Visitors!

We had the great priviledge of having Jake and my sister Catherine over this weekend for their fall break. We hadn't seen them since we moved from Marion in January--we were WAY overdue! They got here Thursday night and we didn't waste any time hitting the streets of DC...we managed to make it to all the memorials, Ford's Theater and Qdoba all in one afternoon! Catherine had some really nice leg cramps from all the walking. :)

Then on Saturday we went to a local pumpkin patch and selected our perfect projects...strangely, there was only one weird-shaped pumpkin, and Jake found it. The rest of us were stuck with round, smooth, perfect, boring pumpkins. When it came time to carve them, it was funny to see what design we each chose. Catherine and I obviously grew up in a home where Catherine's gap teeth were a big deal because we both made gap-toothed pumpkins. Nate took great pride in his pumpkin, specifically for the "angry eyebrows." They are not that angry, but he kept insisting that they were the angriest eyebrows ever. Jake's pumpkins gets the A, though...he made an incredible likeness of his new best friend--Jasper. The acuracy of his design is spectacular! :)

They left this morning right after lunch...the visit seemed much too short and I hope we get to see them again soon. Enjoy the photos!

Oh, Jasper...

I had a brake light out, and when Nate went to fix it, Jasper thought we were going somewhere. Not wanting to be left behind, he hopped into the rear-most portion of the vehicle where he always rides. Except he doesn't usually ride in my car, where the rear-most portion of the vehicle is the trunk. Apparently he doesn't care. :)

*This picture accurately depicts the "rear-most" portion of the vehicle. :) You still have to love me, Nate. :)

It's that time of year again...

These are some of my favorite pictures of two of my favorite people in the whole world. The shots were taken about this time last year at the high point in Wisconsin...I was so proud of Gramma and Grandpa for making it all the way to the top! Boy, do I have in-shape grandparents. :) That second one always makes me laugh...it was Grandpa trying to figure out how to work the digital camera. :)

Maria Pull?

So I was sitting in the kitchen eating waffles. Completely minding my own business really, and I look over and see this:



It made it awful hard to eat waffles cuz I was laughing so hard. :)

God's been working out!

I had a great conversation with one of the guys I work with at the gym last night...Friday nights are really slow, which gave us a chance to talk over subs from Subway. Just having a conversation at all was quite an answer to prayer, and the topic of conversation...well, isn't it just like God to go above and beyond? :)

This particular guy, who is just a bit older than me, just broke up with his girlfriend of 5 years. I have a really good feeling about it because he is a smart, quality guy and she--well, I don't know her well, so let's just say I never felt like they really "fit." So he's on a new track now, at that stage where he's sort of feeling things out, trying to get his bearings, figure out how to do this, etc. GREAT time for making some changes, if you ask me. :) Anyway, he asked me randomly if Nate and I's relationship changed when we got married. To be truthful, I told him yes, it did, some for the better and some for the not better. We have lots of things to work on. :) And before I could elaborate anymore on it, he asked me if we had lived together before we got married. I just about cried at the opportunity to explain to him how much that can damage a relationship, not make it better like the world says it will.

Nate and I did not live together before we got married, but we struggled with physical things for most of our dating life; sometimes I feel like, considering all that went on, we basically did live together but just didn't call it that because that is a sin you can't hide, while physical things you sort of can. So I am well aware of the psychological and emotional turmoil that a woman experiences when certain marriage-only benefits are pursued outside of marriage. As I was talking to this guy about all of this, I was discouraged at my inability to find words to accurately describe what happens without sharing too much detail...we have not been friends that long and I didn't want to gross him out or overwhelm him or make him feel awkward. At the same time, though, I wanted to convey the seriousness of the situation.

We only had 10 minutes or so to talk, so obviously it wasn't a real in-depth discussion, but I feel like it's got him thinking and perhaps re-thinking some of his habits. You guys, out of everyone I work with, I feel like this guy has the most potential in life--he is smart, curious, and bold about the things he believes in--and is really someone who, if he ever got hooked on Jesus, could really do some damage for the Kingdom. And this big time of change in his life might be just the primest of all prime times for him to make that decision. Please join me in prayer for this man's future and for my own wisdom to open my mouth when I should and be bold in a way that does not push him away.

This is SO exciting!

Thankfulness...

Inspired by my friend Amy's excercise in thankfulness, I thought I would make a list of my own. Here are ten things I am very, very thankful for today...

• The kind and gentle spirit my husband has. He is never mean or rude to anyone, not even to campers who really deserve it, or to I, who sometimes super deserves it.

• Weather that is sunny with highs in the 60s. Perfect fall weather.

• Enough intelligence to know how to be a good student and the desire to do so. I am realizing more and more that not everyone has this...scary when these people are going into the medical profession!

• Hymns

• A piano on which to play the hymns, even if it is grossly out of tune and third-space C won't play.

• A job at a gym so I can go to the classes for free.

• God's faithfulness to be Jehovah Jireh in all senses of the name...abundantly providing everything I need precisely when I need it. Like the woman at the gym yesterday. I think I may have just made my first friend in West Virginia.

• Free sermons online...both by podcast and by live feed. It is funny that they call it live "feed" because that's exactly what it is to me: sustenance.

• Jasper
  

• The gift of today, and that Nate and I both got this gift again.

Grab a Kleenex

My father-in-law sent this to me today...

From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day. Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester , Mass. , 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. ``He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;'' Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. ``Put him in an institution.''

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. ``No way,'' Dick says he was told. ``There's nothing going on in his brain.'' "Tell him a joke,'' Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? ``Go Bruins!'' And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, ``Dad, I want to do that.''

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described ``porker'' who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. ``Then it was me who was handicapped,'' Dick says. ``I was sore for two weeks.''

That day changed Rick's life. ``Dad,'' he typed, ``when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!'' And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. ``No way,'' Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, ``Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?'' How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii . It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-o! ld stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? ``No way,'' he says. Dick does it purely for ``the awesome feeling'' he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? T! wo hour s, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

``No question about it,'' Rick types. ``My dad is the Father of the Century.'' And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. ``If you hadn't been in such great shape,'' one doctor told him, ``you probably would've died 15 years ago.''

