Tulip in the Thicket

The Wright grandkids call Mike, "Grampa" which sounds like "Pompa" when they say it. And "Pompa" is the same word they use for Spongebob... I'm just sayin...

Henry, Marcail and Naomi happily playing at Grammy's house! One of their favorite things to play with is left-over church bulletins! They played "church" with them and the girls wrapped their little plastic baby dolls in them. (See Naomi in last photo.) Things about kids I'd almost forgotten: 1. It doesn't matter if they (or I) stay in p.j.s all morning if we're hangin out at home. 2. Kids can be contented for a very long while with left-over church bulletins, or other unexpected items (a feather from a pillow, a tape measure, a big pair of boots and baskets of various sizes.) 3. Kids love having books read to them. And I love reading them. 4. Kids love being sung to... and they are not at all critical of made-up tunes or words. 5. The song "Jesus Loves Me" never gets old. 6. Kids can be entertained for quite awhile by emptying water from a small plastic pool one cup at a time. "Pour the water in the bird bath." Pour the water on th

I don't know why. I just like it. I like the idea. I like the tune. I like the words. What more can I say? (Okay, the cat part creeps me out, but we're talkin Pterodactyls here.) This just reminds me of some tune, concept and illustrations Mike could have come up with... and made money! I don't know why.

For a brief update on my Mom: She is doing better. She actually ate a whole meal in the hospital today. She's receiving I.V. antibiotics and "fluids". She is a bit perkier and thinks she'd rest better at home, which I understand, but is assured of some nutrients in hospital and call me weird, but I'm kinda "into" I.V. drugs (or juice) for getting to the issue. She may be dismissed tomorrow or the next day. I thank any of you who prayed and who are praying still. She definitely has a ways to go to regain strength and health. Thank you dearly and sincerely. Tab and the kids arrived safely and on schedule! They are doing well. We had a 4th b-day party for our first grandson, Sean here last evening. Sean's Mom is our daughter, Olivia . Tabitha, our daughter who is visiting from Florida, posted some pics on her blog and at this point I've not even had my camera in operation, but I may yet! Blessings!

Tuesday is the day! We're praying for a safe and happy flight. Tabitha and her sweet kids, three of our grandchildren, are arriving on a plane from Florida to visit for several weeks! We're so excited! We'll miss Daddy James. James has to stay home and work. He's going to miss his family, but I'm so thankful he has provided them plane tickets and his blessing to come to Kansas! Thanks James and may God bless you as you faithfully love your family! More photos to come, Lord willing!

Wheat Harvest Has Begun! We're not wheat farmers, but we live among wheat fields and farmers and every year we are excited to spot the first of the fields being harvested as we did on our drive through the Smoky Hills and fields a few evenings ago! Blessings! PSALM 67 God be gracious to us and bless us, And cause His face to shine upon us-- Selah. That Your way may be known on the earth, Your salvation among all nations. Let the peoples praise You, O God; Let all the peoples praise You. Let the nations be glad and sing for joy; For You will judge the peoples with uprightness And guide the nations on the earth. Selah. Let the peoples praise You, O God; Let all the peoples praise You. The earth has yielded its produce; God, our God, blesses us. God blesses us, That all the ends of the earth may fear Him.

The Lord sold Mike's house yesterday! Enjoy a lively piano solo in celebration with us! Thanks to Laurel for calling our attention to this piece (March of the Dwarfs) by Edvard Grieg!

Our 19-year-old adopted daughter left home. (I insert the word "adopted", not as an excuse, disclaimer or explanation, but as information that adds to the complexity of her leaving. She was adopted by us at the age of 7.) She ran away from home to be more excruciatingly honest. We know where she is, thanks to living in a small town where it is fairly difficult to live with much anonymity, but we haven’t spoken to her since last Sunday afternoon. She was given a ride to a nearby town by a friendly (thankfully) farmer. She is staying in a “shelter” that is “safe”, but not as safe as home. The facts are wearisome and for Christine’s sake I won’t go into them here. I said I didn’t want to write this post. Then why did I? One: I’m asking for prayer for Christine. Please pray for honesty and truth. Pray for safety and protection. Pray for repentance. She is 19 in years, but not in emotional, intellectual or mental development. Please pray for Mike and me and others who love her an

Since we're on the subject of beautiful music and it wasn't too long ago that I posted about the Ghost Cow , I got to wondering if Miss Estella Cow is somewhere out there singing a most udderly heartfelt and tragical song...

