My sister and I have been discussing customer service lately. She works in retail and is just as appalled as I am at what is deemed as "customer service" these days. In fact, recently, I tried to make a purchase at a local business and ended up leaving the product there and vowing to myself that I would never frequent that establishment again. The woman with whom I interacted treated me as though it was a privilege for me to be a customer there.
On the flip side of the same coin is what constitutes a good employee. I read this blog entry this morning, written by a homeschool dad who owns his own construction business. He gives a very clear picture of what he wants in an employee. I couldn't agree with Mr. Boyer more. He's right, character matters and as a parent, outside of pointing my children to Jesus Christ, there is nothing more important for me to be diligently teaching my children. (This was a good reminder to me and very apropos, as Matt and I will be planning our homeschooling year today.)
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Small Town Livin'
We loaded up the whole family and headed north this past weekend to visit my Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna. We stayed in the guest house again. It was a long weekend visit, instead of a five day visit like the one we did last year. We packed a lot of fun into a couple of days, though.
We ate our meals alfresco and I reminded Uncle Keith how we used to eat the exact same way in the very same back yard when Grandma and Grandpa were still alive. I've been thinking a lot about Grandma and Grandpa lately. I miss them terribly. I know they would have loved to have been there this past weekend, watching the kids run and play and experience so many things with the wonder that is so common to childhood.
After dinner each evening, we watched old episodes of Rawhide and ate popcorn that Uncle Keith popped in the Whirley Pop. Nothing like old black and white t.v. reruns to tell it like it is. Good is good and evil is evil. And no matter what, good always wins and cowboys always ride and end the show by saying, "Head 'em up! Move 'em out!"
Saturday morning we woke up and Matt asked me what I'd like to do most. "Well," I said, "I'd like to go to some yard sales, but I know there won't be any of those." (This is Small Town USA during the harvest season.) Imagine my delight when Aunt Leanna told me that there was a neighborhood yard sale going on that morning. Yeah for me!
We hit a grand total of five yard sales with unbelievably good prices. I even procured a swimming suit for Paul. He had forgotten to pack his own suit. The little boy at one sale was kind enough to go into his house and find an extra swimming suit of his for me to buy. I paid him extra for the effort. Paul was thankful that he got to go swimming that afternoon with the rest of the crew at the community pool.
There are a lot of trains that run through that small town. Saturday after we ate hamburgers for lunch, we got to see a train up close as it sped along the tracks behind the drive-in. My kids were ecstatic. They waved furiously at the engineer who waved back and then blew the train whistle an extra time just for them. Pretty cool.
My dad made a special trip to town to help his three oldest grandkids fish on Saturday afternoon. Grandpa Tom is an expert at putting worms on hooks and taking hooks out of fish mouths. His skills were put to good use that afternoon. Uncle Keith promised Paul that he would take him for a little more fishing before church the next day. Needless to say, both Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna were surprised to find Paul the city boy on their doorstep at 5:30 a.m. all bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready to head to the fishing pond.
Of course Uncle Keith treated the kids to combine rides and special drinks at the local coffee shop. I stayed back at the house with Isaac and got to spend some time with Aunt Leanna. The kids also enjoyed playing with the dogs, Libby and Arie, throughout the weekend.
Sunday we went to church. We took the first pew on the left, just like last year. The opening hymn was "How Great Thou Art." Behind me I heard Uncle Keith's tenor and Aunt Leanna's alto and I was immediately transported back in time thirty odd years or so. Same hymn, same voices, same church, same girl--now all grown up with a family of her own. Needless to say, I got a bit teary.
Later in the service, we sang my Grandma's favorite hymn, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." How many times in my life, surrounded by those I love, have I sung that hymn in that little church? Time marches on and though that small congregation still has many familiar faces, many faces are now absent, saints who have gone on to Heaven. Yet, through tragedy and triumph, those still living gather every Sunday and give glory to God. And the immutable God, the Lord the Giver of Life, always meets His people there with His unfailing love. No matter how wildly the winds of change swirl around that tiny church, she stands faithful to her First Love, a bulwark in the midst of the storm. I was privileged to worship there on Sunday.
After such a fun filled weekend, many a tear was shed when it was time for our family to pack up and head home. Lydia asked, "Can't we stay for one more day?" Joel asked, "Can't we stay for a thousand more days?" Alas, it was time to go, but when we got home, we pulled out the Whirley Pop and ate popcorn as we watched one last episode of Rawhide before snuggling up in our beds for the night.
We ate our meals alfresco and I reminded Uncle Keith how we used to eat the exact same way in the very same back yard when Grandma and Grandpa were still alive. I've been thinking a lot about Grandma and Grandpa lately. I miss them terribly. I know they would have loved to have been there this past weekend, watching the kids run and play and experience so many things with the wonder that is so common to childhood.
