I will never promise to liveblog again. Restricted use
of the single computer that was being shared by all 15
persons on the trip, a busy schedule that left little
or no time for the shared use of said computer, and just
general tiredness are my excuses...take them or leave
them, there they are.

We fell in love, again, with the people from Torre Fuerte
church. I shared a little of the concrete work that the
men in the group worked on. The Bible School was equally
successful.

Last year there were 20-25 children daily. We decided to
prepare crafts for 48, but were thrown into a bit of a
tizzy by having 60-70 daily.

What was most wonderful was seeing the same children that
were there last year in addition to the new ones. In the
older class last year there were only two girls. Both
prayed to receive Christ. Not only are they still part of
the church, but their families are as well. Numbers are
not the key, but rather continued growth in Christ is. This
year the older class had over a dozen children. May God grant
them new life as well.

Busy. Too busy to liveblog this mission trip. Here, though,
are a few pictures from the work.

















The guys have been preparing to pour a concrete roof. It will go over
classrooms and a kitchen.

















Mexican workers did the actual running up and down the ramp with
the buckets of concrete.
















Everybody is proud of all that was accomplished.

You know you live in Mayberry when you are in G'ma
Opal's yard and the neighbor who lives on down the
gravel waves as she drives by, and then she suddenly
brakes and backs up, pulls into the drive, leans out
the window and says, "Why aren't you in Mexico? Is
something wrong?"

Further proof comes when she, after your snakebitten
Joel explanation, says, "Did you know Junior D. (I'll
keep the last name private for his sake) had a huge
heart attack today?" Then she pulls out of the drive
and in 1-2 minutes Aunt Jenny pulls in, hops out of
her car and says, "Junior D. had a heart attach today
and is in the hospital."

Anne Shirley says if you go in your bedroom at midnight,
and then you pull down your shade and sneeze, Rachel Lynde
will ask you the next day how your cold is. Mayberry, and
our gravel road in particular, is a tich like that...no,
it is very like that.

The wildflowers are all purple and yellow and white. There
are purple coneflower, and there are these purple spiky things,
and there are purple flowers that resemble Queen Anne's Lace.
I'd like to make a bouquet out of the three colors of wildflowers.
It would be lovely and, I think, quite artistically pure.

UP and Down the Gravel

It's been exciting here on the gravel this week.
We were in the midst of whirlwind preparations for
getting our family off to Mexico when a bit of a
glitch arose. Joel got bit by a copperhead. That's
what comes of a family of boys who all like snakes.
(Princess Hattie likes them too.) But I still get
to brag that my little people (all quite a bit taller
than me, except for Hattie-and she will pass me up
within 2 years) have never had a broken bone nor a
single cavity!

Joel had to spend Wednesday-Saturday in the hospital
and so we had to make some quick decisions on the Mexico
trip. We were able to move one ticket to a later date,
so Kent and Hattie flew down on Friday, as planned, and
Billy and Tyler flew down on Saturday. I will go later in
the week if everything stays well with Joel. He is, so far,
doing very well. We just need to watch and make sure that
his hand doesn't swell again. I tried to talk him into
letting me get a picture of his hand and arm. They were
amazingly huge. He said he'd rather not, so you do not
get to see what a copperhead bit arm and hand look like,
at least not today.

Friday night, as we were in ICU, I looked out the door and
my first cousin, once removed, was standing outside the
room next to us. They had just put her brother, Johnny
(better known as Blue) in the room next to us. They, my
cousins, are also Joel's nearest neighbors. Their property
backs up to ours. Neighbors on the gravel and neighbors in
the hospital. Small world. And then the room next to theirs
was also filled over the few days we were there by two families
from Mayberry that we know. I think that they were trying to
keep all the Mayberrians in one small section, maybe so we
wouldn't contaminate the Big Town folks. This particular
hospital is about a 45 minute drive from our house. There is
a very small hospital in Mayberry, but they send anything of
any consequence on to other places.

Last night I visited G'ma Opal. She sent me home with a jar of
her most delicious hot pickles. I can't wait to eat some. She
said, on an unrelated subject, "I don't have feet, the first 18
inches of my leg are just turned down."

Uncle Jim found an old hand plow in the barn (which is STILL
standing) and has been derusting, painting and fixing it up
beautifully. I'll get a picture of it when it is finished. He
is waiting for some handles he ordered that are steam bent.
That is how the original handles were made.

So, to sum up. We had an exciting week. God is in control and
we trust Him for all He puts in our lives. Live-blogging from
Mexico will have to wait a few days.

Down the Gravel and Beyond

A last Mayberry update before I head down to Mexico
with several of my family and church members. We are
going down to Cuernavaca to work on a church building
project at Torre Fuerte church. Last year we poured a
concrete floor and helped with VBS. We also worked on
the Mission Retreat center, Chula Vista, that we were
staying in.

This year will be much the same. The ladies will
concentrate on VBS and the men will be working with concrete.
They are adding some Sunday School rooms to the church
and the guys will be working on the walls and roof. I
am going to try and update on the Mission Trip as we go.
I'll have a new title...Laurie the Live-blogger.

But back to Mayberry...G'ma Opal and Uncle Jim came over
Monday for lunch. We also had my folks and a few of Hattie's
girlfriends. She, Hattie, was having a combo birthday
party. 'Twas fun. The Princess turned 10; Kent BBQed his
famous chicken; I had ribs in the crockpot and G'ma Opal
brought fried squash and cantaloupe. Of course there were
other side dishes and the cake and ice cream.

G'ma said, "I can't remember anything anymore."

Kent replied, "At least you remember that you can't remember."

Then G'ma smirked and said, "I always heard you couldn't lose
your mind unless you had a good one." She also bragged on my
cooking and said, "I've not had a meal that good in a while."

High praise indeed from the daughter of Hattie Simon.

We take turns going to the nursing/boarding homes in Mayberry
on Sundays. (The churches in town take turns.) We usually are
assigned to one of the three facilities about once a month.
This month we go twice. Hattie said, "It's a Blue Nursing Home
Month." See, she listens Pa and Jim to your talk. She has
Blue Moon down pat and can even expand on the idea.

