A Model of the Church and Farm my Dad Grew up on Made by Ordean Synstelien

 Two weeks ago Bruce and I went to Knoxville, Tennessee. We saw the Smokey Mountains, listened to bluegrass music, and visited some of my relatives. My uncle Ordean has a workshop where he spends time making things out of wood and polishing rocks. He really does nice work-- the lid on the baptismal font in the front of the church even lifts off!

The model below if of the Lutheran Church my father's family attended. Note the hymnals-- they donated the 'new blue hymnals' in memory of my dad's brother, Duane, who was hit by a train as a teenager.

            

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

 

 My uncle, Ordean, made a model of the farm he and my dad grew up on. There weren't very many pictures to go by so he got together with his brothers and sister to remember how things were inside and out.



His work is very detailed.  I really felt like I'd stepped back in time.  Life was a lot different then.  I could see how much more work was involved with everything they did, but that was the way it was--it was ordinary to them. 

This is a model of the house they lived in (above).  The school (below). 


This is a picture of the school they went to.






The restrooms were a little different back in the day.

 

Attitude

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on

(left)Katherine Martin, Donna Feagley
 and Diana Kellogg(right)
Doyne Moreland (background)

(Taken at the LakeRidge Crossing Clubhouse)

the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.”

Charles R. Swindoll quotes (American Writer and Clergyman, b.1934)

Katherine Martin (center) founded C.J.'s Bus in response to her personal experience surviving a disaster.  This bus goes to disaster sites to help care for young children that have parents busy with what the weather placed before them.  The bus is named after her child C.J. who died in the 2006 tornado that hit Evansville and Newburgh.  The other women in the photograph are from the Altrusa International of Evansville club.  They are presenting Katherine with baby dolls and match box cars for the kids on the bus.

Playing with the Cats

Pets are for Life, Not Just for Christmas

Pets are for life, not just for Christmas.



Each of us waits for the joy of a home.


Take one of us in and you'll never go kiss less,


So long as you treat us as one of your own.

                                            Nicholas Gordon



 

I went along with my daughter, Janine, to play with the kittens at the Warrick Humane Society yesterday.  It was a real good time once we got past the initial smell. When we walked through the main door, we were hit with whoowee something fierce.  It was like I had put my nose directly into a dog's mouth. with each breath I wanted to gag and I actually did a couple times while I waited for my daughter to sign us in.  I admit I gag easily, but it was pretty bad.  I thought please God make the Cat Room a better smelling place!  It had to be.  I told her I'd spend some time with her here.  But, I can't breathe!  She'd forgive me if I just couldn't breathe, wouldn't she?  Janine has always loved animals-- lately I've been trying to spend more time with her doing some of the things she enjoys doing.  Lucky for me the cat room was tolerable.  It smelled like catfood--a big step up from whatever we were smelling before.

There were some cute little kittens in this room.  All the cats loved Janine.  The black and white one on her lap couldn't get enough attention.  We spent about an hour with them before we had to brace ourselves for the smell in the hall .  When we left the room we expected the worst, but it was gone.  I don't know what they did, but that putrid cloud of stink was completely gone.  And everybody lived happily ever after.  The end.  Or-- did they?  When we got home our cat Biggles sniffed Janine and when she tried to pick him up, he hissed at her.  Someone got their feelings hurt.

                                                   

Cats

There's a cat sitting on my foot

My leg is feeling numb

I really should be nasty

And kick it up the bum

But, it's so cute, I have no choice

I just have to let it sleep

So, I'm momentary paralyzed

And lost the use of both my feet

And now the other cats arrived

So enchanting and appealing

The purring gets so loud and shrill

That I lose my sense of hearing

And then she jumps onto my lap

And rests her head upon my arm

Further 'paralyzing me'

With her captivating charm

And so, each day I spend my life

Like some disabled fool

Thank you God for inventing the cat

I didn't know you could be so

CRUEL!

By Paul Bearer

Janine and her friend Eddie

Janine and her friend, Eddie.

