I Promised Pictures

These photos were taken at Devil's Den State Park in NW Arkansas. It was overcast so the pictures are not as bright as I would like.

I'm Flattered

Mad Priest has listed me in his links! What an honor! I always check to see what Mad Priest has to say before I even go to my Blog and Lo and Behold! I was listed in his naughty person list. I'm afraid that I may be in over my head, the folks who comment on Mad Priest are very bright and witty and get right to the point. When I first started blogging I had plans to vent my anger at what is going on in the world in general and in the US and the Episcopal Church in particular but I soon ran out of things to say. After all, you can only say that George Bush is an idiot so many times before it gets old. Don't get me started on the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, because I start to foam at the mouth. So, Mad Priest and friends are great references, they say what I am trying to say but generally much better than I. After all, I was a math teacher not an English teacher.

I do hold one distinction. I believe that I am the only person to serve as a Deputy to General Convention five times and never be assigned to a committee. It used to make me a mad priest, but now I think it's just funny.

We're Back

We returned this afternoon from a Thanksgiving visit to our son and grandchildren in Arkansas. We had a great time. For the first three days the weather was fabulous. Highs in the 70's and lows in the 50's. Then it got cold. And Rainy. And colder. When we left this morning the temperature was 23 degrees, same as Denver!. It got cold here too, my max/min thermometer showed 17 degrees as the minimum while we were gone.

We went to Devil's Den State Park one day. It is a fascinating area, both the geology and the scenery. Well maintained trails that an old man with poor balance could negotiate without much trouble. Our grandson joined a couple who were exploring The Devil's Den Cave. According to the map, the cave is only 550 ft. long, but it took them over an hour to go to the end and back. Some crawling and squeezing required. It's a good thing I didn't go in, I probably would have gotten stuck in the "Fat Man's Squeeze" and I would have had to stay there until I lost enough weight to get unstuck.
I'll post some photos tomorrow. We're glad to be home. Sophia our cat is glad we're back, she hasn't left our side.

Thanksgiving in Arkansas

Well, we fly to Arkansas Friday. We're both anxious to see our grandson for the first time in 12 years. I have no idea what he looks like, I assume he resembles his dad. We'll soon see. We also get to see our two granddaughters too. Sam is in the 9th grade and Cass is in the 8th. I imagine they will be taller than both of us. Certainly they will be taller than Jean. The last time we saw them they were getting pretty tall. It seems strange to have three tall willowy blonds as grand daughters and a 21 year old grandson. It truly is a time to be thankful.

Checking In

It's been a while since I wrote anything, so I thought I would check in. It has been an interesting week so far. Monday I went to a friend's house to pick up her kitchen table to take it to my shop to fix it. The base had broken when they moved it and I offered to repair it. So, I took the top off and proceeded to carry the base out to my pickup. She held the door and storm door open for me as I headed down the porch steps. Do you need any help, she asked. No, I said as I took the first step down the four concrete steps to the sidewalk, it's not heavy. With that I misses the first step and headed head first for the sidewalk. In a feat of supreme agility for a 68 year old man, I twisted my body to the left so that my body and the table hit the grass and not the sidewalk. Fortunately, I escaped relatively unscathed; a wrenched shoulder and a hyper-extended elbow that only hurt for a day or so. I would like to report that I am ok and I have completed the repairs to the table, including the leg that broke as I fell off the steps. All's well that ends well. I guess I need to look out for those steps and watch my step.

The Prodigal Grandson

Things have been a little busy for the past couple of weeks and I haven't written anything. I just checked my archives and realize that I haven't written about our most exciting news. Our son's first marriage ended badly and his ex-wife got custody of their only child, Danny, named after me and born on my birthday. They lived in the Phoenix area 1200 miles from our little town in Eastern Oregon. We tried to keep contact; visiting him when we were in Phoenix, sending birthday and Christmas cards (often with gift cards enclosed). Our son moved to Dallas, Texas so we no longer visited Phoenix. Then the card we sent was returned with the inscription, "He doesn't live here." and just like that we lost track of our first grandchild. Ken still paid child support, but the payments went to the court, so he didn't have an address for him either. It really hurts to lose a grandchild, but after a while the pain subsided. Then, out of the blue, our son told us that his daughters had located Dan on the internet through "Facebook". And, surprise of surprises Ken called and said that he had talked with Dan and he lived only about 100 miles away. The next surprise was that Dan, who was now 21 had moved in with him. The lost boy was found after 12 years. We have talked with him on the phone and it is amazing how much he sounds like his father. We will see him at Thanksgiving when we fly to Arkansas. I find it hard to wait. I try to imagine what he looks like and have trouble equating the 9 year old in the last picture of him that we have with the young adult we will soon see. I may embarrass myself when we meet again, I will probably cry, an emotion that I have discovered nearer the surface as I age. They will be tears of joy, and I won't really be embarrassed. The one once lost has been found. We'll roast the fatted turkey.

Let's Worry About The Poor

I've had it. Up to here. I'm getting sick and tired of all the waffling and posturing about who is in communion with whom in the Anglican Communion. The Archbishop of Canterbury is sending mixed messages about what it takes to be in communion with the rest of the Anglican Communion, and in the meantime, people are dying of starvation every day. Not just a few, but hundreds of thousands of people die every day while we argue about whether the Episcopal Church should have openly gay bishops or a woman Presiding Bishop. Wake up folks! God's call is not to be in polity with Canterbury or Angola or Nigeria -- it is to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and dying, and to love one another. Is it any wonder why The Episcopal Church and Northern Tier Anglican Churches are dwindling in numbers. People in the pews don't want to hear this crap and quite honestly neither do I. If we would just heed the call of Jesus to care for his sheep the whole world would be better off. So, Primates, take your miters and put them in a warm dark place and remember what being a Christian is all about. We have to love our brothers and sisters, gay, straight, bi, or what ever sexual tag you want to hang on them. Being a Christian is not being a bedroom police officer. Frankly, it's none of your business!