So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston , and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland , Mass. , always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy. ``The thing I'd most like,'' Rick types, ``is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.''

Watch the video at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryCTIigaloQ


I want to be a nurse because I feel like it is my way of being Rick's dad to all of my patients. I think, at some point, everyone needs a Rick's dad in their life.

More games, but no flames

I am happy to report that this year's US Open (specifically, Andre Agassi's performance in it) has concluded its airing in our house with no articles of furniture being toasted. You will recall that last year, the intensity of Agassi's game led to our coffee table being lit on fire. Flame free this year.

Be Still My Soul

Was moved by the truth in this hymn this morning....

Be still, my soul! the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul! thy best, thy heavenly friend
through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul! thy God doth undertake
to guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul! the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Apple Pie?

Due to a great deal that I couldn't pass up, I now have approximately 2 bushels of apples (that means a lot of apples) that I need to use up very soon. I don't have much experience in knowing which recipes freeze well and which don't, so I need some help. If anyone has a great apple pie recipe that can be frozen after it is baked, please pass it along! Either leave it in a comment or e-mail it. Thank you! :)

Power of Prayer

Maria gets the feeling on Thursday morning like she needs to hit the floor with her knees, that God is urging her to prayer. Maria had planned to attend an aerobics class at the gym before work. Weighing the two options, Maria decides she will just pray in the car on the way to the aerobics class. Maria later learns of an event that occured on Thursday that had a rather undesirable outcome. Maria is stuck wondering if she would have prayed, if things would have turned out differently. If she could have stopped the yucky from coming.

I believe in the power of prayer, I really do. Which is why I can't get over the thought that I could have done something. Could I have fought off the enemy and avoided the current circumstances? The situation, technically, is not my fault, but if it could have been avoided had I done what I was supposed to, that does make me partially responsible for the way things are now.

What do I do with this?

Sometimes it bothers me that people tend to comment more on the pointless or strictly-for-entertainment blog entries...not just mine, but all across the board...but they remain unnervingly quiet on the more in-depth and/or controversial blogs. Anytime people write about a certain stand they are taking or Biblical truths they are grasping and/or struggling with and/or feel deeply about, the "comments" section is pathetically empty.

I am guilty of being a non-commenter on the deeper blog entries. Sometimes I disagree with the post and am afraid to voice my opinion, sometimes I agree and just find it redundant to comment about it, and sometimes, I will confess, I do not comment because I have skipped over that particular entry, feeling like it was going to take too much work to read the whole thing and think through it.

I would guess that many people have these same feelings, and that drives me crazy. It is so frustrating to walk around needing depth in my life and have conversations with people who are feeling the same loss, yet when we are actually confronted with depth, we avoid it. Because it is safer. Easier.

Grrr.

Sometimes you just want to do this:

You know, stick your fingers in your ears, make a scary face, and lean way out over the wall of a humongous cathedral.

(This was taken by Nate at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC. More info later on exactly what we were doing taking pictures of gargoyles on the rooftop of a cathedral in DC.)

God's Gym

Do you ever get the feeling that you are a twinkie in a sea of rice cakes? That sharp, clear understanding that you definitely do not blend well with your current surroundings? That you stand out like a white guy on an NBA team?

I grew up in the church and have had Scripture quoted to me, reminding me that I am not of this world, and the world will reject me because I am Christ's and they rejected Him first...it is one thing to hear that and quite another to actually experience it. For those of you who don't already know, I started working at our local Gold's Gym last month (making my twinkie analogy all the more fitting), and in the past 30 days I have felt the difference between me and the world more intensely than I have ever felt it before.

Lots of the women I work with tan frequently, have perfect hair, have perfectly toned bodies, and have had breast implants. They look terrific and I am not condeming or judging them for these things in anyway...I am just way more aware of my white hind end that has never seen the light of day, my haircut that is not exactly what I had wanted, my not-so-toned areas and my small womanly curves. Some days I walk into work and just wish I could get through the day without anyone seeing me because I feel so frumpy next to these other women.

But my not fitting in goes way deeper than looks. It is painfully obvious that my priorities/morals/choices are in stark contrast to those of my co-workers. I work with gay people who often share details of their private life; I work with people who come in Monday and exchange drinking stories from the weekend; I work with people who are not married but are living together; I work with people who are not married or living together but are having sex; I work with guys who stand around my front desk area and talk about other women, make sexual jokes and/or comments that though not directed at me, often make me wish my small features were even smaller because I can't stand the thought of what they might be saying when I'm not around.

Yes, I know that the fact that these things shock me so much points out how sheltered I am. I know that this is how the world is now and that this work environment is not unlike any other. I know that I should just get over it and accept that these things are part of men/life. Or should I? Shouldn't I be bothered by some of these things? Just by reading the Scriptures, it is clear that God does not approve of anything I just mentioned, so why should I?

The working out of how to be in this world but not of it has been an area of slow growth for me. I really love the people I work with and truly enjoy them time I spend with them. It is just hard to know how to love and support the person but not love and support the actions, all the while trying to keep my light out from under a bushel but avoiding burning the place down with words of fire and brimstone.

Often when I am typing "Gold's Gym" I will miss the "l" and type "God's Gym." While I do think the "L" key is in an awkward place, I also think God is reminding me that it is, ultimately, His gym; that He loves those people, too, and that He has plans for them and wants them to come to Him as much as He loves you or I and wanted us to come to Him. I am both honored and humbled at the thought that He might want to use me to reach some of them...like Moses, I am tempted to think up some excuse to avoid opening my mouth to my co-workers ("Lord, I can't speak to these people! I have small boobs!"), but I am trying to remain open and willing.

If you think of it, pray for the people at God's Gym this week.

