Delaware Grammy

Yesterday morning, on my way to my sister’s house to pick up some rather stellar Portabella mushrooms, my mind was anywhere but here in Delaware.  Somehow the absence of Oldest Son and his fair spouse was weighing heavily on my heart.  They moved to Ohio a month ago, (actually it was four weeks ago yesterday) and even though Raph had some odd jobs lined up, there was no promise of anything beyond temporary.  As the weeks have passed, I’ve been reluctant to even call him to hear “No, Momma.  No job.  Not yet.” 

I’ve prayed about this, been grateful for Regina’s good family who love our son unabashedly.  I’ve been happy about Regina’s job, and for the way she has settled back into it.  I’ve been glad for the way they found an apartment so quickly, and reassured by the friends they seem to be making, thankful that Regina can be near her mom and sisters and the three little nieces that light up their lives, but so sad that Raph hasn’t been able to find that elusive job.  I fought tears as I went down old Blacksmith Shop Road yesterday morning, and thought about the things I miss.  I miss the Sunday family lunches, I miss the good-natured teasing about life and sports and work.  I miss the top of the head kiss that he often dropped when he hugged me, the occasional drop in after work and the always, always, always, “Love you, Momma!” when he left.  I miss them as a couple, Raph and Gina, who quietly (and often not so quietly) added to our lives in a thousand different ways.

In true “Momma Fashion” I tried to figure out what I should do.  Maybe I should just call more.  Maybe I ought to revert to the old “letter in the mail” business like my Grandpa Yoder did for the many long years when his children were scattered from Michigan to Florida to Ethiopia and often various places in between.  I remember that he would sit at his old typewriter and peck out page after page.  He sometimes did carbon paper, but when he wrote to my Uncle Paul, a missionary doctor to Ethiopia, he would use those old airmail fold together page and envelope all in one.  They fascinated me.  He would fill up every printable corner, and carefully fold and seal them and send them off.  I love the kind of instant communication that we have now, but when someone hardly ever checks their e-mail, doesn’t read his Momma’s blog, and has trouble sometimes finding time to call — well, there has to be some way of bridging the gap.

All these things were rolling around in my head as I bumped down the road.  I wondered how my Son was getting along.  Was he homesick?  Was he discouraged over not having a job?  Did he have any prospects?  Was he carefully pursuing any leads that he had?

I pulled into the drive at my sister’s house, and took care of business there, and headed home again.  The plans were to go to Dover for some shopping, and my daughters were waiting on me.  Suddenly there was a call on my cell phone and it was  — Oldest Son.

“Son!”  I chirped happily.  “How are you? I was just thinking about you, wondering how you were, wondering if I should call–  Are you doing alright?”

“Well, Momma,” he said with a note in his voice that I haven’t heard for a long time, “I got a job!”

“Son, that’s wonderful!!!  What an answer to this Momma’s prayers!  Tell me about it!”

And so, he did.  He told me about interviewing with several companies, and how this job just fell into his lap.  It looks like it will be a really good job.  He will be installing windows for a company and the benefits are really good.  He is so pleased, so relieved, so thankful.  He starts Monday.

What a blessing this news was to this Momma’s heart!  It lifted a burden that had been sitting squarely in the middle of motherly concern for a long time.  The week has been a long week.  Most of the week, I felt like I was battling depression big time.  And I didn’t feel very good, but I kept thinking, “Wow!  Between the girls coming home and the Monday night stretch, a friend’s passing, and all the other things going on, I must just really be ‘crashing’ hard.”  Then yesterday afternoon I realized that I had a rather advanced urinary tract infection, and that explained some of my irritability and some of the physically exhausted business.  So my doctor gave me some medicine and I feel better already.  I’m so grateful for the advances of modern medicine.  When I think about where I was a year ago, hoping so much that my knees would get better with Synvisc shots, hardly being able to enjoy my precious grandbaby because of the pain, and wishing for a quick fix for that brother of mine that had his neck broken in a fall — let’s just say that I am mightily encouraged today, even though I am not entirely well.  Lord willing it won’t be long until I’m all better.

And Oldest Son is no longer unemployed!!!  Now that’s worth getting excited about!!!

You go, Raph!  We are so happy with you and Regina for this answer to prayer.

 

She stood in the middle of my kitchen.  From the moment she and her little sister came in from the dark where they had been swinging, she had smiled and tried to be so very grown up and complimentary. I was troubled by the fact that there were only two girlies.  There should have been four.

“Is it just you and Miriam?” I asked her.  She nodded.  “Where are your sisters, honey?”

Her chin jutted out, and she heaved her shoulders.  “Well,” she said slowly, “I’m not sure that I’m supposed to repeat this, but –” She looked around cautiously.  “We think they are with our mama.”  She looked then like she was going to cry.  I walked over and wrapped her up in my arms and held her.

“And how does that make you feel?” I asked gently.

Her voice was high pitched, and tight.  “Sad.”  She said simply.