We've been ballgaming for the last two nights. It seems that
all of Mayberry shows up at the park. Smile and wave...wave and
smile. Chitchat. Feel connected. Find out the latest gossip.
Realize that Hattie has reached the stage in her ball career
where a snowcone after the game does not quite make up for a big
loss. I cherish that as a step in maturity. It does not hurt
her to deal with disappointment. God in His mercy sends the hard
as well as the easy. He knows we need growing up and He is the
one who will accomplish it in our lives.

Oh, one last note. We have guppies. We have lots of guppies.
Kent, bless him, takes the job of disposing of extra guppies
once or twice a week. (They multiply really fast.) Before
leaving for Mexico we wanted to depopulate the tank so they'd
have more breathing room. Catching them in a net is hard.
So, in our brilliance, we put a towel in the tank and were
waiting for lots of them to be above the towel and then we
were going to scoop up a load all at once. We left the
towel in overnight, and unfortunately, we eliminated a few
more fish than we expected. The leftover soapsuds in the
towel from when it last went through the washer and dryer
have poisoned our guppies. There are still loads of them,
but they seem to be dropping off one by one. Stand by
for a guppy update at a later time.

Well! Ever since I mentioned that I no longer was
getting googled for "Tizzy Perm" I have moved to the
top of the google list for that term. I should've
known better that to say those two words out loud.

I stepped out the door into the sultry July night
and I stepped into a sea of homesickness. I became
homesick for the very thing I was experiencing. I
was so homesick it hurt.

A cool wind was blowing away the heat of the day.
Venus glowed brightly just above the western horizon.
The waning moon was not yet risen. The bullfrogs were
in full orchestra, and crickets chirped along with
them but at a higher pitch. Dogs were barking in
the distance.

Fernnook Farm, my own little corner of Mayberry, is
marvelous in July. I missed it last week when I was
at the Lake; I'll miss it next week when I am in
Cuernavaca. It will burn like a flame in my mind
while I am gone and will welcome me with open arms
when I return.

I meant to give an update on all things Mayberrien, but
right now, though I am in the midst of them, I am missing
them too much. So I will wallow in my melancholy and
give the update when the mood swings back up.

A beautiful treatise on the joys of large families by
Rabbi Shmuley Boteach is found on WorldNetDaily.

Following is one thought provoking quote, but I urge
you to read the article in its entirety.

"Let's not finesse the response. We all know why.
A world that has lost its innocence has trouble
appreciating beings who are innocent. A world that
has become selfish has soured to the idea of leading
a life of selflessness. A world that has become grossly
materialistic is turned off to the idea of more dependents
who consume resources. And a world that mistakenly
believes that freedom means a lack of responsibility is
opposed to the idea of needy creatures who 'tie you down.'"

Tip of the bonnet to Amy at Amy's Humble Musings

I've set myself a course in church history for the
next several months. First in line is a book I am
working my way through at present. The Spreading
Flame by F.F. Bruce begins at the beginning and will
take me through to the conversion of the English.

Today I found this piece of meat to chew on.
"That God incarnate should enter life by a unique way
...is not improbable, but perfectly fitting. That
God incarnate should live a life of perfect holiness,
marked by works of miraculous power and teaching of
pre-eminent wisdom, is not improbable, but just what
we should expect. That God incarnate should die--
there is something in the highest degree amazing.
Die He did, none the less; but this could not be the
end. When we have seen this act in the drama of our
salvation, we wait breathlessly for the sequel, and
greet it as something divinely natural: this is the
one 'whom God raised up, loosing the bonds of death,
because it was not possible that death should hold
Him fast.'"

Sunday Thoughts

I Peter 2:9
But you are a chosen generation,
a royal priesthood,
a holy nation,
His own special people,
that you may proclaim the praise of Him
who called you out of darkness
into His marvelous light,

In case you are wondering about what's going on in
Mayberry, you have a partner in your wonderings.
I am slightly out of touch. I have been busy taking
pictures of my family and in-laws at the lake.

Doesn't it look like we had fun?


































































































But best of all was returning home to my own little house
and the frogs ferociously loud croaking.

I thank God for recreation and I thank Him more for the
work He sets before us. Work in the home, the family,
the church and the world.

Kent, coming home from Mayberry a few days ago,
glanced into the field and stopped the car.
"What is that out in the field?"

Something was bobbing away and it wasn't the
head of a goat or a cow.

His eyesight is far better than mine and after
a few seconds he announced, "It's a balloon."

So, after pulling up to the house, I asked Hattie
to go and retrieve it from the field. Here's what
she brought home.











































It is only fitting, since I am reading an article in
the February 2007 Smithsonian about America's first and
most successful celebrity poet, that I should copy here
a poem of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in celebration of
the 4th.

It is taken from a longer poem titled "The Building of
the Ship."

The Ship of State

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hope of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge, and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
'Tis of the wave and not the rock;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee--are all with thee!

Both Biblical Womanhood and Life in a Shoe are having
a contest to win the same set of books. They are the
Ballantyne Christian Adventure Library and are sold
by Vision Forum. They are written by Robert Michael
Ballantyne who was a Christian and a Scottish Covenanter.

If you are interested in entering the contest visit
Biblical Womanhood and Life in a Shoe for the details.

Uncle Jim has been cleaning out G'ma Opal's barn to
ready it for pulling down as it is old and quite
rickety. Recently he found a suitcase in it with
old papers and pictures. What a treasure.

The following letter was in it. It is from my great-
grandfather to my great-grandmother. He wrote it
several months before they married. His first wife
had died in childbirth with siamese twins. He was
in Doniphan (aka Mayberry) and writing to Hattie in
Fern Nook which was 12 or so miles away. And yes,
Princess Hattie is named after her great-grandmother,
as well as G'ma Opal whose real given name is Hattie.
Great-grandfather John was born in 1854. He married
late in life and then had five children. G'ma Opal
was the youngest of the five. So, amazingly, I am only
three generations removed from the Civil War.