Quiet Time

I seem to go through quiet times every couple of months. Not "quiet time" as in reference to the pace of life or the state of my emotions, but "quiet time" as in I just have nothing to say. No, it's not even that...it's that I can't find the right words to accurately express what is happening on the inside. I don't write much during these times, and I seem to speak less and process more. I know I am in another one of these times when, as Nate and I lay in dark silence at night, he asks, "What is wrong?", and continued dark silence is his answer. I can't say, "Nothing," because I am thinking while nothing is really wrong, something does not feel right. But I don't know what is unright, so neither can I explain it...I just lay there wanting to say something but feeling like my mouth has forgotten how to work, or like if I did open it, a whole stream of nothing that made sense would come out.

I am in one of those times (as you might have guessed from over a month of not posting). Just a lot of processing and sorting things out. We just got back from a few days visitng family in Texas, and that was such a wonderful, fabulous time of refreshment, but it was also a very educational experience for me and I feel like God gave me a whole dose of raw material in that trip that He is going to slowly mold and shape and work out in me over the next couple of months. I wish I could explain it better, but it is all so vague, even to me. It is just a sense that He is going to use what He showed me there to change who I am.

Just to brighten things up a little bit, here are some pictures from Texas, compliments of Uncle Ken. Unfortunately, we didn't get many shots with family, but we did get a couple. The first is Nate's cousin Tate (yep, that was confusing to some of the smaller kids) and his son Davis. Then obviously that's me and Nate in a hat store...I think I am a Western girl by nature, but Nate doesn't pull of the black Stetson very well. We will work on that. The last one is a group shot of all of the Texas family...just kidding. It is a picture of some Longhorns we saw at the Stockyards in Fort Worth. That one bull does look a lot like Uncle Ken, though...

PS

I've caught more than a little flack about omitting a certain detail from our New York trip last weekend. It was not intentional, I just did not know how to express my reaction to the situation in a way that would not be...taken the wrong way, for lack of a better way to say it. So here you go, the omitted detail, unedited. You've been warned. :)

Like I said, the McCallums took us out for lunch...I did not mention where they took us. I guess I didn't realize that Woodstock was actually a real live place that still supported life; honestly, the only thing I'd ever heard about Woodstock was what everyone in my generation (unless you live there) knows about Woodstock--that it was sort of like Sonshine Music Festival for hippies. And we usually leave it at that because (a) none of us are hippies and (b) none of us really know what it is that hippies do and (c) there are no national monuments in Woodstock and it is not a capital so they don't cover it in Geography class.

But, lo and behold, it actually IS a place, a place that you can DRIVE to, even, and there are people there. I was impressed before I even got out of the car! :) At first glance it appears to be just a normal summer tourist town, brimming with random shops and flea markets and out-of-the-ordinary restaraunts and people who are just happy to be out in the sunshine. But as you start to really look at stuff, you notice some very not-normal-summer-tourist-town things. Such as the fact that you can buy a bong in several of the little shops. And not just bongs but things to go with bongs, if you know what I mean. You can also buy just about any occult item you could conceive of buying, have your fortune read by any number of psycics, and participate in a healing drum circle in the middle of town most any afternoon of the week. And these are normal town events.

We actually ate lunch at a pretty normal restaraunt called Joshua's...I would go there again if I had to be in Woodstock over a mealtime. I had a turkey, apple and brie sandwich (first time I've ever had brie...it is a nice cheese, I've decided, but I will stick with sharp cheddar) with sweet potato circles (they were actually called 'chips' but they were not crispy) and Nate had a chicken, pesto, tomato and (fresh!) mozzarella sandwich minus the tomato. Both were really good, we thought. But I think I was too creeped out to really enjoy my food...on the beam next to Pastor McCallum's head was a poster advertising the Shaman healing drum circle, and I was weirded out just reading the bio on the leader, Julie Straightarrow. Note, Native Americans often have names like that and it actually is their name...there are no Native Americans in Woodstock and names like that only come from the "enlightenment" of the individual. No offense meant, I am just stating a fact.

I guess I am just showing my ignorance and my shelteredness by being so creeped out. I just didn't grow up with marijuana and bongs and voodoo dolls and such...those are things I've only ever heard about in a negative context and my first reaction is to run away when confronted with them. But stretching is good, and I am feeling more and more well-rounded by all this travelling to new areas we are doing.

McCallums, thank you again for welcoming us into your home and being such wonderful friends! I hope you really can make it down here for some time away...there's a cabin with your name on it! :)

"'Do not be afraid, O worm Maria,
O little Maria,
for I myself will help you,' declares the LORD,
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel." Isaiah 41:14

Lord, I will trust You in all of this. I will not be afraid.

Another weekend camping...I could get used to this!

We jetted away for yet another weekend camping this weekend...this time we headed up to New York to check out one of the other KOAs that RAC (who owns our KOA) runs. The Newburgh/New York City North KOA is about an hour north of the city and is actually in a VERY rural part of NY called Plattekill. Everything there ends in "kill," I noticed; not a very pleasant realization for someone who already doesn't care for the east coast. :)

We did have a pretty good time, though. We had thought we'd drive into NYC and try to catch a show since that is where "we" began (yay for Chorale's New York tour!), but we had Jasper with us and you can't just board a dog in a kennel for a night without having vaccination records and test results and stuff...we don't normally carry those types of things in the car, so needless to say we were forced to find dog-friendly activities. We looked up Wesleyan churches online (not that church is a dog-friendly activity...we just thought he could manage in the car for the length of a sermon) and found that the closest one to us was about an hour north, so we dressed in our nicest camping clothes and drove up for the 9:30 service. As it turned out, the pastor there is the father of Nathaniel McCallum whom we knew from Chorale. When we "meeted and greeted" we explained the connection and it was like instant credibility...we were no longer heathens off the street who didn't know any better than to not wear shorts and t-shirts to church--we were friends of Nathaniel McCallum. His parents, Wes and Patty McCallum took us in like they'd known us their whole lives, inviting us over, taking us out for lunch, etc. We had such a wonderful time with them and for three hours did not hate the east coast.