“Oh, Honey-girl.”  I hugged her tight and rocked.  She took a deep breath.

“Our family is just having a really tough time right now,” she said in a voice that belied her mere eight years.  She and her sister played a little, but kept straying back to the kitchen.  I finally got to thinking.  They had been riding about most of the day, looking for someone to take them in. 

“Are you girlies hungry?”  I asked them with as much cheerfulness as I could muster.  Their eyes brightened, and even though I have reason to believe that the six year old already is dealing with her mother’s anorexia, they both insisted that they would love something to eat.  I had one can of spaghettios on the shelf.  It was enough for two little girls.  There was applesauce in the cellar.  I got the spaghettios cooking while the oldest of the two hovered at my elbow.

“Did you know,” she suddenly said, “that I can cook and I can clean?  I’m a really good help in the house.”

“You can cook?” I asked her.

“Yep, I can do toasted cheese and if I could get to Wal-mart for some cornstarch, I can make vanilla pudding.”

“That sounds wonderful, Honey.  I’m sure you are a big help around the house.  But you know, Darlin’ you are a little girl and little girls need to play sometimes.”

“Oh,” she said airly, “I do play, too.  But I like to help.”

Supper was eaten, and the two darlings played tenuously.  The oldest came back to give me compliments. 

“You are a good housekeeper.”  

You are a good cook.”  

“You make good home canned things.” 

“You have a big house.”

I sensed that there was a bid being made for being allowed to stay, and my heart went out to these little girls and their desperate situation.  A mother who doesn’t live with them, two older sisters who have run away to live with the mom, and a dad who is ill — physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.  His sordid tale went on and on into the wee hours of the morning.  Somewhere along the way, I told him that the little girls could sleep in the spare room if they could sleep together.  They had gone into the living room and crashed onto the la-Z-boy recliners and fell soundly asleep.  It was then that we realized that what the dad really wanted was for someone to take the three of them in.  Indefinitely.

I looked across the room at Certain Man who had put setting up chicken house on hold to listen and to try to understand.  I thought about our girlies, due in any minute from their trip, and my heart rebelled at the invasion.  I didn’t mind the little girls sleeping at my house, but the thought of their daddy spending the night was really uncomfortable for me.  Certain Man told him that he could sleep on the couch, and he jumped at the chance. I went to change the last load of laundry and then motioned to Certain Man.  “What’s going on?” I queried.  “Did you really tell him he could sleep here?”

He was as troubled as I was.  “Hon, what can we do?  I can’t turn him out with the girls, and he isn’t going leave without them.”

“You’re right, of course,” I said.  “But there are a few things I need to tell him.”

I met him in the kitchen and decided to get it over with.  “You heard me say that there is an upstairs spare room, and I know I did say that the girls could sleep there.  That was before I realized that you were staying too.  With sleeping arrangements the way they are upstairs, I cannot allow you to sleep up there.  Our single daughters are coming home tonight, and I am not comfortable with you being up there.”  He took that really well and seemed to understand.  “Furthermore,” I said, “Mornings at this house are especially busy.  Daniel leaves early for work, and I have my ladies to get up and ready for the bus.  Daniel leaves at 7:00.  I think it would be best if you weren’t here after that time.  I’m not making any accusations, but it just doesn’t look good for a man to be here when my husband is gone.”

“Oh, sure, sure.” He said.  “I 100% agree with that.  That is how I would do it, too.  Just to have the couch is good enough, and we get up early and we’ll try to get on out of here.”

“I would really appreciate it,” I said.  “It just seems awkward.”

“Right!” he said.  “I understand.”

I got some sheets and made up a bed on the couch.  Got him a pillow and some blankets.  In less than ten minutes, he was snoring gently.  The girlies hardly seemed to move.  We left a light on in case they got awake, and once our girls got in from Guatemala, we went to bed. And after a time of trying to think and pray, I eventually went off to sleep.

This morning, there wasn’t much stirring in the living room until right after Daniel left for work.  Then the bathroom I use to shower and dress my ladies was suddenly taken over.  Thankfully, it didn’t last too long, but I still played “catch up” until the bus arrived, actually ten minutes early.  Nettie and Cecilia both rode on the same bus today, so they were actually out of the house before the two little boys that Rachel babysits for put in their appearance.  As the morning wore on there were no serious attempts at getting out of here.  The Youngest girl hollered from the top of the steps.  “Hey!  Do you have some clean clothes?  I peed myself!”

“No, I don’t have any little girls, so I don’t have any clothes your size.”

She scrunched up her cute little snoot and tried to think of a solution.  “You don’t have anything?  I need a t-shirt.  Do you have a t-shirt for me?  No?  Well, could you knit one quick?”  (uh, no!)

Eventually they drug in a huge suitcase that had clothes and some necessities, then had some breakfast, and everyone continued to mill about.  I don’t know what is wrong with this old grey mare, but this morning almost got the best of my good humor.  I finally fired off a message to the church e-mail group, asking for prayer and I guess people must have really taken it to heart because it was only about 20 minutes later that I saw him putting light jackets on the girls and he decided to head on out to see what he can find today.

