch closely).

So, if you ever want to come visit me in Arbuckle Creek and you are of the bookstore-loving species, I invite you to join me in September for the great and wonderful opening of a "real" bookstore here.

And that's the news from Arbuckle Creek where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.

It's the Little Things

There's a country song that was popular a couple of years ago and the chorus proclaimed "It's the Little Things that Turn Me On." Being that Arbuckle Creek is located exactly in the middle of the state (also known as the middle of nowhere), I thought it might be nice to share a "little thing" that we've done this week. You see, I'm proud of my kids. I mentioned making cookies for a couple of shut-ins who have just returned from the hospital and suddenly they're naming everyone in the whole church that they'd like to do something for. You know -- the choir (they love music), the choir director, the woman who teaches Sunday School, the VBS director, the man who they haven't seen in awhile, the woman who runs the kitchen, the 2 in the nursing home, the one who recently lost her husband, and the kids continued on and on. I had no idea how much all of these "little things" had made an impression on my kids. And so we baked this week. A couple of days ago we baked cookies and delivered them to 18 homes. We still have quite a bit more to go so today we baked brownies and will deliver them tomorrow. Eventually I'd like to get to everyone's houses, but, even in a little place, making "the rounds" takes awhile. But I can't tell you how much it meant to me to see my 6 year old walking up to the door of an 80+ year old and chatting up a storm with her. I can't tell you what it meant to see the look of surprise in the eyes of a man who lost his wife 2 years ago and the gigantic smile that crossed his face. I can't tell you what it meant to hear the words of a woman, full of thanksgiving, telling me she'd like more information about the church. I can't tell you what it meant to see the girls' faces as a thank you note arrived in the mail today from a 93 year old or what it meant to have a voice mail message raving about a couple kids' cookies. It's times like this that I remember why I live out in the middle of nowhere. With the country and its laid back attitudes also comes a sense of pride and connectedness to community and, of course, the time to bake cookies with my kids. So this is the news from Arbuckle Creek where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.

CHAOS

I suffer from CHAOS. According to www.flylady.com that is "Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome." The thing is, I'm sick of living with CHAOS. I LIKE people, you see. But the chaos with which I live is a plain 'ole messy house. I have too much un-usable "stuff." My youngest daughter and I spent a whole week purging her room and now it looks wonderful and she enjoys playing in it. My oldest daughter plans to do the same with me later this week (hers is a lot further along.) But the real clencher comes because my landlord is coming by today to do a walk through because we're changing the lease a bit (long story). She's not been in the house in over 3 years. She's walked around the outside, but in those 3+ years I've accumulated 3 years worth of stuff. I think what happens is that I innocently accumulate, but then, when I don't find a place for it, it gets buried in a pile. So this morning at 5 AM I was unburying the floor in my own bedroom. I found a lot of "stuff" to throw away and it already feels better walking around in there because there is all of this space. However, despite the beautiful floors that have appeared in my house, I still have piles on every piece of furniture. It's nasty. A woman in my congregation came by to help me "uncover" my office and she called me a pack rat, but it's not that -- it's just that I get too lazy or too busy to throw things away. She has done an amazing job and I feel that I'm getting my life back -- same thing with the house. Meanwhile, I'm embarrassed about the walkthrough this afternoon. I'm embarrassed that I'm 34 and just now learning how to pick up after myself. But, I know that I have to start somewhere. I've already referenced flylady, but her whole perspective is that people suffering from CHAOS syndrome tend to be perfectionists. We can't just "pick up" a little but have to go all out, cleaning out everything. When we get in the middle of one of those tasks but fail to finish it (because we're so overwhelmed) we are left with an even bigger mess than we started with. Here's an example: I've started on my room by cleaning the floors -- however, I immediately notice all of the clothes on my bed that need to be folded. When that's done, I'll need to clean out my drawers and closet so that there is room for my clean clothes. But I'll get sidetracked by the mismatched socks and develop a system for keeping up with lost socks. Then I'll happen upon some ribbon I had lost and get started bowmaking because I'm so excited to have found the ribbon. I finally return to my room and notice that the closet is a WRECK and needs to be taken apart and the trash bags come back out. Then I see that TV on the floor that needs to go out to the garage for the sake of the future yardsale and that opens up a corner with nothing in it except for scrapbooking supplies that I need to find a home for. Are you exhausted yet? This is what I'm talking about . . . it's some combination of perfectionism, OCD (except they would finish the things) and pure denial. Because by the time everything is out of my closet, I'll be crying that there's no way I can finish it. So today, as you sit in your nice clean houses, doing only one load of laundry at a time, say a special prayer for me, that I can work through my CHAOS and begin to FLY.

More Country "Hang Outs"

Where do you hang out when most "places" are closed for the summer or are a good 20 minutes drive away? Well, let me catch you up on the "hang outs" in Highlands County.

ROSERIOS PIZZA: This is almost directly across the street from the church. Roserios Pizza could be called "Cheers" because it's definitely where everybody knows your name. Darrell, the woman in charge, can connect people like no one I've ever seen. One days I was eating the pizza (which is good, by the way -- I recommend the cheeseburger pizza -- EAT MORE BEEF! ya know?!) Anyway, while I was eating I was listening to Darrell. She's from Boston and has the accent and everything (didn't I say this place was Cheers?) Darrell asks a couple where they are from as she pretty much knows everyone who comes in. Turns out there from some suburb of Las Vegas and have just moved within the week. She welcomes them and then connects them to another couple 2 tables down who just happens to be moving to the same suburb of Las Vegas in the next 2 weeks. The people connect immediately and soon the table of 2 becomes a table of 4. I'd say this was coincidence except it happens CONSTANTLY in there. It's so much fun to watch. She has a gift, ya know? I was waiting on my pizza there last week while being stressed out about the lack of wedding know-all and working on the homily. She comes by and within minutes I'm feeling better about what I have to do because she has so much good stuff to say about the bride and groom because, of course, she knows everybody. The only draw back for this place is that it is only open Wednesday through Saturday and they close for a month every year. Oh, and did I mention they also rent DVD's from the closet?

THE WATERING HOLE: This place is the hang out "in town" (that's a 20 minute drive) that is known for their bar. I can't say I've been there for that reason but I know many people who consider their bar the best place to meet singles. To be perfectly honest, I don't know what people in Highlands County look for in their couples if they are there to pass out (which seems to be the chief end of things -- not a nice buzz but literally to make themselves sick . . . to each his own, right?) Though, from what I've seen, people are mostly looking for someone who drives a gas guzzling truck -- if it's been jacked up, even better. This is, after all, redneck heaven. But I'm not nay-saying the Watering Hole. They boast some of the most incredible steaks in the state of FL (EAT MORE BEEF!) and, for entertainment value, they have a live alligator in captivity (with an interesting past life) and a host of peacocks. It is pretty impressive for the Middle of Nowhere, FL.

AFFINITY HEALTH PROFESSIONALS: My favorite non-eating hang out is Affinity Health Professionals. It's a chiropractic office. Initially I went because my husband went, but before long I learned that the staff is ALL my age or younger. In other words, it's one of the only places in the county that is not aged. Even the doctor is a couple of months younger than I am. I've experienced great health through chiropractic and acupuncture and even the massage there so I am a "regular" in their office. But really, what drew me, was the social life. (I know, too funny! KT discovers her social life at the chiropractic office!) I feel like I'm part of their family. They expect me when I get my stress headaches around funerals or church business meetings. And I offer my services in the sense of being available to offer people help with spiritual wellness. It is well worth your time if you're ever in the Arbuckle Creek area.

So that's the news for today from Arbuckle Creek -- where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores, and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.