June the 16 1901
Doniphan Mo
Ripley Co

Miss Hattie Chappel
My own little darling Hattie
I would have writen before now but was expecting to come up
Though just when I was thinking of coming I took worse and
I could not come
Though the time seemed long and dreary yet my love for you
is the same
It looks rather dark for us now but after the darkest clouds
comes the britest day
I am geting better and think it will permnant this time
Hattie I hope you are injoying your self better than I am
Let me express my simpathy to you in behalf of your ma
I can't write if you see any thing in this worth answering dont
do like I have but write the first chance
Very respectfully
Yours
J.J. Simon

Rivering...company...more company...heading to the Lake
for the 4th...preparing for a missions trip to Mexico in
less than 2 weeks...do I need any more excuses?

For some time now I have been collecting the google
phrases used by people who randomly come across this
blog. For the longest time I had lots of hits from
the words "Tizzy Perm". I guess I finally became lost
somewhere in the google lists on that one. But, here
is the more recent list of terms used by people who
find this most fascinating of reading spots.


Arkansas Gang Traily-I just regoogled it and I am still
at the top on this one. I still have no idea what an
Arkansas Gang Traily is, but it sounds fun and I'd
like to find it. Perhaps it means that Arkansas has
gone to the trails. Or perhaps it has something to do
with Arkansas Chain Gangs? Any ideas?

Dirty Scud-So, who has been investigating my housecleaning
lately? Or, perhaps they are mad at me and calling me a
name.

Ambassador to the Penguins-This one is easy; I did a book
review on it.

Where the fireflies go-One does wonder such things.

Highschool Terra Story-Sounds like a newspaper article,
but not one I've ever seen in the Mayberry Times.

You can’t judge a book by its cover-Okay, I use too many
trite phrases. Slap on the hand for me.

Black Snakes in Missouri-This is easy. My kids bring
snakes in the house from time to time and I like to
talk about them. The last one they thought was a
baby copperhead, and Joel stood holding it while we
googled "baby copperhead" to see if it was or not.
Our learned verdict was that it was not.

Six simple strategies for achieving misery-Whoa. If you
are a regular here you might consider quitting right
now. I should have a disclaimer-Reading this blog
may lead to a miserable life.

Audio pilgrim’s progress-I mentioned Pilgrim's Progress in
a book review. By the way, Hattie just finished reading
the children's version of Pilgrim's Progress. She liked
it a lot.

Carolyn Fleetwood Wedding-Well we were at my niece's wedding,
and I did post about it.

I am young and my hands and feet are wrinkled-I hope this
person found some help for their problem.

Kent’s shirts-If anyone is offering to iron them for me, go
right ahead!

Ozarkbob-Hello, Dad!

Christopher robin is saying his prayers-Wonderful poem and one
of my all time favorites.

Softball catcher, sore thighs, what to do-This is the place
to come for medical advice of the most interesting sort.

Laurie Mayberry-Not my name, but could be my alias.

Wierds-Now I am hurt!

Fireflies and Peonies-Well, life is lovely and I like to write
about it.

Unfair coaches-We've all had our share.

Limberlock-What a fascinating word. It just oozes with deep
darkness and mystery.

Phrase such as “I am no expert but…”-I really, really must cut
the trite sayings out. Ouch!

Snake-Touche.

Aint it a shame hymn-This is the classic of classic bad hymns and
I truly pity the person who wrote it.

One flew east one flew west + poem + clock-Some good G'ma Opal
sagacity here.

Artichoke Farm-Don't live on one, but wish I did.

Don’t judge a book by its cover-Blah, blah, blah.

Working farmgirl pictures-I doubt they found any here. I am
the one who takes the pictures.

How many times does a hummingbird wings flutter in a second-We
have enjoyed our hummers this year. But this morning
we are totally out of sugar and they are hungry. Gotta
head to Mayberry.

Gollywhompers-Not yet. They come in August.

Definition pooch nane-How am I supposed to know the definition
of pooch nane?

Homemade playhouse-Easy one here. Hattie has a lovely playhouse.

Never Ending Garden Project-G'ma Opal's department. By the way,
I have started getting Zucchini from her. Yum!

I've been contemplating the verses from Ecclesiates
that I posted yesterday. Especially I have been
thinking of 12:1a:

Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth,
Before the difficult days come,...

There is a laxness in our approach to training our
children in the ways of the Lord that we would never
allow in other areas of training.

We are very deliberate in potty training our little ones
and teaching them to wash their hands. We do not leave
bike riding, swimming, or hunting up to chance. These
activities are broken into steps and carefully we go
through each one.

Schooling, whether it is home, government, or private is
very deliberate. There are goals; there is an agenda;
there is method. But spiritual training is often very
haphazard. We breathe a sigh of relief if our kids "go
forward" or "make a profession" and then, often, we are
unsure of what else to do and so leave it at that. Of
course, if they have questions we try to answer them.
But we don't know how to do as Deuteronomy 6:6&7 tell us
to do:

And these words which I command you today shall be in
your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your
children....

I don't just want my kids to be able to look back at
some point in time when they accepted Christ into their
hearts and count on that to be everything for them. I
want to see today the fruit of that decision. I want
to see tomorrow and next week and next year that the
way in which they walk is a result of their change of
heart when they were young. I don't want all their
learning to be merely a result of having their questions
answered. They are but children. What is to make them
ask the right questions?

That is one reason that I so highly recommend catechism
study along with regular family devotions. These are
deliberate. They don't leave learning to chance. They
help the child to gain a full picture perspective.

My book of choice for this is Teaching Hearts: Training
Minds by Starr Meade. This book takes the Westminster
Confession and after each question and answer gives six
days of devotions to bring about greater understanding.
I have seen my children grow in the depth and width of
their knowledge of God and His ways.

Life is but a preparation for eternity for the believer.
We have taught our children everything from their abcs to
calculus and physics. How can I neglect, or leave only to
others this most important area of all.

When the difficult days come to them, as they will, I want
their knowledge and experience of God's faithfulness and
glory to be the scaffolding upon which they stand. May
they be able to say, along with Job, "Though He slay me,
yet will I trust Him." (13:15)

I spent the weekend in The Big City with a group
of ladies from the church. We ate and shopped and
talked late at night, but the highlight of the trip
was a visit to The Muny to see Oklahoma. 'Twas a
grand time.