My heart is a kaleidoscope of emotion tonight.  How very much I wonder where they are.  I wonder what their day was like.  I spent a long time talking to Youngest Son today, and he is adamant that the girls are in danger.  He had many, many things to say, but I hardly know what to do with them.  I know it isn’t the best situation, but I have never seen the dad do anything that would physically hurt the kids.  But everything is so mixed up tonight, and I am more than a little worried.  I know that I’ve not given many names, but if you could, please pray for this family tonight.  I don’t see things getting much better, in fact, I believe that they are “sitting on go for disaster.”

God has a plan, here.  There is a best thing for this family to do.  How sincerely I hope and pray that where ever they are tonight, the girlies are fed and secure.

Thanks for listening!

The girls come  home tomorrow, Lord Willing.  The Guatemala airport is open, and things are all scheduled.

Please pray for my Rachel-girl.  She is quite sick with the kind of things travelers often get when they travel in Latin Amercan countries.  After three days of Montezuma’s Revenge, she is so dehydrated that she blacked out this morning when they went into town.  I’m so glad that she has her own personal nurse with her, and Deborah is doing a fine job taking care of her.  Rachel called me this afternoon while we were still at our church’s carry-in to ask me to please pray for her, and to ask for advice.  I talked to her just a few minutes ago and she is feeling much improved, for which I am so grateful.

My week ahead looks really full, but took a quick turn for the unexpected this afternoon when Cecilia suffered a seizure.  She was hospitalized about two months ago with seizures that wouldn’t stop (also on a Sunday afternoon, no less) and they changed her meds at that time.  She had a few weeks of irritablility, but then seemed to settle in.  About a month ago, they started her on Blood Pressure meds, and since then she has just not seemed quite right.  Because she doesn’t speak, I always need to guess what is going on.  I’ve noticed that she has lost some weight, though, and this past week they called me from Easter Seals to say that she was crying.  They had never seen her cry before, and were quite worried.  I couldn’t leave that minute to get her, and asked for a half an hour.  By then, she had stopped crying and we decided to just leave her there.  She seemed fine there the rest of the day, and also fine when she got home in the evening.  Daniel and I went to PA to pick up my Sweet Mama who has been gone for almost three weeks, and Niece Carmen put her to bed.  Again, she was crying, so Carmen called me, and I sang her the usual going to bed song that I sing every night, and then she seemed to settle okay.  She was fine yesterday and seemed normal today until she had the seizure.

What this means is that I need to get orders for blood work, and then see if she may need some follow-up tests.  May I just say that I HATE seizures???  They are devastating to the person who has them, and they are difficult to manage, difficult to discover the “WHY” of them, and difficult to know just what is best for the person involved.

Things will look better tomorrow.  It’s high time I get to bed.  Better days ahead.  I hope.

(And maybe Xanga will upload my pictures!)

After all the hoopla about El Salvador, I need to report on that part of the trip.  Deborah and Rachel were treated wonderfully in San Salvador.  They were taxied to the nice motel that is associated with the bus lines after arriving at the airport.  I believe it cost them maybe $30.00, which Deborah seemed to feel was fair.  They paid $24.00 a night for the nice motel room, and then were up at 4am to catch a bus at 5am for Guatemala. 

The bus was adequate and comfortable and not terribly expensive.  They had some exposure to the roads that were washed out and passable only on one side.  One bridge was actually under water, but they went across it anyway.  When I questioned the wisdom of that, Rachel said, “Mom, it was like a cement roof bridge.  It was fine!”  (I didn’t tell her that I saw some pictures of “cement roof” bridges lying helter skelter and completely collapsed on a facebook friend’s photo report of the devastation in the wake of the hurricane — The girls both seemed to feel that it was not that scary.)  They got to Guatemala City in less than four hours, which seems to be excellent time, and then because Lupe and her husband Ervin had difficulties on the bad roads between Quetzetanoma and the capitol, they waited for awhile in a mall until they finally got there.  Got something to eat because they were starving, and that is where Lupe and Ervin found them.

They had that very positive experience in El Salvador, and now they are loving the time with Lupe and her husband and their extended family.  When I talked with Lupe last night, she was quite weepy with joy over having Rachel there, sharing old memories, and finding that Rachel has grown up so much since she last saw her, finding her an adult friend as well as a childhood friend that grew up, and just really enjoying having “home folks” there to talk to.  I sometimes wonder how it must be to be in Lupe’s shoes.  She has this little girl that is almost a year and half, and her grandma (Lupe’s mother) has never seen her.

Ervin and Lupe’s baby, Nichole

Lupe literally has no family where she lives, and she has had to learn the hard way who to trust and who will betray her, she has struggled in the marriage, (not surprising.  Who doesn’t?) but has persevered and held on until things are now better than they have ever been.  Her husband is a good provider for her, and they seem to have a working relationship that is meaningful to them both.  She is a scrappy, feisty girlie and she has not had things easy in her life.  I often think that it is that tenacity that has made the difference in getting through and giving up.  I’m grateful that she has been a part of our lives, and I am honored that she considers our family as her own along with her biological family.  It’s been a TRIP, and it has certainly had adventures. 