The Town Of Don't-You-Worry

Well here they are.  My kids. At one time or another I have worried over each one of them. Matthew, (the one in the middle : ) ), is going to try my fragile nerves next-- he is going to Alaska soon.  Lots of people go to Alaska, right?  Big deal.  Sounds like an interesting place to visit. I agree.  It is an interesting place to visit.  In fact my husband and I chose to go, to that place where the sun never sets in June, on our honeymoon trip, 27 years ago.  If you imagine renting a car, a little hiking and climbing, a ferry boat ride to see the glaciers, and a picnic on the beach, then you imagine the sort of trip we took; the sort of trip most people take.  Matthew and his friends are not like most people, however.  They will be kayaking in water that contains whales, white sharks, and all sorts of sea creatures.  They will be hiking in the back country where there are no trails.  I'm reassurred they'll be fine because they have a map, compass, and have read literature on the habits of bear.  There will be very little communication so it's just me and my lovely imagination to fill the silence while he's away.  As much as this worries me, I'm thankful that he dares to live.  To taste life in a big way.  The experiences he has, have been/will be wonderous.  They're all smart boys-- while they are in Alaska, I think I'll visit The Town Of Don't-You-Worry.

The Town Of  Don't-You-Worry

There's a town called Don't-You-Worry,

On the banks of River smile;

Where the Cheer-Up and Be-Happy

Blossom sweetly all the while.

Where the Never-Grumble flower

Blooms beside the fragrant Try,

And the Ne'er-Give-Up and Patience

Point their faces to the sky.

In the valley of Contentment,

In the province of I-Will,

You will find this lovely city,

At the foot of No-Fret Hill.

There are thoroughfares delightful

In this very charming town,

And on every hand are shade trees

Named the Very-Seldom-Frown.

Rustic benches quite enticing

You'll find scattered here and there;

And to each a vine is clinging

Called the Frequent-Earnest-Prayer.

Everybody there is happy

And is singing all the while,

In the town of Don't-You- Worry,

On the banks of River Smile.

                           I. J. Bartlett

The Drum Hut

A few weeks ago we traveled through Kenosha, Wisconsin the very city our youngest child was born in.  We lived there eleven years and have many fond memories.  The picture above is my husband Bruce, me, and my friend Heather Poyner owner of The Drum Hut.  Heather plays the African Drums and wrote a book about her experiences playing in Drum Circles.

Heather is a wonderfully creative person with some interesting life stories. She's a writer, a musician, and a great cook. Having lived in Greece, she picked up the taste for Greek food and even thought about opening a Greek Restaurant for awhile. She can cook all kinds of things and used to cover the Food Page for the Kenosha News. 

   Heather's daughter, Lauren, is a creative person as well. She painted the dancers on the wall in The Drum Hut for her mother.

 Check out Heather's web site at http://www.rhythmintheround.com/ .

All her drums were fun to look at and listen to.  I especially got a kick out of the square patriotic looking drum, however.  That drum had a great sound and was homemade with napkins and packaging tape. What a fun activity to do with  your children or grandchildren!

                                                       

Drop A Pebble In The Water by James W. Foley

Drop a Pebble in the Water

Drop a pebble in the water; just a splash, and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Spreading, spreading from the center, flowing on out to the sea.
And there is no way of telling where the end is going to be.

Drop a pebble in the water; in a minute you forget,
But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,
And those little waves a-flowing to a great big wave have grown;
You've disturbed a mighty river just by dropping in a stone.

Drop an unkind word, or careless; in a minute it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on.
They keep spreading, spreading, spreading from the center as they go,
And there is no way to stop them, once you've started them to flow.

Drop an unkind word, or careless; in a minute you forget;
But there's little waves a-flowing, and there's ripples circling yet,
And perhaps in some sad heart a mighty wave of tears you've stirred,
And disturbed a life was happy ere yu dropped that unkind word.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness; just a flash and it is gone;
But there's half-a-hundred ripples circling on and on and on,
Bearing hope and joy and comfort on each splashing, dashing wave
Till you wouldn't believe the volume of the one kind word you gave.

Drop a word of cheer and kindness; in a minute you forget;
But there's gladnness still a-swelling, and there's joy a-circling yet,
And you've rolled a wave of comfort whose sweet music can be heard
Over miles and miles of water just by dropping one kind word.
                                                                           James W. Foley