On the way home we stopped and checked another high point off our list...New Jersey's high point was six miles off the interstate we were travelling on, so it would have been rediculous to not stop. It was a decent high point, and had this fun obelisk-shaped monument on top that you could walk up in...sort of like a mini Washington Memorial. We braved the 292 steps and were rewarded with pretty much the same view we had at the bottom of the 292 steps, but it was fun. We did take some pictures but will be putting them up in an online album with all the rest of the high points pictures, hopefully this week sometime.

Where in the world (ahem, east coast) will the Lails be next weekend??!??

It's like circumcision...

Or atleast that's what I am told. The DeNeff sermon we listened to this weekend focused on circumcision...of the Old Testament, that is, and how it is to be paralleled in our lives today. Not literally. But sort of.

Let me start over. It was a great sermon on obedience to God and bearing the mark of a covenant with Him. Biblical example: God chose Abraham to be the father of many nations (covenant) and He told Abraham to have all the men circumcised before they went any further to set them apart as chosen by God (bearing the mark). Probably not the way Abraham would have chosen to be set apart, but that's usually the case with God. There is nothing wrong with not being circumcised...God still accepts into heaven people who are not. It is not the mark that gets you into heaven...it is, in a way, being willing to bear the mark. Not entirely, but you know what I mean.

DeNeff's crossover application into our lives was the challenge to live a circumcised life. It reminded me of the classic youth camp sermon on giving up what you know is wrong of you to be doing because you are a Christian...giving up what you feel God is asking you to give up...except that DeNeff wasn't asking us to give up bad habits, necessarily. He put it like this: "You say, 'But God, there's nothing wrong with this.' 'I know.' 'Other people don't have to give this up.' 'I know.' 'This has nothing to do with spirituality.' Silence. 'This is stupid.' Silence." Sometimes God asks us to give up perfectly good and natural things so that He can do something supernatural. Sometimes we can have those things back eventually, sometimes we can't. Sometimes the "something supernatural" is seen clearly by all who cross your path, sometimes you won't even know what it was all about until you get to ask Him to His face.

My thing for right now is exercise. And do not think for one moment that I am even the slightest bit happy about this. I know, it is strange because 90% of our nation has given it up with joy and relief...but it has been one of the hardest things for me for several reasons. First and foremost, I am terrified of gaining weight. Of all the things I do not want to be, chubby is the number one...been there, done that, not wishing to repeat. But second, and forgive how pathetic this sounds, but it is the truth, Denise Austin is the only friend I have out here. I am not even kidding...I so look forward to working out with her on her TV show every morning because she is encouraging, upbeat, and I can pretend it is just her and me hanging out, working out. It sounds lame even to me, but it is the sad truth.

But I understand why God is asking this of me right now--not that I need to understand, because obedience should not depend on understanding. But it certainly helps when you have an idea what's going on. :) I let my half hour with Denise be all my socialization because I am afraid to get out in the community and meet people (not having a church is not helping). I spend more time with Denise than I do with Him by far, and there are some very serious issues at hand that need immediate addressing...I need to be pouring that energy into my walk with God and into praying for and growing through these issues. I don't think He will ban me from working out forever, but my priorities are seriously misaligned and it is doing more damage than I am willing to admit.

So I am concluding my third day of 40 days without Denise, and so far I have not been making good use of the extra time. Dealing with issues does not mean taking naps. But maybe now that I've gone public with it, I'll feel like someone's checking up on me.

Pennsylvania Saves the East Coast

Nate and I took a much-needed getaway from the Harpers Ferry KOA this weekend and went camping at the Hershey KOA in Pennsylvania (one of the perks of managing a KOA is great discounts at other KOAs). We were both interested in visiting the city that supposedly smells like chocolate and in checking out some new territory, so we loaded up the family station wagon (sorry, the Subaru) with the dog and all our camping supplies and set out for some relaxation.

It was a really great weekend. Touring Hershey's Chocolate World was pretty neat (and free) and I really enjoyed just lounging by the pool in the afternoon. We even decided to "luxury camp" this time and took the air mattress..it felt like we were cheating, but cheating has never felt nicer. :) We had time for another great DeNeff sermon on the car stereo (which will be a topic for later discussion) and slept more in two nights than it felt like we did in the last month. The absolute best part of this weekend, though, was that someone talked to me.

Several someones, actually. The first was a woman who was coming out of the campground shower just as I was going in. Upon spying my shower gear, she smiled and said, "Oh, are you needing the shower? Let me get my stuff out for you." I just stood there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open in total disbelief first of all that she had smiled, and second that she had spoken to me. Then, after my shower, Nate and I had a nice little conversation with a couple whose site we walked past on the way back to ours. A whole five minutes of talking to smiling people! And later in the afternoon, as Jasper and I waited in the car for Nate to finish a game of disc golf, a couple who had parked next to us and their puppy walked up and we chatted about dogs and the area until Nate came back.

It seems silly, but it has just been so long since a stranger initiated interaction with me that I've almost forgotten how to respond. People in the Harpers Ferry area are not friendly and do not even acknowledge your presence unless absolutely necessary. Cashiers at Wal-Mart will complete your entire transaction without speaking to you or even looking at you unless you make them. Sales people at various stores will not ask if they can help you and will even let you stand at the register for several minutes before putting aside their current task to ring you up. Drivers are rude, servers are not friendly, and campers...we won't even go there.

So even though Pennsylvania does not get great marks for appearance or road quality (sorry, Combs, but you know it is true), its people saved the reputation of the entire East Coast for this midwesterner. I feel a little bit alive again and like there actually is hope of making friends here.

You might be an employee at Harpers Ferry KOA if...