After dinner each evening, we watched old episodes of Rawhide and ate popcorn that Uncle Keith popped in the Whirley Pop. Nothing like old black and white t.v. reruns to tell it like it is. Good is good and evil is evil. And no matter what, good always wins and cowboys always ride and end the show by saying, "Head 'em up! Move 'em out!"
Saturday morning we woke up and Matt asked me what I'd like to do most. "Well," I said, "I'd like to go to some yard sales, but I know there won't be any of those." (This is Small Town USA during the harvest season.) Imagine my delight when Aunt Leanna told me that there was a neighborhood yard sale going on that morning. Yeah for me!
We hit a grand total of five yard sales with unbelievably good prices. I even procured a swimming suit for Paul. He had forgotten to pack his own suit. The little boy at one sale was kind enough to go into his house and find an extra swimming suit of his for me to buy. I paid him extra for the effort. Paul was thankful that he got to go swimming that afternoon with the rest of the crew at the community pool.
There are a lot of trains that run through that small town. Saturday after we ate hamburgers for lunch, we got to see a train up close as it sped along the tracks behind the drive-in. My kids were ecstatic. They waved furiously at the engineer who waved back and then blew the train whistle an extra time just for them. Pretty cool.
My dad made a special trip to town to help his three oldest grandkids fish on Saturday afternoon. Grandpa Tom is an expert at putting worms on hooks and taking hooks out of fish mouths. His skills were put to good use that afternoon. Uncle Keith promised Paul that he would take him for a little more fishing before church the next day. Needless to say, both Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna were surprised to find Paul the city boy on their doorstep at 5:30 a.m. all bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready to head to the fishing pond.
Of course Uncle Keith treated the kids to combine rides and special drinks at the local coffee shop. I stayed back at the house with Isaac and got to spend some time with Aunt Leanna. The kids also enjoyed playing with the dogs, Libby and Arie, throughout the weekend.
Sunday we went to church. We took the first pew on the left, just like last year. The opening hymn was "How Great Thou Art." Behind me I heard Uncle Keith's tenor and Aunt Leanna's alto and I was immediately transported back in time thirty odd years or so. Same hymn, same voices, same church, same girl--now all grown up with a family of her own. Needless to say, I got a bit teary.Later in the service, we sang my Grandma's favorite hymn, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." How many times in my life, surrounded by those I love, have I sung that hymn in that little church? Time marches on and though that small congregation still has many familiar faces, many faces are now absent, saints who have gone on to Heaven. Yet, through tragedy and triumph, those still living gather every Sunday and give glory to God. And the immutable God, the Lord the Giver of Life, always meets His people there with His unfailing love. No matter how wildly the winds of change swirl around that tiny church, she stands faithful to her First Love, a bulwark in the midst of the storm. I was privileged to worship there on Sunday.
After such a fun filled weekend, many a tear was shed when it was time for our family to pack up and head home. Lydia asked, "Can't we stay for one more day?" Joel asked, "Can't we stay for a thousand more days?" Alas, it was time to go, but when we got home, we pulled out the Whirley Pop and ate popcorn as we watched one last episode of Rawhide before snuggling up in our beds for the night.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Madder Than a Hornet
Jude, our little tough guy, doesn't get hurt. He just gets angry. Case in point--last night. We were all outside in the back yard putting all the junk back in our shed after a major clean fest (major mouse doo doo). Jude was playing all by himself with one of Daddy's golf clubs. All of a sudden, he started howling and yelling. He was making his angry noises. He was downright furious. He started spinning around and around with the golf club, trying to clobber something, we just weren't sure what.
Matt and I ran over to Jude to ask him what was wrong. He said, "Bee! Bee! Bee sting me!" We asked him where the bee had stung him. He pointed to his ear. Sure enough, I saw a couple of sting marks along the outside of his ear, probably from a wasp. Grace took Jude into the house to apply meat tenderizer. When I looked at Jude's ear about five minutes later, it was red and swollen to about twice its normal size. I gave Jude some Benedryl and then he went right back outside to play again. You just can't keep a tough man down.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Independence Day 2011
We enjoyed a beautiful Fourth of July this year. We invited family and friends over for a BBQ. The men and the kids set off a few fireworks, launched a rocket and shot a few Red Coats with water balloons and a two man sling shot. The gals and I stayed inside and got some good chatting in. After our company left for the evening, we headed over to the home of long time friends to watch the city fireworks display from their front lawn. I enjoyed watching the looks on my little ones faces as they viewed the fireworks bursting in the sky more than I enjoyed watching the fireworks themselves.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
June: Gone Already?
I'm not sure where my summer has gone. I very mistakenly thought that life would slow down a bit once summer arrived, but I was very wrong.
The kids, minus Grace and Isaac, all took swimming lessons. It was Jude's first year for lessons and he was proud to be a member of the big kid club. All the kids made good progress and acquired new swimming skills. Joel seems to be the most natural swimmer of the bunch, an ability he most certainly did not inherit from me. I think I took intermediates three times and then they finally just passed me out of pity or something. I did take and pass the lifesaver swimming class, but not without a monumental amount of effort on my part. Joel just seems to have an innate sense of how to move his body in the water. Even his swim instructor was pleased with his ability to rotate his body as he swims, which I guess is unusual for a kid his age.