Kinda’ like the one the girls are on right now.  It’s been hard to predict just what will happen next.

 

They are there!

About 2:15 I got this text:

We are safe with Lupe and are eating lunch.
Thanks for your prayers and keep praying
cause the roads back to her house were pretty bad.
Love you!

 

I’m sure the adventure will continue!

Our World Travelers are on their way again.  Beloved Son in Law took them to the airport this morning.

They are on their way to Guatemala to see Lupe.  The trip has been planned for a long time, and it looked like it should have gone without too much trouble.

However.

(the story of my life — “HOWEVER–“)

There’s been a volcanic eruption in Guatemala, closing the airport.  They tried to reroute to another airport, but to do that would change their airline, consequently, their tickets, consequently costing right at $1,000.00 more.  Rachel, seriously, could not afford her part of that.

So, their airline offered to reroute them through El Salvador, where they could catch a bus for a six hour trip to Guatemala City, where Lupe and her husband would meet them and take them the six hours to their home in Quetzaltenango.

There is a tropical storm blasting Guatemala and El Salvador and some neighboring countries.  At last count, there are 150 dead, and there are mud slides, roads out, and even a huge sink hole in Guatemala City into which a building completely disappeared.  Then there is the volcano and the ash that is causing things to be difficult.

And they told me not to worry!!!  “I wonder,” mused Youngest Daughter, “if I was born without a fear factor.  I mean, I figure that I belong to God, and Jesus will be with us, and as long as we don’t do anything stupid, He will protect us.”  Okay.  What’s the definition of “stupid”?

Rachel was actually ecstatic.  She wanted to have visited 25 countries before she was twenty, and Guatemala was only 24.  El Salvador makes 25. “Yippee!!!” she squealed, while she bounced in her chair yesterday.  “This is so incredible!!!  An adventure!!!  This is how I like things to be.”  

(Well, Sor-ree!!! Little girlie!!!  Your Mama doesn’t share your enthusiasm.)

And then, just now, they called me and told me they realized they were headed for the wrong airport.  Deborah thought they were going to Dulles.  Seems like they were supposed to go to Ronald Reagan. 

“Gotta’ get off, Mom,” says rather flustered Middle Daughter.  “I need to call the airport.  We still have time to make it.  At least we should . . . ‘Bye.”  And she hung up.  Whew!  How in the world am I supposed to react to all this?  I prayed that if they weren’t to go, that God would stop it somehow, but I don’t want it to be because Deborah read the tickets wrong.

It’s a good time to pray.  I think I better “get off” here, too. I’m going to go get Youngest Sister and we are going to go buy some flowers.  A diversion.

Stay tuned for the rest of the story.  And please pray for Deborah and Rachel.

UPDATE:  The girls eventually got on their plane.  It seems that Jesse dropped them off, helped to get things unloaded and left.  And then, after Deborah was through Security, she discovered that her camera was missing.  She knew she had it in the van, so she called Jesse, and sure enough, there it was.  It had fallen out of one of the bags.  Jesse turned around, went back to the airport where she waited just beside the door to claim what was hers.  And then, once again, through security, and finally we got a text message that said they were on the plane, and this Mama could breathe a little bit easier.

This evening, I had a phone call from a very distraught Lupe.  She is quite worried, indeed.  El Salvador is a much worse place than Guatemala, she said.  Her husband told her that people rob people there, and just take advantage of people.  He is very worried about their safety.  And now the bridge is out between El Salvador and Guatemala, and they aren’t sure how the girls will ever get across.  And people keep stopping at the house to see if they have come yet, and then in true comforting fashion say things like, “Your American friends must love you very, very much to risk so much to get here!”

“Miss Mary Ann, I’m just so worried,” says my little Latin Lupe-Lou.  “If anything bad happens to my friends, I just want to die with them!’

HELLO?!?!?!?

“Lupe,” I say in the most reassuring voice that I can muster, “this is a good time to pray.  Worrying won’t help a single bit, and God knows where the girlies are. He is able to keep them in His care.  We need to trust Him, pray for their safety and wait!  Deborah and Rachel have been through lots of tight scrapes in their lives, and Deborah has a good head on her shoulders.  God is with them.”

She settled down then, and we had a great conversation.  And just at the end of the calling card, lightening struck somewhere close, shutting down the electric in Milford, and that was the end of the connection.

Just about an hour ago, the girls landed in Houston.  Late, but in time to catch their flight to El Salvador.  We were able to talk to them and tell them about what we had heard through Lupe.  And they listened!  In fact, they procured tickets that will bring them back to Texas tomorrow in the event that they can’t get a bus ride to Guatemala from El Salvador.  They are on the plane, ready to take off for El Salvador, and they are very aware that things might turn out differently than they had hoped.  But they have found some fellow travelers that are in the same boat — headed for Guatemala through El Salvador, and that is comforting (to them and to me).  There are more bridges between Guatemala and El Salvador, and there has to be some recourse for people in this situation.