1. You can do a whole load of laundry of just yellow shirts.
2. You answer your home phone with, "It's a great day at Harpers Ferry KOA..."
3. You cannot find the piece of equipment/tool you are looking for.
4. You find the missing piece of equipment and discover it is broken.
5. Your alcohol consumption is directly proportional to that night's number of reservations.
6. Your phone rings at 1:30am and it is a camper calling to say they are sorry they are late but they are about 10 minutes away now and want to know what site they are in.
7. You realize at work one day that all your fellow employees are 14 years old.
8. You realize the next day that the ones who aren't 14 still act 14.
9. You come to work the next day and no one else does.
10. Upon clocking out for the day, you run to the bathroom and change into your Casual Camper costume so no one will stop you on your way home and ask you to please deliver 2 cords of wood and a six-pack of Bud Light to their site.
11. Your little sister, who is doing volunteer work this summer, makes more money than you do.
12. You go down to the pool for a little pre-work swim and discover that the pool is closed because someone pooped in the skimmer last night.
13. The computers go down, the theater floods, two new hires don't show up for their first day, the city shuts off your water for repairs and forgets to notify you, the health department comes for inspection, and you catch an underage employee buying themselves some beer all in one day and it is not the worst day you've had all summer.

I'm a bit overdue for a post, aren't I? I apologize for the lack of new reading material here...you would not believe what we have been through the last couple of weeks. Honestly, as I sit here and think about how to explain everything, I am very near tears out of sheer exhaustion and mounting frustration with just about every aspect of life in West Virginia.

For starters, there is some good news...my family came out to visit a few weeks ago and it was so wonderful to have them here!!!! We had a lot of fun touring DC and driving through Gettysburg National Park and "periscoping" (you had to be there), not to mention eating smores and slightly overcooked hot dogs (read: Ed knocked one into the fire and rather than just pitching it, I insisted I would rinse it off and it would be fine...FYI, ashes leave a bit of an aftertaste) and the same pot of baked beans three days in a row...fabulous. :) Seriously, their visit was much too short and I am already looking forward to seeing them all again next summer.

Also, I have decided to join the ranks of many of the other Lail/Thurm/Johnson women in my family and begin a career in the medical field...I started taking classes towards a nursing degree a few weeks ago and will go full-time when we become official in-state residents in January (I have mixed feelings about being an official resident of this state...so far the only good thing about it is the in-state tuition). I am taking Anatomy and Physiology right now and I love the class, but have been frustrated more than once at the low educational standards of the region. My entire class is constantly asking, "Will that be on the exam?", "Will you tell us what will be on the exam?" and "Do we need to know that for the exam?" I sit in the back with my head in my hands wanting to scream, "Just know it all! You need this information for your careers, you idiots!" I think once I become a nurse, I will never let another nurse touch me for fear he or she was one of those who learned only what they knew would be on the exam. I was not on the exam, so don't come near me with that needle. The worst part, though, is that the professor caters to the complaints! Each quiz gets a little easier, a little shorter...I am really missing the scholastic standards of IWU.

Alright, so all of these exciting things have been going on, and right in the middle of it all, our staff sort of "blew up" and rumors went flying. We discovered that workers who are nice to our faces are not very nice to our backs, various supplies have mysteriously disappeared and we are tipped off that some employees might be using the company gas card to slip a few gallons into their car every once in awhile. In the end, our maintenance manager and housekeeping manager (husband and wife), who were the two most valuable employees we had, gave their 5 days' notice and left. On a Friday morning, right before the busy weekend. You can imagine how easy it is to find qualified and knowledgeable people who will work for near minimum wage at a seasonal job. So we have been scrambling, to say the least, to cover shifts and clean up messes and complete projects. I am now the head housekeeper (not because I am qualified or know anything about industrial chemicals, but simply because I am still here) and Nate is both the maintenance manager and the general manager. So I'm trying to go to school and do my homework and keep the house liveable AND work housekeeping every day of the week, and Nate is trying to keep all the maintenance guys busy with jobs and interview 15 people a day AND still do all his general manager stuff. You could say we are a little busy.

I wish I could now type a paragraph about how God is just carrying me/us through this whirlwind time and how we hardly feel the stress because God has given us superstrength...but I need to be honest and say that I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I'm bitter towards the company we work for for not letting us pay people what they are worth so we can attract qualified employees (I'm sorry, but minimum wage does not really attract good maintenance managers). I'm angry with the employees who are taking advantage of us. I'm even angry that I'm frustrated with all of this! I know that God is with us and that He IS carrying us in the palm of His hand, but I still feel like I can barely keep my head above the water. I just get up in the morning and start working and pray it will be enough to make it to tomorrow when I can work some more. I'm sure you can see why blogging has taken a bit of a backseat.

Anyway, I'm sorry this is not a more positive post. We need your prayers, everyone. We are definitely in over our heads at the moment.

*whew!*

I just finished the best book I've read since Francine Rivers' Redeeming Love graced my bedside table. Liz Curtis Higgs' newest novel, Grace in Thine Eyes, had me from page one. I would highly, HIGHLY recommend it to anyone who loves a good love story, but I would caution that the reader be prepared for an emotional rollercoaster. As I was reading and getting into the really good part, I kept thinking how similar my emotions were to the first (and coincidentally, the last) playoff game the Indianapolis Colts played this season. We're winning! We're not. We have hope! Dang it, couldn't cut it. He can still kick to win! He misses. Up and down, up and down...by the end of the game I'm exhausted and I didn't even get off the couch. Same with the book...He wins the woman! Oops, not quite. But she comes around! But then he screws up. But then she forgives! Then dang it, he goes and...I won't ruin the story for you. But seriously, I was exhausted by the seventy-first chapter!

Just to note, Grace in Thine Eyes is the fourth in a series, which I didn't know before reading it. Don't say no one told you. :)

The things you do for a decent sermon...