But grander still was a night on the town in Mayberry
last night. We went to a BBQ for a local candidate
and then to Billy, Tyler and Kent's softball game.
Instead of being lost in a sea of anonymity as we
were in The Big City we were surrounded by people
we know. And we don't just know them, we know how
they fit into the fabric of Mayberry, we know who they
are connected to, and we know our own place in the
scheme of things.

And grandest of all was stepping out of the car last
night after arriving home from the night on the town
in Mayberry. It is very dark at our place, there are
no street lights. The humid heat of the night enveloped
me. The waxing moon is never the cold, proud lady that
the waning moon is. She is friendly and helpful to
the late night traveler. We were surrounded by a
cacophony of frogs. Lighter and shriller are the ones
in the small pond by the house and deep and terrifying
loud the ones in the big pond at the back of the field.

Ecclesiates 12:1
Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth,
Before the difficult days come,
And the years draw near when you say,
"I have no pleasure in them":
While the sun and the light,
The moon and the stars,
Are not darkened,
And the clouds do not return after the rain;

Why is it that every time Hattie comes to me with her
apron on to cook something on her own and hands me a
list of needed ingredients to check whether or not we
have them on hand the list reads like this:

flour
cocoa
butter
oil
milk
sugar

and not like this:

broccoli
chicken
onion
mushrooms
asparagus
cheese

I want to know? And why did I not mind? Maybe
because the result was so very delishioso.

Grandaunt Lucille died yesterday. She was married to
my G'ma Opal's next older brother John. He died several
years ago. Lucille was not only my grandaunt, she was
also my neighbor. Her property backs up to ours.

Lucille taught me how to clean a chicken. That is a nasty
job and it only took me one time to decide not to repeat
it. I used to get my dill from her to make hot pickles.
She was a great gardener. She will be missed at the graveyard
dinner in August.

My funniest story though is not about her but about her husband,
John. He had big ears. They were huge and flappy. His last
name was Simon (which of course is G'ma Opal's maiden name.)
One day, when I was a rather young girl and visiting from The
Big City, I went up to the corner store. When I walked in
someone said to me, "You must be a Simon." I immediately
put my hands over my ears to see if they had changed on me
overnight without my noticing it. I couldn't imagine why
else anyone would think I was a Simon. It had to be the ears.
But, no, they were the same as ever. Guess I just had a Simon
air about me.

Up and Down the Gravel

1. It WAS a raccoon that was stealing the nectar. We
caught it and released it far, far away. Well, okay,
we let it go down at Greenville Ford, where it immediately
jumped in the creek and swam across, probably on its way
back to our nectar.

2. Last night Hattie and I went to visit G'ma Opal. It
was raining a little when we got there and we walked in,
but G'ma was not in the house. I looked out the window
and she was standing in the garden, in the rain, just
enjoying watching things grow. She called us out there
and gave us a tour of every plant. She reminded me that
I would not melt and so not to fuss over getting a little
wet.

I asked her how the mice were faring and she said that she
only got one the night before. It was quite not dead when
she found it in the morning, so she just gloatingly watched
it till Uncle Jim came to finish it off.

We played Rummy, and Polish Poker and she lost at both, but
she still let me take home two cukes and a green pepper from
the garden.

She is also in the midst of a dozen projects; she is re-webbing
some lawn chairs, going through all the stuff that was in
her shed and disposing of it, trying to figure out a way to
create a bird bath with an old table she had in the shed, and
of course she has her never ending garden project.

3. The triplets (goats) are looking good.

4. The cows are fat and happy.

5. The grandpuppy chews on everything.

6. Hattie had me cut her hair and she looks so much more
mature now. Whether that is good or bad I will not even
attempt to answer.

7. The hummingbirds are flitting like mad. They have
reduced in number from 50 or so to around 25, but we
still have to fill all three feeders at least once a day.

8. The guppies WILL reproduce and so Kent DOES have to
thin them out weekly.

9. My mother got a great report from her cancer doctor and
goes in 3 months for a checkup.

It was ironic that within a day or two of finishing
the book Dining with the Devil: The Megachurch
Movement Flirts with Modernity by Os Guinness I should
pick up the March 2007 copy of Nation Geographic and
read the article "The Theme-Parking, Megachurching,
Franchising, Exurbing, McMansioning of America: How
Walt Disney Changed Everything" by T.D. Allman.

Two excerpts from the magazine article are especially
disturbing. In speaking of the largest megachurch in
Orlando, Fl, the now retired pastor, Jim Henry, who led
First Baptist to its megachurch position said that, "His
church's physical transformation has been accompanied by
a philosophical change. 'We are not here to dictate our
faith,'...."

The section of the article dealing with the megachurch
in Orlando reads, "'You begin with faith,' Henry says,
and in his case at least, you end up as an expert in
traffic management."

This telling commentary by Guinness brings perspective.
He is discussing the difference between secularism and
secularization. "Being openly hostile, secularism rarely
deceives Christians. Being much more subtle, secularization
often deceives Christians before they are aware of it,
including those in the church-growth movement. How else
can one explain the comment of a Japanese businessman
to a visiting Australian? 'Whenever I meet a Buddhist
leader, I meet a holy man. Whenever I meet a Christian
leader, I meet a manager.'"

"The two most easily recognizable hallmarks of secularization
in America are the exaltation of numbers and of technique.
Both are prominent in the megachurch movement at a popular
level. In its fascination with statistics and data at the
expense of truth, this movement is characteristically modern."

We find ourselves in the midst of not one but two
mysteries here on Fernnook Farm.

1. First, how does the bull keep getting into the
field with the cows? We know WHY he is doing it,
but the HOW has us baffled. There are no holes in
the fence, and there are no places where the fence
is bent low enough for the bull to jump it. Guess
we'll have to do some spying on the amorous old
fella.