I refuse to give in to panic.  I know things aren’t very quiet in El Salvador, and I would appreciate your prayers for the safety of our girls.  I know the Lord is with them, and I know He can protect them.  Worrying won’t help.  Praying does.

Thanks so much!

Much later update:  (Actually, at about 1AM on Wednesday)

AT A LITTLE PAST MIDNIGHT, THIS POST APPEARED ON FACEBOOK:

Deborah Yutzy is safely in San Salvador, in a nice hotel, with all of our luggage, (PTL) and there is a bus leaving tomorrow morning for Guatemala with seats available. (D.V.)

AN HOUR LATER, THIS ONE SHOWED UP!

Rachel Yutzy Currently in El Salvador with mi hermana and trusty travel companion, Deborah Yutzy I think I may have exited another “teenage” phase. I truly realized that I am not immortal. But hey, I am still super excited about our “ADVENTURE!”

PRAISE THE LORD, DEAR FRIENDS!!!  DEBORAH AND RACHEL SAID TO TELL EVERYONE THANKS AGAIN FOR ALL THE PRAYERS.  PLEASE DON’T STOP NOW. 

 

 

I am guilty of stealing a picture — from my sister in law, Polly’s Xanga site.  But this is a very current picture of me and my two sisters.  And this weblog is about a very special day.  And I don’t have a picture that was taken today because I keep forgetting to take my camera and ask people to take our picture — but I digress.

My youngest sister, Alma, had a birthday on Saturday.  It was a busy time for all of us, and so we decided that we would go out today.  I had a gift certificate to “Where Pigs Fly” restaurant in Dover, and so we decided that we would all go there to celebrate.  We got a good start, and got to Ollie’s Bargain Mart and perused the many good bargains there and found some books that suited our fancies, and then headed on to Where Pigs Fly for a wonderful lunch together.  There was good conversation, laughter and a generally relaxed atmosphere.

And then we went to the Mall, where more bargains were procured at the semi-annual Clearance Sale at Yankee Candle, and also at the Boscov’s Department Store.  We stopped briefly at Auntie Anne’s pretzels and got a drink and some pretzel sticks, and then we headed for the great Sam’s Club.  Now Youngest Sister had been there earlier this week, and had taken a great deal of time to put a large amount of things to buy in her cart.  When she got up to the checkout, she produced her visa card to pay, and was told that she could not use visa at Sam’s Club.  It had to be Master Card or Discover or personal check.  None of which she had.  I have thought over this situation several times, and I promise you that I would have not just given up, but she was on a time schedule to get back to milk, and so she eventually walked away and left everything.  The checkout girl was not helpful at all, and the whole situation was frustrating indeed.  So on this day, she was going back to get all the things that she hadn’t been able to get on the previous visit.  Middle Sister and I also had things to get, but Youngest Sister had warned us that it was going to take her a long time, but promised to hurry.  So I kind of meandered about, and looked at things, got a few things and then, just as I was getting my last item, a 55 lb. bag of moisture control Miracle Grow Potting Soil, my cell phone rang, and behold, Middle Sister had completed her check out and was patiently waiting, and Youngest Sister was almost finished checking out.  So I heaved the big bag across the top of my cart and headed for the check out.  It stuck out in such a way that I had to be so careful not to assault other customers, but I finally found a relatively short checkout line, and got it onto the belt along with my other purchases.

About then, I saw Youngest Sister tromping across the eating area towards the counter where you order pizza or drinks or whatever.  “Do you want any water?” she asked as she passed by my line. 

“No, I’m fine,” I said, “but take my keys so you can go ahead and start loading.”  I willed  the fellow to hurry up so that I wouldn’t keep my sisters waiting.  After all, Youngest Sister had cows to milk again this evening, and it was getting on towards three o’clock.  About that time, my cell phone rang again and it was Certain Man, calling to see where I was, what was happening and was I about home yet and then he told me the chicken catching schedule for the next morning, and informed me of several other things that I absolutely couldn’t concentrate on.  Around the cell phone, I instructed the young black pleasant faced check out guy to just put it on my card.  He loaded the cart, handed me my sales receipt and membership card, and I headed for the door.  The 55 lb. bag of Miracle Grow made steering the cart just a little challenging, but as I came down the exit aisle, I saw both of my sisters, waiting for me.  They were ready to go, and started to push their carts towards the door.  That’s when I noticed that Youngest sister was having even more trouble with her cart than I was with mine, plus she had purchased one of those lovely big buckets that are so popular this year that have a handle that is all in one with the bucket and wheels that make it easy to move it around.  It is like a wheelbarrow of sorts, except it’s a bucket.  So she was trying to drag this on behind with one hand while pushing her cart with the other, and both items had wills of their own and were going in all directions.

