Sweet Apples

When I realized the recycling truck had gone by (after doing some errands), I went back to get our big blue box.  Opening the gate, I looked out for it and couldn't see it.  So I did some back alley wandering, nope, it was gone.  Our neighbors were still there, others brought in I guess....so someone snitched it?  That tends to happen, but this was our first box, a ten dollar price tag on that and only the 3rd week out.  Frustrated, I went one way down the alley, then the other scanning the ground, other driveways.  A short way up the alley, I came upon 3 chubby kids, one with a small backpack and hat, holding onto a basket of apples.  Nothing out of the ordainary.  It actaully looked cute, faces looking like they were trying to sort out a problem.

As I came up, the little girl with the hat on said, "Is this your apple tree?", pointing to a large tree behind a fence, huge delicious apples hanging there for all to see.  "Nope", I said, "but those are great looking apples!"  She looked up and said, oh so innocently, "Do you think you could climb up there and get some for me?"  The other faces looked at me, questioningly..."will you?" painted on their faces.  Well, I know I used to climb trees like a monkey, but now, well, accident insurance would have to come first and then a very heave-ho type of effort might be made.  They saw my consternation..."ok, Johnnie, you go up there then!".  The girl in the hat, I noted was the expedition leader and took charge effectively. The gate was broken, looked like no one cared about that tree, hundreds of apples lay underneath it, some with wasps devouring its meat.  I decided to stick around, in case any "owner" of the tree came out of the house and make sure the kids didn't get injured.  Plus they were soooo darn cute!!  Johnnie shook the tree, down came apples, he shook it again, down came more apples.  For about 15 minutes the 2 other girls loaded their little basket, their arms, her little backpack with apples.  I offered to get a bag for them, while Johnnie was saying that they could "share all these apples with the community".  Really, he was cute and sincere! 

I lead them like a pied piper, to my back gate.  So many questions they had, "Is this where you live?  Do you have puppies?  This is so nice!  Can I use your bathroom?  What is that?"  The last question, was directed to a tomato I pulled off my plant while they were swinging on our garden swing, and the cucumber I found in my little garden patch.  Johnnie had the answers, the girls were in wonder!  I introduced them to Cyclone, her ball, the Furby Park on the other side of the road, and walking back to the gate, one of them quired, "Why are you so nice 'ta us?".  THAT was so cool, I love that question!!  I thought about it and then said, "You know God loves kids"....Johnnie piped in, "And He made kids"..... "Yah! and I love kids, so He brought You here, so I could be nice to you."  "Oh".  Little Hat girl, looked at me and said, "Can I go up and play with your kids toys?"  "Nope, not today, their not home plus I have some work to do", I answered.  The other girl asked for a banana....alright, time to go!  "Thanks for visiting me!" I said.  They filed out the gate, with their apples and I'm sure 50 more questions.  My mind went back to the recycling bin, who cares?  I just spent 30 minutes with the three best cuties in the alley.  Go figure....

five guys

We decided to take a walk after supper, the boys and our dog, Cyclone.  Off to 7-11 with free slurpee coupons, a super blow pop for me and some fresh air to go.  Coming down our porch steps, I glanced across the street...5 young guys, around 15-17 years old were checking out the boarding house windows.  Boarding houses usually have one maintance persons and 3-4 people living in individual rooms, sharing bathrooms or kitchens.  I had never seen these guys there before and it looked a little suspicious (slightly) when one of them found a window open and hopped in.  I started across the street (with Silas and Nate in tow, and Cyclone...) and shouted, "Hey!  What are you guys up to?" (good starting line, eh?).  "Oh", one guy said, slouching over his bike, "we are looking for Billy Jones who lives here."  'Good name' I thought, who is ever called "Billy Jones"?  "I don't think he lives here, you better get out"  I said firmly...meanwhile my kids and the dog are standing there wondering what the heck I'm doing taking to obvious gang members (or related activities kind of people?)  The one guy was busily opening the front door lock for his buddies, they rode off on their bikes and I looked up at this guy, questioning...he said to me, "the guy that lives here owes me thirty bucks".   So old braino says back...."I don't think he's home, better come back later!"   Amazingly, he looks all calm and says "oh, ok".  And he gets on his bike and leaves.

Meanwhile, I am scanning the 'hood for help, a neighbor, a obviously not "bad guy" type, anyone who might be able to help me intervene.  I look up at the top window and the matainance guy is looking down, so I gesture him to come down.  Well, in a moment he does, with half a iron bed post for company, ('looking for a few bad guys eh?').  The kids and I describe what happens and he takes over, searching his property for any lurking teens....and we saunter away, very much aware that we forgot our back window slightly open.  Will they come back for revenge?  What if we see them again?  After our 7-11 visit, we visualize the "Blow Pop" manuver that will send them running next time they try something like that.  Or booby traps, or Nate's baby hamster that will bite their finger and send them howling.  The boys had lots of good ideas, creativity abounds when incidents like this occur!

