Calf Races

It’s Teen Pact week for Buddy!

While he is at the Iowa State Capitol running for office, passing legislation, playing ultimate Frisbee and hanging out with friends – I’m doing his chores at home.

So of course – a cow gets out.

I spotted it eating grass in the ditch on Tuesday. My first response was to call Buddy – who would have grabbed his boots and coat and calmly taken care of the situation.

But then I remembered that he was gone.

So I called Angel Girl – who thankfully had the day off from work.

“Can we do this ourselves?” I asked.

Angel Girl took one look and said, “It’s just a calf – no problem – I got this.”

“Do you need my help?”

She shrugs, “You can come out if you want to.”

By the time I went to the bathroom (at my age you don’t run anywhere with a full bladder), found shoes and socks and a hoodie, she had calmly walked out and with a few waves of her arms had that calf were he belonged.

Seriously.

In yoga pants, flip flops and a t-shirt.

I was impressed.

Fast forward 24 hours.

I look out the kitchen window and see that same varmint calf in the ditch.

What? I thought the fence was fixed?

Buddy’s gone. Angel Girl’s at work. It’s just me. But if they can do this, honestly, how hard can it be?

I went to the bathroom as a precautionary measure, found shoes and socks and a hoodie and walked calmly down the road just like the kids.

But that calf took one look at me and started running. The opposite direction. Fast.

Seriously? Do I look that scary in the morning? Maybe I should have combed my hair?

We run back and forth along the fence line a few times before he bolted for the yard. Under the clothesline, past the house, and through the garden with me in hot pursuit.

He hooked a right just as we got to the gate, ran back to the yard and we did the whole thing again.

Twice.

As we rounded the corner past the house for the third time I called it quits.

Varmint calf won.

I walked in the house and called my husband.

I can’t tell you what I said, but it worked.

He drove home.

He calmly walked to the ditch where he found the varmint calf resting, obviously exhausted after our race.

Then he waved his hands.

And that varmint calf miraculously found the hole in the fence and jumped back in.

Boom. Just like that.

I give up.

I think I’ll stick to quilting.

A Super Soup Supper

It started with a random comment at a 4H meeting.

The swing set at the park in our small rural community was in sad state and the baby swing was broken.

“We should take it on as a 4H project!” they said.

Great idea! But we’re a very small club. We would need to raise some money.

The easiest fund-raiser for a club of six kids? A soup supper.

 

Excitement built as we set a date, planned a menu and and printed hand-outs.

The kids made posters and the leaders and the moms (all five of us) started baking, cutting veggies, and making soup.

The food started arriving early on the night of the supper.

And so did the community.

Lots of them.

On a raw March evening with the skies threatening snow, we packed the tables in our community hall.

Moms dished the soups, but our 4H kids were a part of everything else – keeping veggie plates filled, plating desserts, pouring drinks, busing tables, washing dishes.

And they were excited! You could see it in their eyes. This was big. Way bigger than we imagined.

Half way through we started adding to the soups to stretch them.

And still they came.

A cross section of community. Retired couples, young families, grandparents with grandchildren.

All there for the kids. For the park. For the future.

Some even brought desserts to add to our offerings.

The tables were never empty and our donation box was filling up.

When the last guest buttoned up and headed out in the cold and those now exhausted kids had helped clean up, we opened up the donation box and counted the money.

Their excitement was infectious as the pile of bills added up!

And up and up.

The total surpassing our expectations by many, many dollars.

This went way way beyond just a new baby swing and some fresh paint!

This could get memorial trees for our two 4H members killed in a car accident last summer!

This could get a handicapped swing!

The ideas were flying as we turned out the lights and headed home.

Exhausted but exhilarated.

Those six kids learned some very valuable lessons that night.

About having an idea and how to make it happen.

About working hard and serving others.

And about community and what can happen when we work together.

It was a pretty super soup supper!

 

Epic Entertainment and Servant Hearts

The last few weeks have been crazy busy. Crazy – but oh so fun!

Once again Jan and I worked with the Youth Group to put on a Valentine banquet for the church. We planned and prepared a meal and then provided some after dinner entertainment.

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And boy did we entertain them!

It was epic!

16807381_1478265358853072_8916612015314010498_nPeople are still talking about the hilarious skits that left the audience rolling with laughter.

A synchronized swimming team with zebra bath caps from the dollar store that brought down the house.  A cowboy ballerina in hat and boots – participating in a homespun talent show.

Judged by a panel of “local” celebrities.

And won by a wig wearing pastor-impersonator.

While people may still chuckle about our finale – a parody of the 70’s hit – Staying Alive that we called Staying Awake……the memories that make my heart happy and still bring tears to my eyes are the behind the scene moments that nobody else saw.

The youth group kids that quietly cleaned up the massive mess in the kitchen after we made Oreo cookie and strawberry ice cream desserts.

The servant hearts that washed dishes, vacuumed floors, organized props, cleaned up costumes, set up mikes, found music, moved chairs and hauled tables.

The tender hearts who prayed before practices and really loved each other.

These kids.

That is what I will remember.

 

Mom’s Birthday

“What do you want for your birthday?,” they asked.

“That’s easy,” I responded.

“I want all my children home at the same time.

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I want to play games – lots of games  – and snack all afternoon.

I want an easy supper – like smoked turkey sandwiches.

And a beautiful big salad with berries and pecans and feta cheese.

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And queso dip with chips.

And ice cream – with chocolate – lots of chocolate.

And I want to eat on paper plates so we don’t have dirty dishes.

Yes, that’s what I want.”

 

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And they came – all of them.

And we played games and laughed.

We ate turkey sandwiches and lots of queso on paper plates.

We snacked on puppy chow and popcorn.

We stayed up late and savored every minute.

It was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Yes. That’s exactly what I wanted for my birthday.

Selfie School

14962689_10154197792448315_1460252343965573620_nCould somebody please make a selfie tutorial for those over 40?

Seriously.

I have been attempting selfies for sometime now with no success. Nada. Not a single shot that I would even want to look at – let alone post on social media.

My kids have tried to help –

“Hold the camera up, now lift your head or you’ll have a double chin, tilt and smile!”

But somehow I just end up in unnatural positions with a double chin and a crazy glare from my glasses.

That is if I can actually hold the phone still long enough to snap a shot.

And if I can remember which button to push when I’ve finally gotten myself pretzel-ed into the correct position.

And if the phone hasn’t already turned itself off from inactivity because the aforesaid pretzel-ing takes time.

My kids can just whip out their phones, smile and snap. Boom – they’ve posted to social media with a catchy tagline. And it looks great. Every single time.

Meanwhile my Facebook profile picture is six years old.

This seems grossly unfair.

At least I’m not alone.

My sisters have the same problem.

When we’re together someone will get the bright idea to take a selfie of the group. Then we all burst into laughter at the absurdity that it could possibly look good.

But we pull out our phones, trying to remember which buttons to push while we jam our heads together, tilting to avoid double chins and bifocal glare, and end up with a hilarious shot that will never be seen in public.

And I do mean never.

Is their help for us?

Is their still time to learn how to do a selfie?

I can only hope.

PS True confessions – I looked at all the selfies on my phone and rejected all seven of them to share on this blog post. Thanks to my sister Sandy for taking a picture of our kiddos taking a selfie and making it look so easy.