Ever the one to fix things, (will I ever learn???) I reached behind me and caught the front of her cart while pushing mine in front of me.  She objected at first, but when her cart went off to the side again, she saw that there was an advantage in me pulling just a little from the front while she pushed.  My cart was behaving pretty well, but we did have some difficulty getting through the doors while they checked all our purchases.  Finally we were out into the hot sunshine and on our way to the van.  What a parade we must have seemed, and the carts didn’t want to behave, and the bucket sometimes went sideways, and we needed to stop and correct our course numerous times, but we finally got to the car.  Alma looked expectantly at me, then remembered that she had the keys, so she produced them and we began the job of loading.  Certain Man had thoughtfully removed the back seat before we left home, and that was a good thing.  Alma got herself up inside the van so she could arrange things in there.

Suddenly, across the parking lot I heard a commotion.  “Miss, —  Hey, Miss!”  It was the young man who had checked me out.  He came running across the parking lot carrying a purse.  “Hey, Miss!  Is this purse yours?”  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  It was mine.  It was gaping open, just as I must have left it on that little stand thingy that is at the checkout stations, but it was all intact, and I was one relieved lady.  I hadn’t missed it, and since Alma had the keys, I had missed the one thing that would have triggered looking for it.  I was so grateful, and tried to thank him properly, but he was on his way back to the store and his station before I could hardly assimilate what a gift he had given me.  Honestly, I have been in stores before where people left things and the checkout people act like trying to run after the customer to give them what was left behind was too much bother.  They would just turn it into the customer service department and forget it.  I am so glad that I had an energetic and willing person to expend the energy to come after me.  It would have been so disconcerting to have to go back to Dover to get my purse.

And then we came on home, the three of us.  All of us were tired to the bone.  No kidding.  Alma still had to chore, and I had some things to do, as did Sarah, but it was such a pleasant day, and we had such a good time.  My sisters and I used to try to go out once a month — that lasted about three months.  Maybe four.  The older I get the more I realize how much I like my sisters.  We honestly don’t get to see much of eachother.  We go to different churches, and we are all busy with our families.  But every now and then it happens and we get together and have a great time.  Even if we do seem to get ourselves into dilemmas and difficulties, it is still so much fun.

You want to know something interesting?  Probably neither of my sisters will read this post unless someone tells them, “Mary Ann was talking about you on her blog!”  It isn’t that they aren’t interested, but Sarah’s computer just doesn’t cooperate very well with anything she wants to do, and Alma, bless her heart, finds her computer more of a nusiance than anything else.  Which tells you how very different we really are in some things.  But in others — down in our hearts where it really counts, we are soul friends.

And I am so glad.

 

Guess what, Dear Friends!

I can

SHOVEL MY GARDEN

and

IT DOESN’T HURT!!!

(at least it didn’t at the time . . . last night, trying to sleep it was a little different story, but anyhow–)

Do you know how long it has been since I could put a shovel to the ground, lean on it with either foot and not have pain?  or even have the strength to follow through?  I am so pleased this morning for this gift.

It’s a gorgeous day in Delaware.  The sun is shining, the birds are ecstatic, the grass needs mowing,

And the poultry alarm is going bonkers!!!

Certain Man had to make a flying trip home to save the situation.  One of our houses goes out tonight — at less than 7 weeks old.  That is really unusual.  The other one tomorrow night.  Certain Man isn’t a happy camper about the split nights.  He is alone at Kent County’s Plumbing Inspector Department, (colleague is out on an education week, and part timer is pretty much on his own schedule), and with the slight upturn in the building trade, inspections are up.  He has lots to do today.  Since he came home and took care of the alarm, there will be no lunch hour for him.  (He can eat on the run, and he will be okay.) 

I wanted to post a picture from my lunch out with my girlies:

This is Charis’ reaction to crab soup.

She wasn’t quite so against it by the time she had a few more bites.

The other thing that I wanted to share with you were some pictures from Youngest Son’s graduation.

He graduated from Bryn Mawr on May 16th with his Masters in Social Work.  He had gotten a job before he graduated that involves going into the ghetto and evaluating the status of people who are receiving assistance.  It is a heartbreaking job, and “No, Mom, it isn’t very safe . . .” but he is applying for some other jobs, and we are hopeful that there might be another position that will use the training that he has received in counseling.  Anyhow, just a pictorial update to keep you all entertained.

 

There are no males in the undergraduate program at Bryn Mawr, and out of the 124 graduate students, there were only 22 males.  So Lem was one of twenty two graduating that day with around 500 females (One graduation for the whole kit, kat and Kaboodle).  It was pretty exciting! This is Lem on the steps of the building where he has spent a lot of hours in the last year.  I think he is proclaiming his freedom!  Not only from the educational demands, but also, all that estrogen.

 

There is some female influence that he doesn’t get tired of, and that is his lovely wife, Jessica-

This day was an incredible milestone for them, and for their life together.