2. What creature nightly climbs the Poplar tree,
knocks the hummingbird feeder to the ground, pulls
out the yellow flowers that cover the holes, and
drinks all the nectar?

My guess is a coon, but I'd love it to be a bear.
One of my unfulfilled lifelong dreams is to see a
bear in my yard or ambling along the tree line in the
back field. Whatever it is, we're going to set a
live trap out so we can nab it in the act!

I've not officially confirmed it, but rumor has it that
G'ma Opal is killing two mice a day in her house now that
she is cleaning out her shed and destroying the mice nests
that were there.

I think she is having more fun than any 96 year old should.

Just an absolutely fascinating look at what the
world eats. I especially love the picture of the
family from Cuernavaca.

Tip of the bonnet to Amy

Dining With the Devil: The Megachurch Movement Flirts
with Modernity by Os Guinness is the first book I've
read by Guinness. I would like to read a more recent
book by him.

Dining With the Devil was published in 1993. That is
not so long ago. It is an interesting commentary on
the way we view the world's progress that 14 years would
seem almost an eternity in terms of change and modernization.

14 years ago we had only been in Mayberry for 1-2 years. We
moved to a small country church and away from one that was
not yet a megachurch, but which was well on the way. It has
now arrived. Almost every time I go to The Big City I pass
the main campus of the church we attended up there.

It is difficult to squash into a few words the ideas that
Dining With the Devil puts forth. I underlined and astericized
so much of it that I may as well just reproduce the whole
thing. Since I can't do that, I'll try to give the main
thrust.

Guinness says that the managing, marketing, psychology and
means of communication that are used by the modern church,
especially the modern megachurch, can be useful, but that it
is definitely a case of buyer beware. It is quite possible
that the world will be won to the church, and that in the
meantime the soul of the church will be lost.

His main position is that faith is losing authority in
both the life of the church and the individual believer.
On page 18 he states the crux of the matter. "What
people believe no longer makes much difference to how
they behave."

His development of this idea, beginning with mourning the
loss of the importance of the written word in society and
moving through to questions that should be asked if we,
as Christians, are to be truly discerning, is the meat of
the book.

Guinness does not write for the casual reader. It takes
work to read a book like this, but it is definitely worth
the brain energy put forth. Following is one of the many
paragraphs that I underlined in this book. (P.27)

"...The second common deficiency is that the church-
growth movement--true to its American evangelical
parentage--displays a minimal sense of historical
awareness....Two periods, for example, would give
fruitful parallels: the late eighteenth century
and the story of European liberalism's engagement
with the 'cultured despisers,' and the early
nineteenth century and the story of American
evangelicalism's fateful seachange during the
era of Jacksonian populism. This early nineteenth-
century change is a particularly important precedent
because it was not so much from Calvinism to
Arminianism as from theology to experience, from
truth to technique, from elites to populism, and
from an emphasis on 'serving God' to an emphasis on
'servicing the self' in serving God."

We made a flying trip to the Big City this past weekend.
We had a wedding to attend and then, since there were
several from Mayberry there, we decided to make a day of
Saturday by going to the zoo.

Sister Becky, a Forest Park Junkie, just devised a
scavenger hunt at the zoo to use during her daughter's
16th birthday party. I borrowed it and we divided up into
teams and went for it. My team did not win, but we did
have fun.





























I have to admit though, time spent in the Big City always
seems so frenzied. Perhaps it is because we try to fit in
too many things while we are there. Couple that with the
huge numbers of cars and people and it isn't long before this
country girl begins to feel overwhelmed.

It was with a huge sigh of contentment that I exited my car
under my own sagging carport and was hit full force with the
croaking of the frogs and the singing of the crickets and
the deep darkness nighttime that is unrelieved by street lamps.

O Lord,
May I...
never make piety a dress but a habit,
not only a habit but a nature,
not only a nature but a life.

Many things come to mind when I think of G'ma Opal.
Tomatoes, fishing, playing cards, and quilts all
define a sliver of her life. One other picture that
I see when I think of her is the old barn that is
near her house. It has been there as long as I can
remember, probably because it is older than I am.

I was talking with my cousin Kenny (from Florida) the
other day. I remember the old barn as a fun place to
play as a child. It seemed huge to my little girl eyes.
He remembers it being SO far from G'ma's house. In reality
it is really not at all that large and is but a short
distance from the house.

The barn is slated to come down soon. Uncle Jim is
concerned because of its great ricketyness. He has been
busily cleaning out everything from the inside in order
to ready it for the BIG DAY. It actually would have come
down a day or two ago except the weather has not been
cooperating.

The barn is a reminder of the frailities of life. May it
not be said of us, as of the one spoken of in Eccleiastes 5:16
"...And what profit has he who has labored for the wind?"
There is the eternal and it can be labored for even today.

There is nothing so Mayberryish as spending a night
at the ballpark. Half the county seems to be there
on any given game night.

Of course, there's the fun of seeing the Princess smack
the ball and get a triple (albeit two of the bases were
on overthrows-it is a never ending battle to get those
little people to throw the ball to the pitcher so play
can be halted rather than throwing to a base and giving
the runner ANOTHER chance to advance), but there is also
the fun of knowing players and parents on both sides,
knowing all the umpires personally, and chatting with
the crowd in general.

There is the warm-fuzzy feeling that is inside when you
say to one of the umpires (one who happens to attend the
same church as you do) that made a call that just happened
to be in your team's favor, "Good call, Blue!"

Here, as promised, are the kids. When we got
out to take the pictures we were a bit surprised
to see that they are not twins, but rather they
are triplets.

Things were busy at Fernnook Farm yesterday.
After a beautiful sunrise, we babysat our new
grandpuppy--Max.





























Twin goats were born, and though I don't have a
picture of them yet, here is the proud papa, Zak.















The hay was baled and sitting in the field. Princess
Hattie takes her rightful place on the top of the load.















Modern day farmboy gets ready to pitch hay.















Just how many grapes can one guy put in his mouth at a
time. Well, how many do you think there are?

We were unexpectedly away overnight this weekend
for a ball tournament. I took Ivanhoe along to
help pass the 5 hours of drive time. What a
rollicking good read it was. I haven't had so
much FUN in reading in a long time.