Nate and I are, unfortunately, STILL looking for a church to call home out here in West Virginia. It's really surprising, considering how freaking many people there are out here, how few truly-Bible-preaching-as-well-as-good-fellowship churches there are in the area. Like, none that we have found. Yesterday we tried a church in Middletown (which is in the middle, between Frederick, MD and Charles Town, WV) and heard a sermon that can pretty much be summed up in this:

"Okay, everyone turn to Acts 14. Here is what John 3 says... You see, in the diagram, we were on one side and God was on the other. But the cross makes a bridge! And I realized I was frustrated with the Coke machine. Frustrated with the Diet Coke button. Frustrated with the coin return. Frustrated with the drop box. And you know, sometimes we get frustrated with life, but God wants to fix that! When the stewardess asked what the man next to me wanted, he said, 'Beer.' Not Miller Light or Budweiser, just "Beer." And I realized God wanted me to share the gospel with this man. Because Franklin Graham is coming to Baltimore, and hundreds of people with him. Let's bow our heads..."

I am not even joking. Nate and I tried to be respectful, but we laughed the whole way home, just in total disbelief that this message came from the HEAD pastor of a GROWING church.

Thankfully, a sermon series we had ordered from College Wesleyan Church (which I am beginning to think is the last Bible-preaching church left on the planet) arrived not long ago, so we pulled out the tapes and prepared to get some good teaching when we realized that we didn't have a tape player. Must have ordered tapes because it was cheaper, overlooking the fact that we didn't have a way to play them. Except in Nate's car. So yes, we put the tape in the car tape player, rolled all the windows down, and pulled up our lawn chairs to hear the sermon. But we don't have lawn chairs plural, you say. This is true. So we pulled out THE lawn chair and dragged out the wicker rocker as well.

But it gets better. We had also had a rough couple of days at the office beforehand, and on Saturday night had purchased a six-pack of Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade. So we are out on our lawn, sitting on a camping chair and a wicker rocker, playing a sermon by a Wesleyan pastor on the car stereo at near-full volume as we drink hard lemonade. We even got a picture to prove it.



FYI, the dog was not drinking hard lemonade. He always looks like that.

Hope this makes you more fully appreciate your Sunday morning service. :)

Broken over Brokeback

I am really ashamed to admit this, but I feel the need to cleanse by confession: Nate and I watched Brokeback Mountain yesterday.

It really seemed so harmless and like it might be a good flick, having won a million awards and all, but the content of the movie made me want to vomit several times, and try as I might, I cannot get some of those scenes out of my head. I mowed the lawn today and the whole 3 hours I was pushing the mower around, I was asking God to cleanse my mind and my thoughts from what I'd seen and to forgive me for having kept watching when I should have quit (darn that whole "But the yucky stuff might be all over now!" thought train). I know I did nothing wrong, but I seriously feel like I watched two hours and eight minutes of pornography or something. It is that gross.

If it was supposed to give me cultural awareness, it definitely did that...I am painfully aware of the moral disintegration of humanity. If it was supposed to help me be more open-minded towards the gay lifestyle, it definitely did not do that...I am sickened by it and if anything, am more motivated to pray against people choosing that road.

I am a cutter...of coupons, that is...

I love cutting coupons. One of the biggest highlights of my week is cutting out the coupons in the Sunday paper...sometimes I even wake up early on Sunday morning, too excited about the possible coupons to sleep! I end up throwing away a lot of the coupons I cut, but some of them I do use, and let me tell you, there are few feelings that compare to getting a great deal with a coupon.

One of the local grocery stores occasionally has Triple Coupon week, when they will triple the value of your coupon (up to 99 cents) when you use your value card. This week I managed to get a box of Kudos granola bars for four cents, another for 64 cents, a big tube of Colgate toothpaste for 24 cents, and a half gallon of Breyers ice cream for 25 cents. Those are some great deals, but they don't beat the one Triple Coupon week when the store actually paid me 30 cents to buy a box of Bisquick. That was neat. :)

The thing I really love about using coupons, though, is not that I save money; it's that I'm "sticking it" to the store. Making them give me a great deal that they hadn't really meant to give. It's like finding some great loophole that not everyone sees and proving to the store that I am not a stupid consumer. Getting them back for overcharging me all the rest of the time.

This was evident yesterday when Nate and I went to Uno's for lunch after church. I had a coupon for $5 off a $15 food purchase. We were stuffed after our meal, but our bill hadn't quite made the minimum yet, so we ordered a $5 dessert anyway just so we could use the coupon. Because it wasn't as much about saving the money as it was "sticking it" to the restaraunt.

There are lots of yucky money-costing things in this world that I cannot do anything about...late fees, the hiking of gas prices, the rediculous cost of a Starbucks coffee, etc...but I will get revenge with my coupons. Oh yes, I will get revenge.

Okay, God, what are You up to here?

You know those moments when something happens...something very small and seemingly insignificant...and something about that moment just stays with you in a really big way? I had one such moment yesterday. Nate and I took the dog out for our nightly walk and decided to take the long way home, through the campground, just to see how things were going around the park. We were walking up from the tent area when I noticed a disabled girl using a walker to follow some other kids up a grassy hill. I thought she was really cute and watching her struggle up that small knob kinda tugged at my heart...I wanted to help her get up there! I was just about to turn my eyes away when all of a sudden she lost her balance and just kinda tipped over. I ran over to make sure she was okay, and as I helped her up, I was surprised to realize she wasn't trying to stand up on her own, but that she was leaning into me, trying to get her arms around my neck. I didn't really know what to do...I didn't want to alarm any watching parents by picking up their child, but this girl was leaving me no other option! So I wrapped her up in my arms (as much as one can wrap an 8-year old up in her arms) and just held her for a minute, rendered speechless at the trust this girl was showing to me, a complete stranger, and at the swirling mass of emotions I was feeling in that moment. Just about then her father arrived and I handed her back, he thanked me, and we continued on our way home.