They have a friend that lives with them who shares rent and living expenses.  She is like a sister to them, and is an integral part of their lives (and consequently, ours).  Rachel Yoder graduated with Lem from Cedarville University last May, and moved to Philadelphia with them and also was in graduate school.  She graduated the day after Lem from UPenn.  Here are the three of them.

Celebrating!

Some random pictures:

Aren’t we a sorry looking crew!  (well, especially that poor soul in the front middle . . .) We had to park across campus and a shuttle bus picked us up and took us over to the graduation area.

 

Charis loves driving anywhere that she doesn’t need to be in a car seat.  And she didn’t have to be restrained in the shuttle, so she was showing off and enjoying the ride.

 

Once at the graduation area, there was a tent set up, and there was both inside and outside seating.  It was HOT in the sun, Cold in the shade, and hard to find a good place.  But it was beautiful.  What an incredible campus!

Jessica’s Mom and Dad are the couple that is sitting, properly and quietly.  The rest of our crew kinda took a long time to decide where to sit.  It really was a mess.  And the chairs weren’t the most comfortable for me.  Somehow the height was wrong for my knees, and it wasn’t exactly easy to sit.  But SIT, we did.  Eventually.

Here is a better picture of Jessica, Lem, Lynn and Larry.  It meant alot to us that Jessica’s Dad and Mom came to Lem’s grad.  It was the most gorgeous day, and I said to Certain Man, “Larry is the one who has sacrificed the most to be at grad today.  On this perfect weather day, I’m certain he would have much rather been out on his boat, but he gave it up to come.”  He has a lovely boat, and he works so hard all the time.  Saturdays and Sundays are his days to get away from it all.  Going to a graduation really wasn’t “getting away” at all.

And we got him all graduated, to our great delight!

 

 

Lem is totally in love with his little niece.  He takes every opportunity he has to develop relationship with her that is something of value to her . . .

. . . but he wasn’t going to let her go off with his diploma.  She tried hard, but he held tight.

 

Here’s our family — minus Raph and Gina, on the lawn after grad.  What a great day!

(But Raph and Gina — How very much we missed you!)

 

 

I wanted to do a big blog about last week.  There really was something almost every day!  Monday we helped pack out the kitchen at Raph and Gina’s trailer — so much fun being together, so sad to think about what we were doing.  We had a good time, things went smoothly and the pizza was good for lunch.  The day was hard for all of us, though. 

Tuesday, I had a huge wash because I had let it go an extra day, and then I baked bread and baby sat for my grandbaby.  That’s fun stuff!

Ah, my sweet Charis Darlin’! 
I never knew I would love a grandbaby so much!

Wednesday, I had a doctor appointment for Cecilia which takes more effort than I care to admit, and then had prescriptions to fill.  I spent some of the day calling people to make sure they knew that we were cleaning the church in the evening in preparation for Josh and Lawina’s reception, and then went up to help clean.  Thanks to all of you who helped — a small but mighty crew and we got it done.  Stanley Steemer had come and cleaned the floors and they were absolutely gorgeous!  The trustees and the deacon finally solved and fixed the problem of the leak and the floor has been dry for over a week now, so that is wonderful, too.  The clean basement looked as good as new!  Hard job done, and this old lady was mighty tired.  Certain Man was, too.  We came home and crashed

Thursday morning, Raph and Gina pulled in around ten o’clock.  Their vehicles were packed to the brim, and they were ready to begin the trip to Ohio.  I looked at my tall son and his sweet wife, and thought that this “good-bye” was something I just could not do.  I had written Gina a letter and tucked it into a little red Bible, and had a letter for Raph, too.  We stood in the middle of the kitchen and Certain Man drew us all into a hug and he prayed for us and them and their future and their trip.  His voice was husky with unshed tears.  (There was nothing “unshed” about mine.)  Certain Man checked some things in his pickup that Raph was going to drive to Ohio, and then Gina got into her Jeep and Raph got into his Dad’s pickup and they were off.  I spent the day either in tears or on the verge.  I finally went and did some necessary shopping for the Wedding reception that was coming up on Saturday night, and so the long day passed.

Friday was our annual potato salad day at the house of my Uncle Jesse and Aunt Gladys. 

250 pounds of potatoes!  We make them all into potato salad for the annual festival at Central Christian School.  Potato salad is served with their famous barbecued chicken dinners, and Aunt Gladys’ recipe is famous for being THE BEST!!!  Over the years, we’ve worked at getting the proportions written down until we are able to be a fine running “potato salad making machine”.  And this is the truth!  When about a dozen people can come into a kitchen and take potatoes piled just like this and turn them into 55 gallons of potato salad less than four hours later– Well, I’d call that pretty good.  Uncle Jesse and Aunt Gladys cooked and peeled all the hardboiled eggs in the days just before, and cooked all the potatoes to perfection, and that is a good bit of the job right there.  If the potatoes aren’t cooked right it makes everything a mess!  This year they were as perfect as an old brown cooked potato can be.  We had wonderful help, and things got done.  What a wonderful day.  I didn’t take pictures of the process this time like usual because I left my camera behind and Deborah brought it when things were almost over.  I’m so sorry, because I like to show the pictures of everyone who helped.  Our crew this year was almost the very same as last year with one or two substitutions.  And so, we got by.

