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.