Monday, March 28, 2016

Fishing for Answers

For the last several months, our six year old grandson has been asking his grandfather questions regarding various fishing seasons.  "Papa, when's Trout season start?  Is it Pike season?  When can we catch Sunfish?"

Unfortunately, fishing has been at the bottom of our to do list over the last 40 years.  Not to mention, we've only been back to this area less than a year. 

The boy is tenacious.  

How else would we have learned


  • It's Trout and Salmon season
  • May is Pike season
  • Anytime is Sunfish season (although, I doubt we'll find any here, now)

We also learned another interesting tidbit.  There's a stretch along Lake Erie (north of us) called Eighteen Mile Creek, noted for some of the best Salmon fishing around.



*Three things I've learned from our grandson: Questions demand an answer, persistence pays off, and fishing is a means of communication.



http://www.perfectflystore.com/weighteenmilec.html









Monday, October 5, 2015

Those Were The Days, My Friend



While going through some old papers, I came across this poem.  I wrote it for one of my English courses while attending the University of Maryland's Asian Division in Okinawa, Japan.

During our tour, my husband was away on temporary duty (TDY) for weeks at a time.  I suppose I was a lot like Desdemona with Othello, savoring all my husband's stories when he returned.

I did make a few minor changes, and played around with the last line of each stanza continuing as a new thought.



TDY


The lifeless flowers speak of your absence,
As does your empty chair, during meals.
Having the whole bed to myself is not really 
What I want is to have you back by my side.

This morning, I poured a cup of black coffee,
Forgetting you were gone. I added cream and sugar,
 Then, slowly stirred.  I wondered where 
You were in another country without me. 

I drive the car to the commissary.
You ride a tuc-tuc to the dusty market place. 
 Old acquaintances smile and wave.  Nothing
Changes are small and few while you're gone.

Your mouth waters for a bowl of kowpot. 
The blind woman and her children beg 
On the corner like dogs at your feet
Looking for more letters in the mail. 

Brightly colored awnings beckon you like 
Women with fair tongues, calling you to 
Come for a closer look at the wares.  Your 
Eyes are on something more valuable.  


Time will pass and you will soon be home.  
I will make coffee while you unpack your bags, and
Proudly display the gifts you bought.  For a few
More months to keep you close.




Those Were The Days, My Friend.
We Thought They'd Never End.




Sunday, October 4, 2015

Keys and Unicorns From Heaven

Today, during church, it was discovered that one of the members had lost the key to his car.  As the service closed, and pastor prayed, he added an addendum: a special request for the key to be found.  He asked if anyone could possibly stay and search,  that it would be appreciated.  

The search was on.  We looked under tables, behind the coffee machine, outside in the grass, in the garbage can, and any where else we could think of.  "Maybe one of the kids picked it up thinking it was a toy." Nothing was beyond consideration. All the man's wife could remember is she had it in her hand when she was making her husband tea.  Beyond that, she had no recollection.

In the meantime, the pastor's nine year old son (who was recently adopted from China) asked in his best English if the key had been found.  I nodded my head, "no", that we were still looking.  He looked up at me with a smile in his brown eyes, "Jesus can find them!" I nodded, "Yes.  He can." I almost needed Hudson's simple faith to support my seed of doubt.

Verily, I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.   (Luke 18:17, KJV)


"We've got 'em!" shouted several men from outside.  They had been found in the last trash bag that had been taken out before service began.  Several "Amens" could be heard amidst the excitement.

During the ladies' Sunday School lesson, we were discussing how God's ear is always open to His children.   Unlike making telephone calls where you have to push #1 for English, #3 for an account balance, #5 to hear the menu, again, or #0 for a real person, we can go directly to the Lord.  There is never a wait (not even a second), and definitely no busy signal.


This brought another situation regarding a child's prayer to mind. 



Every now and then, my daughter in law calls me to share her morning prayer time with the children.  On one occasion, she asked her three year old daughter, Nola who and what she wanted to pray for. "I want to pray for Nana," referring to me (warm fuzzies).   Quickly, adding, "And, I want to pray for unicorns.  Won't that be fun?" By now, my daughter in law and I were laughing.  My response was the normal, "Isn't that cute?"


It was several months later in a conversation that my daughter in law made a comment regarding that particular conversation.  A box came in the mail for Nola several days after she had made her prayer request.  You know what was in it? At least several dozen miniature unicorns, given to her by a great aunt.  It seems her granddaughter no longer played with them.  


There are so many lessons that could be drawn from these two situations.  In both cases, God answered prayer, just at different times.  The keys were found, immediately.  The unicorns were delivered a little later.  He provides the necessities and he give us things to delight in. 


Many may chalk this up to coincidence.  For those of us who know the Lord, we know otherwise.  Above all, when the seeds of doubt try to take root in my prayer life, all I need to do is reflect on the prayers of these precious little children.  





My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and I will look up. (Psalms 5:3, KJV)




Friday, October 2, 2015

When Time Collided in the Sky

                      



There I was, all bundled up in a lawn chair in my front yard, waiting for the lunar eclipse to take place.  Everyone else I’d been in contact with reported rain and clouds.  There were clouds, but they were intermittent.  I could only hope for the best, as well as wishing my hubby would come out and join me.  “Too many mosquitoes,” was his claim.


I had no idea where my tripod was.  I’m sure it was probably in one of the storage containers from our move.  All I could do was set my camera on a pallet of cement blocks that were meant for the addition on our house.  The pallet was at slight angle, so I had to prop a towel underneath my camera to keep it level.  The only light I had was from my cell phone.

Once the clouds cleared, it seemed like forever for the eclipse to begin.  In the meantime, I  amused myself with Panda Pop. 

When my eyes got tired of the white light on my cell phone, I rested them back on the moon. This probably went on for a good thirty minutes.  

Right about then, my hubby came out to sit with me.  He was bundled to the max, even though not one mosquito had been reported the whole time I had been sitting there. 

 I’ll admit, I was a bit concerned about any decent pictures.  All I had was a 200mm zoom, and if you know anything about lenses, that’s pretty weak.  On top of that, I was shooting RAW for the first time.  

“Set it to Manual.  See what happens,” messaged my sister on Facebook, earlier.  I didn’t want to admit I had never done that.  When one of the girls in my photography group mentioned the same thing, I thought, “I was doomed.”  Don’t ask why I didn’t say anything at the time.  I really don’t know.

Thank goodness, a writer friend posted a link to an article about taking photos of the eclipse by shooting RAW.  I was so thankful.  It gave me enough time to understand what I needed to do.  It made me laugh because I finally learned what the little black dial and the AV button was for on my camera.

What I couldn’t figure out was where to find the shutter settings.  So, there I was, turning that little black dial on the front of my camera, while holding down the AV button, snapping away at the moon.  Obviously, I felt like I was driving blind.  All of a sudden, I saw them.  Inside the viewfinder.  I felt so stupid.  



Finally, the shadow began to slowly move across the face of the moon.  At the same time, we let our eyes wander to other parts of the sky, trying to make out the constellations.  

We began talking about our own childhood and how our parents would point out the constellations.  “Is that the Little Dipper?” my husband asked. I was certain it wasn't.  How I wished our own grandchildren could have been with us that night. 

I was pretty pleased with my photos, even with a weaker lens.  I learned about using another aspect of my camera.  

Most of all, I loved how the past, the present, and the future, all came together at that time for me.