There are Knights Errant, there is jousting, there
are bad Prince John and good King Richard, there are
damsels in distress (and, as Beth says, "I love the
damsels in distress"), there are kidnappings, there
are braveries and gallantries galore.

I can't believe I let this sit on my bookshelf for 12
years without reading it.

Thanks for the push LeftCoast.

Martin Luther

Unknown source:

The maid who sweeps her kitchen is doing the will of
God just as much as the monk who prays, not because
she may sing a Christian hymn as she sweeps but because
God loves clean floors.

For more wonderful quotes on domesticity visit
Kyriosity.

Tip of the bonnet to Amy at Amy's Humble Musings.

First, I want to assure LeftCoast that Ivanhoe is
now on top of the pile and I will start to read it
today.

Second, I just finished Sense and Sensibility for
the 20-somethingth time. It wears very well. There
is one sentence in it that bothers me though. Every
time I read it this very un-Jane Austiny combination
of words I am irked. It is near the end of the book.
Thomas, the Dashwood's man-servant, is just beginning
to tell them of meeting Lucy (Steele) Ferrars who is
newly married. And now for the sentence itself...

Marianne gave a violent start, fixed her eyes upon
Elinor, saw her turning pale, and fell back in her
chair in hysterics.

Compare that with this combination of sentences which
were randomly picked out of the middle of the book.

Lady Middleton was equally pleased with Mrs. Dashwood.
There was a kind of cold-hearted selfishness on both
sides, which mutually attracted them; and they
sympathised with each other in an insipid propriety
of demeanor, and a general want of understanding.

The above is what makes me read Austin time after time.
She wears very, very well.

The cousins (and their friends) were busy this weekend.
They filled their hours with crawdadding, Annie Ocard games, whiffle ball, rivering, and lots of eating.














Crawdad catch before eating time.














Two games of High Five at the river.

Meanwhile the adults were also eating and playing cards.
Kent could do no wrong. In High Five every play he made
was a ringer.

At the fish fry on Saturday night Kent and Becky (my sis)
were playing Mom and G'ma Opal. You have got to remember
there are no people on this earth who are more competitive
at cards than Mom and G'ma Opal. But, they were playing
against Kent and he was mopping them up. The first game
they (Mom and G'ma) never got out of the hole. The second
game they finally climbed past zero, but just barely. They
were sunk to terrible depths. Mom even began to sing the
song, "I'm Looking Over a Four Leafed Clover" to try and
give G'ma a hint when she (G'ma) had won the bid and needed to
choose her suit. Table talk. But at that point no one
cared. It was desperate. The girls lost again.

Two days later Becky was down chatting with G'ma Opal. This
is not word for word, but is a pretty close approximation
to the conversation.

G'ma Opal, "Well, my ear hurts today."
Becky, "Oh, I'm sorry!"
G'ma, "It hurts because I got a really good sleep last night
and didn't move around enough."
Becky, "(really she didn't say anything, what was there TO
say to that?)"
G'ma, "I slept really good last night because I slept really
badly the night before. I just couldn't get those two
card games off my mind."

Really! A card game keeping you awake at 96.

Go G'ma!

Mayberry Happenings:

Yesterday was town day. I thought about holding
a contest to see if anyone could guess the four
types of animals that crossed the road in front
of my car during my 11 mile (one way) drive to and
from town, but I couldn't think of a good prize
to offer. So, I'll just up and tell you.

1. A snake (he was slithering fast, but I think it
was a green snake.)
2. A turtle (he pulled his head in when I whizzed
past.)
3. A deer (she jumped up and ran across Highway 160
just a few feet in front of me.)
4. A squirrel (this little fellow acted the part of
all squirrels--unable to make up his mind which
way to run 'til the last moment...lucky for me
and him he chose the opposite way I did.)

Then last night, my boys and their friend Jenn came
across two young red fox pups eating a duck in the middle
of the gravel road. They stopped and took pictures.
The pups mostly just ignored them. Look at these incredible
pictures.





























There was nothing really funny in this week's
edition of The Mayberry Times. There were though,
as usual, some strange sentences/paragraphs.

From the Speak Out section:
Revenge. Revenge is sweet until you yourself beg
for mercy and there is none. Think about it while
there's still time.
(I think that would be a great start to a mystery
novel. The heroine finds a note, tattered and torn,
with the above words on it. She feels great
wonderment and some fear. She experiences a delicious
shiver of excitement and then embarks upon the
adventure of her life in discovering the whys and
wherefores of said note.)

And in a different section of Speak Out:
Today's Sodom and Gomorrah ways is taking us under.
(Under what? I won't speak to the grammar of this
sentence.)

Further Lesson From Hummingbirds

Last night we were out playing ball in the yard.
The guys and Hattie are trying to get Mom up to
snuff before the start of softball season. It is
a daunting responsibility and nighwell impossible.

But, I divert myself, so back to the subject at
hand. As we were playing the buzz from the humming-
birds was enormous. There are so many and they are
so busy.

Sometimes there will be a single bird at a feeder. Soon
a second bird will appear. First bird leaves his food
spout and begins to spar with second bird. There are
three empty spots so why does he feel compelled to
fight with second bird when there is plenty to go around?
He drives off second bird and then settles in to alternately
sipping and checking for rivals.

If he would only concentrate on his own little corner of the
world what trouble he could avoid. He could build up his
store of fat more quickly. He could rest from time to time
instead of living his life in a complete frenzy. I wonder,
how many times I am more concerned about what my neighbor is
getting or doing or experiencing than I am about what I
should be doing. As long as I am watching, dissecting and
criticizing the lives of others I can avoid doing so to my
own life.

It reminds me of a story about a speck and a plank that
Jesus related to his disciples one day when they were up
on a mountain.

There is a time and a place for confrontation, disagreement,
discussion and judgment, and there is a time and a place to
mind one's own business and tend to one's own duties.

"It's the sovereignty of God that brings us peace;
it's the chance of things that would unravel us."