Seems like no big deal, but all evening I thought about how much I'd wanted to help her up that hill and what I felt when she latched onto me. Even after I'd gone to bed, I just layed there and tried to understand why disabled people get to my heart the way they do. I told Nate maybe we should adopt a disabled child, because I'm sure there is a need for good homes for those kinds of kids...even as I said it I realized how strange such a statement was, coming from the mouth of someone who'd written a post just days earlier about not wanting to have kids. And there I was suggesting that we not only have kids, but that we have kids who need us more than normal...talk about a lifetime commitment. Hello, God, I can see You've been working on some things here. :)

I don't have much more to say on the subject...I'm still just kind of overwhelmed by the thoughts I've had about it and curious as to what God has up His sleeve. ????

The Best New Coffee Shop in Town

Since we arrived at the Harpers Ferry KOA in January, we have had Christmas just about every day. No snow, no manger scene, no snowperson-shaped cookies, but definitely a new surprise around every corner. Usually it is not a good surprise, like that the store roof had a small leak..."small" meaning large enough to cause flooding of the theater and almost 100% rottage of the stuff between the shingles and the ceiling. Or that the foundation of our house is caving in in the garage. Or that many of the full hook-up sites were improperly wired, causing power outtages and a few sparks here and there. Or that all of our first aid supplies expired two years ago. Or that our laundromat was THOROUGHLY infested with termites. Or that 0% of our propane lines were up to code. And the list goes on. As we frequently say, "We are in a rebuilding stage. Right now you go to fix one thing and ten other things break."

But we did actually have one nice surprise yesterday. Nate discovered a relatively new but hardly used coffee grinder and espresso machine in some random storage area while trying to get the snack shop together. Thinking it would be great to follow up on the coffee craze and add coffee drinks to our menu, Nate decided to bring the machine home to try it out. Let me remind you this is an industrial sized espresso machine and that he wanted to bring it HOME. :)

It sat in the kitchen for 24 hours before I made him move it, and it has since been relocated to the laundry room. The funniest part is that it is set up to be hooked up to a faucet; it's not the kind you just fill up. So Nate ran a hose through the laundry room window to the water spicket outside. I've included a photo to help your imagination.



It is not quite working yet...the hose leaked all over the table/ironing board. But Nate assures me he can fix it. :) So we're not open for business yet, but the Lail Laundry Room may soon be the hottest coffee shop in Harpers Ferry. Just step on up to the window to order. And while you're out there, turn on the water for the espresso machine.

Told you so!

See, Jerry, I told you we'd updated our blog!!!

A Taste of Home...not the cooking magazine...

We just got back from an AMAZING weekend in South Dakota...it was so hard to come back east! We headed back last Friday for Nate's mom's wedding on Saturday. It was a beautiful ceremony and it was great to finally meet Jim. Phyllis had done her best to describe him to us, but "ohhhhhh" and "*sigh*" and **big smile** don't really paint a very definitive picture. :) We got a wonderfully clear picture painted for us on Friday night, though, when his kids started sharing stories of him over dinner. Let's just say that when Jim gets excited, you'd better have on a helmet and at least a towel across your back, especially if there is any sort of gun (air, paintball, water, shot, etc.) within reach. ;) He is a wonderful guy, though, and we are thrilled to have him in the family. He and Phyllis are just like two kids on cloud nine but way more wise and mature. Photos of the bliss are at: http://photos.rcfirst.org


One other highlight of the trip home...my dad met us at the Minneapolis airport and rescued us from a four-hour layover by whisking us away to the Mall of America. After driving completely around the mall about 8 times, we finally figured out how to get in and we had a fabulous lunch at Rainforest Cafe. We tried really hard to remember where we parked...and did such a great job at it that I still remember we parked in P2East Georgia B10. Hey Dad, remember to not put your mug in the dishwasher. Wash by hand. :)

Another great part of the weekend was "just" hemming Nate's pants! Aunt Pat saved the day with a crash-course in hemming, and now Nate has three very wearable appropriate-length pants, and I have hemming skills! We also got to sneak in a couple games of disc golf, Balderdash with the Johnson clan (yes, all 80), and a night at the campground in Hill City, where all our craziness got started. We really packed stuff in and still feel like we didn't get to do everything we wanted to do.

So that was our weekend. :) Okay, so I wasn't going to say this, but it is Wednesday night, 9:30pm, which means another contestant from American Idol has just been sent home. All I'm going to say about this week's results is IT'S ABOUT TIME PARIS WENT HOME!!!!

:)

5 Things

Amy, this list should've been in that series you did a while back. These are my top five things it is difficult to find when you move to a new place:

1. A church
2. A trustworthy auto mechanic
3. Friends
4. A decent stylist that does not cut your hair like a mullet. Unfortunately, I am speaking from experience. More on this later.
5. That one photo from that one time...

Hmmm...

I have been spending some time blog-hopping lately, catching up on friends, family, acquaintences, people I met once, and people I've never met. It's been nice to capture little glimpses of lives I'm not really a part of...it's really neat to see where people end up and what they find to do with their lives!

One common theme I have run into over and over again in all my blog travels is BABIES. Everyone is having them. Some people have already had them and are still having more, and those who haven't had them are at least talking about having them, or are talking about other peoples' babies and wistfully commenting on the "someday" when they will have their own babies.

So I read these blogs and I look at the pictures and everyone looks so happy, even the pregnant people. These people are all so thrilled with their children and are excited to have more and the moms are loving being moms and the dads are just beaming with pride; they are taking family vacations to Disney World and are buying sippy cups and first sets of utensils and "manly" diaper bags...and it all strikes me as so odd because at the mere mention of the word "babies," I have the exact opposite reaction. I shrink back on the inside and the pit of my stomach drops somewhere into my legs; I almost feel nervous...even fearful, perhaps. And it's not that I don't think I could be a good mom or that I worry about Nate's parenting skills...this is not an issue of the ability to parent. It's the whole idea of having them around. It's the realizing all the things I wouldn't be able to do anymore, or that would at least be more difficult to do. It's worrying about gaining weight. It's being protective of my sleep and my time to spend with Nate and just plain feeling like I could not handle having someone who needed so much from me so much of the time.