Music  When I was a child I once sat sobbing on the floor Beside my mother's piano As she played and sang For there was in her singing A shy yet solemn glory My smallness could not hold And when I was asked Why I was crying I had no words for it I only shook my head And went on crying Why is it that music At its most beautiful Opens a wound in us An ache a desolation Deep as a homesickness For some far-off And half-forgotten country I've never understood Why this is so But there's an ancient legend From the other side of the world That gives away the secret Of this mysterious sorrow For centuries on centuries We have been wandering But we were made for Paradise As deer for the forest And when music comes to us With its heavenly beauty It brings us desolation For when we hear it We half remember That lost native country We dimly remember the fields Their fragrant windswept clover The birdsongs i

One of my High School Yearbooks Annual The yearbooks are out today, with the ink barely dry on their gleaming pages, the faint puke-smell of the new bindings. On the bus, shagged and curly heads converge over the disappointing spread of candid shots on centre facing pages - random snaps where everyone who matters is blurred or too tiny or was looking the wrong way when the shutter clicked, and after they've each checked out their own and each other's mug shots, and those of an acknowledged hunk or two ('Too bad guys, doesn't he look retarded in that picture?') you can almost feel the thought rise: Is that it then? four years reduced to this thin, already-thumbed album of postage-stamp grins and badly cropped halftones in a grey collage of moments no one remembers? Tomorrow they'll tote it back to school though, to whip from their graffitied bags in the mandatory feeding frenzy for autographs — everyone's, please.

Mike and I looked at an old lot in town. All that remains from the original homestead is a rickety shed, some abandoned gates and fencing and these trees that seemed hungry for metal!

Mike and I were married 29 years ago on my folk's 30th Anniversary! Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad! Thank you for sharing your date and hosting our wedding in your lovely backyard! We love you! Mom and Dad

Fireflies In the soft dark night when the wind is still and bullfrogs croak at the bottom of the hill, the fireflies reach inside their coat pockets and screw little light bulbs into their sockets so they can fly through the night and play without bumping their heads or losing their way. Aileen Fisher (Liv and I play a fun little game to see who spots the first one!)

(This was written awhile back. Now seems like a good time to publish it as I think ahead to our upcoming 29 th wedding anniversary on June 7 th !) The photo was taken several months before we were married. Dig the matching hair dos? Today during lunch, Mike, Christine, Wayne and I were talking about the newest baby born in our church fellowship named Amos Augustin. We were wondering about the name meaning for 'Amos', so Christine rounded up a baby name book called What's in a Name? over 700 Names and their Meanings complied by Francis, Hartzell and Palmquist . This book also lists Suggested Lifetime Scripture Verses for each name. Amos means Bearer of a Burden; Compassionate Spirit and the suggested lifetime verse is Romans 12:9-10. We looked up all our names. We looked up "Michael" and read his suggested lifetime verse: "Because while physical training is of little benefit, godliness is beneficial in every way; it holds promise for this and for

11 things about my Dad in no particular order: 1. He shows integrity by working hard and being industrious! He is retired, but he still works hard at home. Mom tells me about all the ways he helps! When our family used to go to the lake on weekends, we usually left on Friday evenings. There were so many times we were almost out the door and the phone would ring. I could almost always bet that the call would delay our going to the lake since Dad was a Refrigeration Repairman and go figure, in the heat of summer if a unit was down, Dad got a call! I remember whining to Dad, "Don't answer it Dad! Can't they call someone else?" But good ol Dad's integrity ruled his conviction and he answered the call! Sometimes he could send another worker out, but often he had to take the call. I was disappointed then, but now I appreciate it for being the right thing to do. 2. He is not afraid to show emotion whether watching a sad movie, talking about someone special or think

Somewhere near 3:30 A.M. I staggered to the bathroom then shuffled back to bed. As I was dozing off to sleep, I heard a cow say, " Mooooo . Mooo ." (This is not a Far Side cartoon post. The cow actually only said, "Mooooo. Mooo.") This said cow sounded as if she was in our backyard not far from our bedroom window. We live in a small town, so it was a strange and out-of-place noise. When we lived in the country on 45 acres and a neighbor down the road rented our pasture for his cattle, it was not strange to hear cows mooing anytime, night or day, but hearing the cow moo in town where there are not cows or pastures caused me to say out loud to my snoring husband, "Mike. Are you awake?" (duh) Mike takes a slow deep stirring breath and as in slow motion says, "Huh?" Again I say, "Did you hear a cow?" "Huh?", he says again coming-to a bit more. I repeat, "Did you hear a cow? I think I just heard a cow. But don't worry a

I could go several directions here. I could say too much and still not enough. So instead of going all the directions jammed in my thoughts, I’ll just land on the sweetness (Can I say 'sweetness'?) of coming upon conversation between Mike and two young men in our fellowship this afternoon. Among other topics, they were trying to mentally compose lists of their top ten favorite bands. Jars of Clay was mentioned and I agree. I was listening to music in the car recently when this song came up which I’ve listened to so often, but never really heard until that day in the car. So, at the risk of sounding too depressed, I post these songs. 2 Corinthians 12:9 Frail (Jars of Clay) Convinced of my deception I've always been a fool I fear this love reaction Just like you said I would A rose could never lie About the love it brings And I could never promise To be any of those things Chorus: If I was not so weak If I was not so cold If I was not so scared of being broken Growing o