Quote of the day from Kent

I was watching our hummingbirds yesterday as they
swooped from feeder to feeder and fought between
themselves and I realized that they only live to
eat. They show some interesting behavior, though,
in living out this dictum.

When at any moment in time a hummingbird is only hours
away from starvation, why do they leave one perfectly
good feeder to flit away across the yard to another?
Their little wings have to beat 70 or so times per
second and use up tremendous amounts of the energy
they are seeking just to fly so far. They are naturally
discontent.

I have been ruminating on the idea of contentment lately.
It is hard to "Be still and know that I am God" when
we are discontent. Somewhere in the finding of that
wonderful state of mind and of lifestyle we have to be
slow and still and quiet and contemplative.

That is hard. Where in the midst of ball schedules,
company, keeping the home, and church schedules is there
space for that peace?

We can try to simplify our family life more than it is, but
even that takes tremendous amounts of energy and time.

Yet, there can be contentment even in the midst of the
busyness of daily living. The two are not mutually exclusive.
It is not the busyness, but it is the sense of hurriedness,
of never being satisfied, and of always seeking for something
better that is to be avoided.

It is not a deserted island that is filled with quiet that
I need. (Though in my sometimes dreams, a deserted island
with a huge amount of books and crossword puzzles seems almost
like my idea of heaven, of course there would be a coffee pot
there somewhere as well.) What is needed is to know that the
work at hand is good and that there is no need to flit and
flutter about in a nervous fashion. Do what needs to be done,
move on to the next job and then when there is a chance to
sit and rest, well, sit and rest. Be content with that.

And meanwhile, don't forget to fill the feeders or those poor
little hummingbirds will be flitting and flying and fighting
for nothing.

E-mom asked how our BIG BBQ was. It was fabulous.
We had fairytale weather. I cannot remember having
such a perfect day for one of our big bashes in the
past 15 years that we have been doing this. The
temperature was in the low eighties and the humidity
was about zilch,yet it was plenty warm enough for the
children to swim in the two pools we had set up.
They are really big cattle troughs. One we fill just
a little for the baby and toddler crowd and the other
we fill to the brim for the bigger children.

Really we have a perfect set-up for such an event.
We have a swing set, a playhouse, a trampoline, a
basketball net, the pools, and plenty of room for
volleyball, horseshoes and a game like ultimate
frisbee to be conducted simultaneously. There is
also shade for the older folks who want to sit and
chat.

Monday morning I was making a list of people who
were there and I counted 101. I may have missed
a few, but I think I pretty well got everyone.

Actually the big hit of the day were the hummingbirds.
They were zooming and zipping between the three feeders
we have spread around. I am sure there were 45 or
50 of them, though they never will be still enough
for me to count. I think they liked all the activity
because they weren't a whit shy about feeding or fighting.
We were joking about how they might act if we were to
fill one of the feeders with Mountain Dew instead of
the traditional sugar water. I think they might just
explode. It would not be a pretty sight.

25 years is a good amount of time. It means that
I have been married for longer than I was single.
Kent and his personality have become essential to
my very essence.

Neither one of us are big on huge shows of sentimentality
just because the calendar dictates it. I cannot tell you
when the last time was that we exchanged Valentine gifts.
It is in the dailyness of living that we love and honor
one another.

I was going to write a list of 25 things that I love about
that man, but it seemed so maudlin. I will share some things,
though, that are dear to me.

For example, Kent thinks I am funny. He appreciates my
sense of humor. Many people just don't get the connections
that seem so clear to me. I like to be laughed at when I
WANT to be laughed at.

He likes to sleep with the window open, and since our bed
butts up next to the window and we have no head board the
window is our headboard. The outside air and the noises
of the night are food for my being. I am so glad he feels
the same.

I would give up flowers and gifts forever to keep our early
morning times together. I cuddle in my spot, which he lets
me have, even though it is his favorite morning spot also.
He sits across the room or along the loveseat and we each
pursue our own time of reading and meditating on God's Word.

I love the fact that almost every day I can count on at least
one good discussion, before breakfast mind you, about theology
in all its glory and finer points.

I am so glad that we travel well together. We don't like
planning too much ahead. We want to stop when we feel like
stopping. And we both like to stop a lot, that is a huge
relief. I never feel guilty for needing to polish my nose.

I love the way he worries an idea like a bone until it fits
into a structured part of a whole. He won't stand for
inconsistency or inaccuracy. Sometimes I want to scream
with frustration because I am much more about sweeping the
dirt under the rug and saying, "Good enough for government
work." But he calls me to become more that I want to be
in my thinking and in my living.

As a father he is fabulous. His sons are strong and courageous.
His daughter is a princess. And they do not have to rely upon
me for their spiritual teaching. I take every chance I have
to teach them and pray with them. Just this morning, since
I get up with Ty to get him out the door by 5:30 for work I
studied with him from question number 28 of the Shorter
Catechism and we prayed together. But, I can count on Kent
to lead the family in devotions and prayer, to answer hard
questions and to give advice. What an example he sets for his
sons.

His eyes are blue and his soul is purple.

Fernando Ortega sings of his wife Margee Ann in a beautiful
song; the chorus of that song has in summary form how I
feel about Kent.

"You're the first light of the morning, my cool sunrise.
You're my love across the table, a little sleep in your eyes.
You're my strong cup of coffee, you like to laugh right with me.
You're my heart's companion, my one true companion,
Sweet darling, lover of mine."

News From Up and Down the Gravel

My mother's last chemo treatment was this week.
We are grateful for how well she is responding.
I know she is looking forward to a summer free
from all the back and forthness of going to The
Big City for her treatments. Sometime this summer
her cancer doctor is supposed to come for a visit.
That should be a hoot.

I was at G'ma Opal's yesterday. She was filling
me in from her own visit to The Big City. And
in the midst of that she told me two interesting
tidbits. A)A mosquito won't bite you if you are
holding your breath. Next time I notice one coming
my way I'll just hold my breath and hope it flies
away before I turn purple! B)The first word she
ever learned to spell was "pepper". Her dad taught
her when she was a wee bit o' a thing. He said,
"Pepper is half 'P's." She learned to spell it,
but she never could understand where the peas were
in pepper.