One of the highlights of Potato Salad day for me is seeing the quilt that my Aunt Gladys makes for the auction that is sold at the festival.  For years, she has made a quilt that usually brings the highest price and is so beautifully done.

Here it is!  The next day, her grandson, Jared, put the winning bid in and got it for some over $700.00, I believe.  The highest paid for a quilt that day, but still a steal.  I heard that most of the quilts brought under $300.00 that day.  The economy has hit the quilt business hard.   One of these years, I’m going to save up and I’m going to buy one of those quilts.  Of course, she has lots of grandsons (16, I believe and 6 granddaughters) and they are all hard working and determined.  They just might edge me out.  Some of them have already purchased their “grandma quilt” but there is quite a passel left that are still hopeful.  I hope Aunt Gladys can be around to make lots more quilts.  She did every single quilting stitch herself in this one.  Quite a lady, indeed.

After we finished the potato salad, Certain Man (who grated every single one of those potatoes himself with the help of the grater on my KitchenAid Mixer) and I took a gallon of the potato salad in to his office where he promptly “sold” the whole thing for a $20.00 donation.  Then we came home, and I put my feet up for a while.  Then later that evening, my good friend, Emma and I went up to church to decorate for Josh and Lawina’s wedding reception.  Things went well.  I love working with Emma.  She is such a faithful friend and a good, good help for things like this.  We finished up around 8:30 and called it a day.  A sweet, sweet day it was!

Saturday finally dawned, and I had Certain Man bring my big roaster up from the basement.  I had told my sister, Sarah, that I would make burger bean bake for Josh and Lawina’s reception, and had purchased the ingredients earlier in the week.  Certain Man looked at the bacon and hamburger frying and looked like he was debating whether he should say something or not.  He finally did.  “Hon, how much burger bean bake are you going to make?  I hope you aren’t planning to make too much.  So often we have so much left over after things like this and we hardly know what to do with it.”  I knew that what he was saying was true, but lately there have been some situations where gatherings have run out of food, and I really didn’t want that to happen.  I looked at all my cans of different beans and decided to use half of what I had purchased “for starters” and to see how things looked from there.  By the time I had the bacon and hamburger and the extras in using about half of what I had bought was about exactly right.  I stirred and tasted and used my good friend, Ethel Campbell’s recipe in our community’s red cookbook for most of what I put in until I was satisfied. 

 . . .  And I will be back — You can read this far for now.  Eldest Daughter wants to take me to lunch for a belated Mother’s Day treat, and I am going to go!  I have some more pictures, and a few more things to tell you, and then this past week will be documented, and it will be time to go on to other things.

Until then —

Mary Ann signing off

What an incredible week!

It all started last Sunday night with a birthday party for one of our favorite people, Gary Burlingame.

Gary turned Seventy! We planned a party! We invited his sister, Elaine, and she came! We surprised him but good. Gary showed up an hour early for what he thought was a church cookout. The decorating committee hadn’t even been there yet! He meandered around outside, then came in and conveniently sat in the living room where he couldn’t really see the rest of the house.

Karen and James came in and set everything up — balloons, money train and all, and he never caught wind of anything. Kent and April brought the cake into the kitchen in a big white box and he never noticed. Of course, everyone was bringing food and such, so he wasn’t paying too much attention. Elaine came late so as not to spoil the surprise, and stayed out of sight until Daniel had led in prayer. Then Dave Hertzler started Happy Birthday, Ilva carried in the cake with Elaine following, and WOW! Did we ever surprise our Gary!!! I really wish someone would have had a camera ready, but even in this series of pictures, he hadn’t quite recovered.

This is the sweet little train that Karen set up and the church family helped to “decorate” for Gary.  She drew the tracks on newsprint, and filled in the landscape. The money that was given was rolled up in little tiny rolls and attached all over the train.

Gary couldn’t believe his eyes. It didn’t take him long to relieve the train of its cargo. He said he didn’t want it to be overloaded to the point of damage.  This might have been a legitimate concern.  I understand there was over $200.00 on there.

Gary, Karen and Elaine discussing the dynamics of surprising Gary. This was such great fun!

And there was other food as well — wonderful New Orleans sausage bisque there in the foreground made by Ruby really hit the spot on the cold, cold night, and there were so many other things, too. Ah, Church Family! What a great group you are! Thanks for making it such a memorable evening for Gary. For bringing such good food, for staying to help clean up, for your generous, open hearts. And Gary, just in case you didn’t know — We think you are wonderful!!!

. . . and that was just Sunday night —

Then there was Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and another Sunday.  I will try to post more.  I just haven’t been able to keep up.