Speaking of Joel, he got a new cowboy hat. He figured out the hat he had was only a play cowboy hat bought in the toy section of Walmart. So he wanted a real cowboy hat--a beige one. Daddy found just such at hat at the feed store and bought it for him. The only time Joel took off his new hat, boots and Wranglers during the month of June was to get in the swimming pool. Right after swimming lessons he got right back into his cowboy garb. The other moms at the pool thought it was pretty cute--and rightly so.
The kids and Daddy spent an evening last week putting their individual goals for the summer on post-it notes and then sticking them to the family room wall. One of Joel's goals is to participate in the mutton bustin' event at the local fair in August. He's confident of his sheep riding abilities, even though he's never tried it. We're going to see what we can do to fulfill this dream of Joel's. Of course Mama thinks that mutton bustin' sounds like a dangerous venture, but Joel has his mind set. And it's very cute to hear him say, "muttin' bustin'."
We were gifted a big box of Bing cherries last week, so Grace and I set to work. Grace cleaned and pitted them all, which is the messy, tedious part. I then put the majority of the cherries in the food dehydrator (in order to make chocolate cherry candy with them at Christmas time). I also canned a batch of jam and made four cherry kuchen.
The neighbor was finally able to swath and bale his hay this past week. Every time he rode past the fence separating our properties, he had an gaggle of seven kids waving, hooting and hollering at him. I'm sure he had never before baled hay in front of such an adoring audience.
Isaac learned how to sit up in June. He's also perfected the art of the roll as a semi-efficient means of transportation. He ends up at the other end of the room, not purposely, though he enjoys the journey and the playthings (forgotten by his older siblings) that he finds strewn on the floor along the way.
Matt has invited a bunch of people (including two of his bosses, yikes!) from work for a BBQ here next week, so I have high hopes to get the place spiffed up a bit before the big event. The weather is finally getting good and hot, so the kids and I will have to work early in the morning to avoid fading in the heat. I'm sure they'll be pleased to breath deeply of the pleasant morning air and set their industrious hands to such beneficial work.
The kids, minus Grace and Isaac, all took swimming lessons. It was Jude's first year for lessons and he was proud to be a member of the big kid club. All the kids made good progress and acquired new swimming skills. Joel seems to be the most natural swimmer of the bunch, an ability he most certainly did not inherit from me. I think I took intermediates three times and then they finally just passed me out of pity or something. I did take and pass the lifesaver swimming class, but not without a monumental amount of effort on my part. Joel just seems to have an innate sense of how to move his body in the water. Even his swim instructor was pleased with his ability to rotate his body as he swims, which I guess is unusual for a kid his age.
Speaking of Joel, he got a new cowboy hat. He figured out the hat he had was only a play cowboy hat bought in the toy section of Walmart. So he wanted a real cowboy hat--a beige one. Daddy found just such at hat at the feed store and bought it for him. The only time Joel took off his new hat, boots and Wranglers during the month of June was to get in the swimming pool. Right after swimming lessons he got right back into his cowboy garb. The other moms at the pool thought it was pretty cute--and rightly so.
The kids and Daddy spent an evening last week putting their individual goals for the summer on post-it notes and then sticking them to the family room wall. One of Joel's goals is to participate in the mutton bustin' event at the local fair in August. He's confident of his sheep riding abilities, even though he's never tried it. We're going to see what we can do to fulfill this dream of Joel's. Of course Mama thinks that mutton bustin' sounds like a dangerous venture, but Joel has his mind set. And it's very cute to hear him say, "muttin' bustin'."We were gifted a big box of Bing cherries last week, so Grace and I set to work. Grace cleaned and pitted them all, which is the messy, tedious part. I then put the majority of the cherries in the food dehydrator (in order to make chocolate cherry candy with them at Christmas time). I also canned a batch of jam and made four cherry kuchen.
The neighbor was finally able to swath and bale his hay this past week. Every time he rode past the fence separating our properties, he had an gaggle of seven kids waving, hooting and hollering at him. I'm sure he had never before baled hay in front of such an adoring audience.
Isaac learned how to sit up in June. He's also perfected the art of the roll as a semi-efficient means of transportation. He ends up at the other end of the room, not purposely, though he enjoys the journey and the playthings (forgotten by his older siblings) that he finds strewn on the floor along the way.
Matt has invited a bunch of people (including two of his bosses, yikes!) from work for a BBQ here next week, so I have high hopes to get the place spiffed up a bit before the big event. The weather is finally getting good and hot, so the kids and I will have to work early in the morning to avoid fading in the heat. I'm sure they'll be pleased to breath deeply of the pleasant morning air and set their industrious hands to such beneficial work.
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