And I sit there, looking at the pictures, wondering if there is something wrong with me for not wanting to have kids. Everyone else seems to be enjoying it, and most of them keep telling me we will enjoy it too and we should try it. Seems like sort of a serious thing to just "try it." I have really enjoyed most of the kids I have baby-sat...specifically Jenna and Todd. They were highlights for sure. :) But I also really enjoyed when their parents came home and I went on with my life. I don't know if I could be as excited about spending time with them if it never ended, and certainly parenting is a 24/7 deal.

I'm just not sure what to make of all of this.

Adventures in Domesticity

So JC Penneys had a great sale on mens jeans a few weeks ago, and Nate and I went to try to find him a few new pairs. Two pairs, one of which the crotch is ripping out of, is not really adequate, we thought, so off we went in the great search for jeans. I don't know who they use as a model to make pants these days, but it is certainly not anyone built like Nate or I, so we always approach pants shopping with a bit of hesitation, knowing that it will take many days and rejecting many pairs before finding one that fits even sort of well.

The good Lord was watching over us on this particular shopping day, though, because in less than two hours' time we found three pairs that looked really good and fit well...except that they were about 8 inches too long. Realizing that this was such a small problem compared to the much larger problem of not finding pants at all, Nate looked at me and said, "Well, can't you just hem them?" I love that the word "just" almost always comes before "hem" whenever "hem" is used. It implies an ease, a certain confidence about the simplicity of the activity of hemming something. "Sure," I say, "I can just hem them up." It's easy.

Except I can't sew. I can't correctly thread the machine (that I don't even have!). I have not the faintest idea what a bobbin is, why I need it, or where it goes. The extent of my sewing experience is pulling the pins out of quilts before my grandma expertly passed them under the needle, and piecing together a doll dress when I was 13...and by "piecing" I mean that I cut out the pieces and my mom sewed them together. This has never been a problem until now, when my husband's wardrobe and our ability to make budget this month ride on my being able to alter the only three affordable pairs of pants on the planet that fit him.

Well, I borrowed a machine and had the woman show me how to thread it, and so far I have hemmed (not "just hemmed", just "hemmed") two pairs of pants and patched a hole. I'm down to the second leg of the third pair of pants and just now things started going horribly wrong. Everything on the machine looks the same as it did when I started, I think, but the stitches are all messed up now and it is making a big mess. So I stopped to calm down and try to call someone to come over and help me. I'm glad I live really far away from my Home Ec teacher right now...she'd be disappointed with me, I think. Well, I'm disappointed with her. Why couldn't she make that one week of sewing in 8th grade more memorable?!?!??!

Deep Thoughts from the Weed Patch

Well, geez, if we aren't delinquent bloggers...our apologies for the lapse in updates. There are lots of good reasons for it, none of which you are probably interested in hearing, so I'll save my typing space for more useful thoughts. :)

Anyway, here we are...in West Virginia...so many exciting things going on! We really love being here in Harpers Ferry running this campground, and we love all the cool things there are to do out here. We've been to DC a couple of times, took a trip to Atlantic City, visited Covenant Life Church a few times, found a great disc golfing course...it's endless! We have a dog now, too...his name is Jasper and he's a lab/shepherd mix. We'll post a picture as soon as we get to it...if I can remember how to do it. It took me 15 minutes to log on to blogger.com to type this post because it's been so long since I was last on that I couldn't remember the password to save my life.

Anyway, I didn't hop on here today to give you a total rundown of all our excitement; I've just had some neat thoughts lately that I thought maybe were worth sharing. I (Maria) am working as a landscaper here at the campground, and have spent most of my time so far pulling weeds, because it is rediculous to plant a flower in the middle of a weed patch and expect it to grow. If that isn't a great life metaphor right there! Anyway, it has been great fun, let me tell you. I have done my share of grumbling about it. But God has acutally used those long hours with the weeds to teach me a few things.

There is this kind of weed I've been encountering all over the campground that drives me crazy. I don't know what it's called or even how to describe it to you other than that it looks like grass but has the longest root I have ever seen, and the root grows sideways, across the ground about two inches under the surface instead of growing straight down into the ground. I am not kidding you, I have pulled up a clump of grassy weed and found myself unearthing a stretch of mulch several feet long where the root of the dumb thing was hiding. You pull up a clump of weed on your left and find out that its root actually begins 8 feet to your right. And it never grows in a straight line across the ground; it zigzags all over the place, often crossing back over itself on the way.

So I'm sitting in a bed of mulch, pulling up these weeds and roots that go for miles, and it occurs to me that these weeds are a lot like women. Being one, I feel qualified to make this statement. :) But seriously. Much like the weed begins in one place but actually appears in a totally different place, so do many of our issues/frustrations rarely appear anywhere near the actual cause of the discord. I get mad at Nate for leaving the milk out after pouring some on his cereal but the real reason I am mad is in fifth grade Kelsey told Amanda I had a bad haircut and that because of it I couldn't sit at their lunch table. I get mad at the dog for licking me and wiping his wet nose on me when the problem is really that some other landscaper took my golf cart this morning and I had to haul my heavy watering can all over the campground by hand. We women hardly ever get mad at the real source of our frustrations; we like to save it and let it pop out at the most random times, over the most random things.

Also similar to the way this weed acts is the way sin acts in our lives. It doesn't look too bad on the surface, but it is going to be a lot harder to get rid of than you think. It has deep, long roots, and often affects more areas of our lives than we are willing to admit. Sometimes our sin is even undetectable until it makes a huge mess in someone else's flower bed, and sometimes its our flower bed that is ruined by another's long-rooted sin weed. What sins am I feeding and watering unknowingly? What sins are you keeping under the surface, believing no one will ever see them?

Nothing profound, nothing earth-shattering...just some thoughts from the weed patch. And there are more to come...these are Tuesday's thoughts and it's now Thursday...I'm behind already! It's going to be an interesting summer.