I'm glad I was able to help a neighbor today, I'm glad these guys weren't into getting violent or their way right then.  I'm glad for kids who take it in stride and we can pray at night for the guys who need to get their conscience revived and alive again.  I have so much to be thankful for.  That's it, lights out.

Harley Heaven

I love Harleys...in fact, in my profile I mention that I will be presented one at the pearly gates.  My cousin, one of the coolest dudes I know (besides my brother dudes at church, and my hubby and boys) has one.  One day I remember walking into a Harley Davidson dealership and gawking at the chrome and metal.  I was going to ask the lady if they ever have 50-70% off sales...until I realized I wasn't at Wal-Mart or Super store looking for toliet paper or pork chops.  My husband's boss has one too, and he's the leader of a super great ministry to addicts in this city....look'n cool, eh?

Last year, I had the best conversation with an old friend in Minneapolis.  We were travelling through on the fourth of July, and had just seen a great display of fireworks that evening and walked home together with our families.  We were talking about heaven and cars.  She said that when she gets to heaven, she'd be presented a Jaguar (a certain color, I don't remember what).  She is not the kind I would think that likes cool cars...but I laughed and told her that I always thought I'd get a Harley.  We looked at each other and realized what we were saying!!  What makes us think that we'd get a human made metal contraption at the end of our lives, and think we will be the happiest?  Wasn't it ironic to think that after a life of sacrifice and good deeds, we'd get the best this old world has to offer?  It was like saying "We have a right to what we never got in  our life!!  God owes us!!".  I had never thought of it that way, just a consolation prize at the end, something to look forward too, when "everyone else has one....".  Talk about twisted.

So now I've got myself un-twisted.  What do I look foward too, when the Bible says that we  need to leave all this behind?  Simply, THE BEST.  My Creator has promised the BEST, that I can't even imagine.  So, poo-poo the Harley and give me what He's got coming.  Maybe I can call up my cuz and ask for a ride on his........

Inna City Liven

Ever have those days where things seem like, way too wierd but you go with it as some kind of life experience?  That you know one day when your 92, toothless in a nursing home and reminse with your grand children (getting you to drink from a little white straw), will seem rather silly or dramatic or dangerous?  One Sunday, a few weeks ago, I ran in to church a little late.  It was ok, we're a casual bunch.  Nodding hello to my friends, I eased into the seat beside the mornings speaker, whom I haven't seen since Seminary days and shook his hand and welcomed him to our service.  Things were going on nicely, and I was leaning over queitly filling him in on some comments in our prayer and share time and I felt an itchy crawl along my scalp.  "Darn!" I thought, "keep focused, stay pleasent, act normal".  For pete's sake! Lice have a way of making themselves known at the worst times.  Our family contracted the little beasts sometime end of June, probably from the primary school our kids go to.  To be knowing what is crawling in my hair, sitting in a public place, putting on a "spiritual smile" and my head is screaming to be dealt with is a funny, sad thing that I will chuckle about as I sip on my tepid apple juice in a nursing home one day.

Another thing I'll reminice about is the recent gang related shooting in our park across the street a few days ago.  CTV was parked 2 doors down, with their satellite arm up and running as the boys and I unpacked from a few days at the cottage.  I wanted to saunter down and ask the women leaning against the van what the news was today, in the "murder capital", here on Furby.  Steve quickly filled in that the night before, 2 gangs were shooting at each other from opposite sides of the park.  A few bullets actually hit the neighbors house, luckily nobody was home at the time.  So as I thought about these things, later that afternoon, I was amazed that kids still played there, families enjoyed the grass and shade and visited with each other on the picnic table.  Life goes on. 

The last months have been full of life's challenges and hang-ups, peace and sudden whirlwinds.  Stinky wading pools needing cleaning, steaks being eaten with friends, a laugh at a quirky Charlie Chaplin pushing in his hip that keeps popping out when he's dancing with a wealthy single lady at a party, floating down a river current on a rubber tube, followed by 3 boys and a crocodile, dino and various other floaties (dog on crocodile), mowing lawns, a few arguments, sleeping in.  (don't forget the lice)....life goes on.  Neighbors chat, we replace a bunch of flowers from a destroyed bulevard box, we answer questions like "can I have some change to get by until tomorrow?", we meet 100 church members from the Burmese church on beach 1 1/2 hours from our house "Ne kwan de lah?" we laugh and joke with them, amazed we are there at the same time.  Old heart aches bubble up, cry to God and peace.  A prayer walk with another house church in the area, their elders join us, two members are blind but love the commentary and the walk itself.  They passionatly ask God to help us in our lives here, on Furby, as we stand together on the sidewalk outside our home.  Life goes on....


When I'm old and grey, what will I remember and what will I forget about? I will certainly have perspective, I will have hindsight, regrets? Promises never fulfulled?  What will count as I look back?  One thing I know I will do,  I will gather the grand kids around, turn the dvd on play, and laugh till my sides ache, watching Charlie Chaplin confound the rich, proud and selfish with the hip that keeps unlocking, the slippery dance floor that makes him do amazing splits, a total calculated berserk life that is showered with an unbelievable touch of hilarity and pulsating joy of life. LIFE goes on!!