We have a momma goat that is just on the verge of
kidding, and we have a few that need to go to the
sale barn on Monday night.

Tomorrow we are having a big Bar-B-Que here at our
house. Once a year we invite the church-folks over
to eat and play volleyball, swim, throw baskets,
jump on the trampoline etc. We've also invited some
relatives, neighbors and friends, because when you're
going to have 80 or so what's another 10 or 20?

Hattie came into the room where I was working the
other day. She had something hidden behind her back.
She said, "Mom, you know I've had a frustrating day,
but if you will just let me keep this, all my little
frustrations will be better. It will be a good day."
"What IS it?" I wisely inquired. See for yourself.
We kept it overnight in a bucket on the porch and
then let it go.

As I was fixing breakfast for Billy, a scrambled egg
and half of a bagel for those who are curious, I glanced
at Kent who was sitting in his chair reading from The
Bondage of the Will by Martin Luther. He was smirking.
My curiosity was aroused.

Like the fool that I am I asked, "What's so funny?"

His reply, "Augustine says, 'What chatters more than
an empty head?'"

Immediate and loud laughter erupted from two quarters.

I take it as a mark of personal growth that I did not
immediately think Kent was referring to me.

Five minutes later there was the smirk again. This time
I refrained from asking. It was of no use though.

Kent, without prompting said, "And Quintilian says, 'There
is none who would not rather appear to know than to learn.'"

He hit a bullseye with that one. If you want a window to
my soul just meditate on that quote a bit. Ouch.

From the Bookshelf:

I just finished reading A Country Year: Living the
Questions by Sue Hubbell. This is a sweet and gentle
book of the agrarian ilk.

Sue lives and keeps bees in the Missouri Ozarks. This
was my first fascination with the book since I live in
the Ozark foothills. She is a mountain girl and I am
a hillbilly.

The books is a diary of sorts comprising one full year
of living with her bees and in the Ozarks. She writes
of the bees and the work they entail. She tells of
the birds and other creatures that share her mountain
home, and she introduces us to her neighboring mountain
folk.

She speaks with understanding and humor of those who
want to make a move to a simpler life. She made the
move some years earlier, but recognizes that country
living is not necessarily simpler. There is time for
observing nature and reflection, however there is much
more time taken up with the mechanics of survival.

I always find it rather sad when a person who is enthralled
with God's creation doesn't recognize the One who gave it
to us as a gift. It leaves the reader with an empty feeling
in the pit of the tummy.

But, the above reflection notwithstanding, Sue is a gifted
writer and her book is a delightful stop on a busy day.

Not only do we have hummingbirds (Did I say we had
15 or so of them? I lied. We have 30 or 40 in a
continual eating frenzy. They are fascinating!
I will try to find some of their nests and post
pictures.) on our porch, but we also have another
of God's creations out there.

A few days ago the boys found a huge black widow
spider and two egg cases and scooped them all into
a jar. They were in my living room until last night
when I had visions of the egg cases hatching and
a gazillion tiny black widows climbing through the
air holes poked in the top of the jar and zipping
around the house.

I'd like to get a picture for you, but while I am
not the type to go bezerk over a spider, the thought
of opening the jar and trying to maneuver the camera
and spider into a good position for a shot is more
than I think I'd like to attempt.

Sometimes life is like a cup of golden sunshine. I
thank God for times like this. The other day someone
said that we only seem to cling to God when times are
difficult. I don't see why that must be so. In fact,
I don't find that to be so.

When circumstances are filled with just the dailyness
of living and the days are slipping past filled with
work and play and study and devotion there is time to
meet with God and comtemplate and well, just love Him.

And so, may I meet Spring and Summer head on. May
each sunshine or storm filled day be another chance to
wash clothes, do paperwork, cook a yummy meal, play
games, read books, and in the midst of all these things,
may each day be a chance to hear the God who Is, Was
and Ever Shall Be speak to me from His Word.

What more can a girl ask from her God-given gift of life?

We have hummingbirds. We have had hummingbirds in the past
but nothing like we have them now. There have been at least
fifteen at one time battling for a spot at the trough. Now
I wish we'd planted sugarcane this year. We can afford to
feed a family of 6, plus the usual drop-ins...but fifteen
or so hummers? The sugar producers will love us.





























G'ma Opal is headed for the Big City today. She's not been
away from home overnight (except a few hospital stays) in
7 or 8 years. She stopped by for a Mother's Day dinner before
taking off. Here she is surrounded by grand and great-grand-
daughters, and if you look carefully you'll see the new
sweat pants she got as a gift peeking out from under her
dress. She just couldn't wait to try them on.

A final thought from Christianity and Liberalism
by J. Gresham Machen.

"Weary with the conflicts of the world, one goes
into the Church to seek refreshment for the soul.
And what does one find? Alas, too often, one finds
only the turmoil of the world. The preacher comes
forward, not out of a secret place of meditation
and power, not with the authority of God's Word
permeating his message, not with human wisdom
pushed far into the background by the glory of
the Cross, but with human opinions about the social
problems of the hour or easy solutions of the
vast problem of sin. Such is the sermon....Thus
the warfare of the world has entered even into the
house of God, and sad indeed is the heart of the
man who has come seeking peace."

However, when the Word is upheld and preached, and
when man's opinions are pushed to the background
and God's truth is sought, then "If there be such
a place, then that is the house of God and that
the gate of heaven. And from under the threshold
of that house will go forth a river that will
revive a weary world."

After the game.

I went digging for treasure Saturday and this is
what I found.

The House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Christy by Catherine Marshall (To replace a lost copy)
Chronicles of Avonlea by L.M. Montgomery (To replace a
soft cover copy)
Joyful Poems for Children by James Whitcomb Riley
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (Because I need to read
more Russian novels)

Not pictured
Strawberry Girl by Lois Lenski
I also dug up several Boxcar Kid, Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden
and various other mystery books for the ever mysterious
Princess Daughter.

Pretty good diggins, but I haven't forgetten my promise to
LeftCoast to read Ivanhoe.