Sending and Receiving Gifts

Each year we join many others at Woolwich Wiscasset Baptist Church and fill a couple shoe boxes with small gifts to be sent overseas and distributed by Operation Christmas Child to needy children during the Christmas season. Nolan, Atira and I went on Saturday night to pick out the items we would put in the boxes. Nolan chose for the boy's box and Atira for the girl's. Atira also enclosed a letter in hers in which she hoped that the recipient would enjoy all the "cool and girly stuff". This year we donated our shipping cost online which allows us to track exactly where in the world our boxes end up. I love to imagine the joy that this small box of goodies will bring to one little life.



It is usually much more enjoyable to give than receive. One exception to this would be receiving the gift of children.
Jubal's 16th birthday coincided with the day I had planned to drop off our shoeboxes at the Nazarene church on Lisbon Falls. This worked out very well because the corner store, on 196, specializing in Moxie paraphernalia, was only a couple miles a way. After dropping the boxes off, The kids and I managed to snag a Moxie tie, t-shirt and glass mug for Jubal's celebration. At home there was a phone call from the Australian grandparents (during which he managed to eat supper and play living room soccer with Atira and Tell).



Then Grandad and Mimi to arrived with cake to round out Jubal's sixteenth birthday quite nicely.






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Wired

Just a quote from my friend Butch Brown as his wife Liz and I discussed the type of information that is revealed as we women chat with one another at a women's retreat.
Butch: "You'd never find any of these kind of conversations going on at a Men's Retreat."
Liz: "That's just how we're wired"
Butch: "I know that, it's a short circuit."

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Treehouse Tradition

When Jubal was much smaller, his birthday parties were big events with about fifteen little boys running around our house and yard. As he got older, he whittled his celebration down to include only Nate Fisher, Matt Brown and James Morrill. When Jim's dad built the treehouse, it became tradition for the boys to spend the night up there, despite the fact that Jubal's birthday falls in the middle of November. Last night, the mercury dipped to about 30•F but that's no problem for Maine-bred boys with warm sleeping bags. Some years have had more excitement than others. I recall the year I made a 2am call to the police because the boys thought for sure they had seen a stabbing at the neighbor's house from their treetop vantage point. This year there was a bit of laughter when, as the boys headed out the door, I called out, "If you guys see anyone murdered tonight, just come in and let me know!" I prefer a bit less excitement, like the year the boys made their own pizzas and the oven caught fire. I handled it quite calmly and extinguished the flames as I flung out the contents of the orange Arm and Hammer box. The only casualty was poor Matthew Brown's pizza. Baking soda is apparently not an appetizing pizza topping. There was no pizza this year as all of us, minus James, had attended the Coastal Christian Soccer Banquet that evening. I did, however send them up with some Moxie Chocolate cake to go along with their array of candy and soda..


Each year I have made the bleary-eyed crew pancakes as they emerge from their chilly, semi-sleepless night. Tell was quite happy to accept the mission, this morning, of climbing the ladder and informing the boys that breakfast would soon be on the table.


As I watched him ascend, it struck me, how quickly time has passed since Jubal was Tell's age and that these teenage boys only have a few more of these treehouse birthdays left and so I will enjoy the moments and memories.



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Math in the Morning

On a normal Saturday I would refrain from exiting the bed until at least 7 o'clock. Jubal and Nolan attended the WOL SuperBowl however, which required a 6:15 pickup after their night of Portland Pirates hockey, bowling, rollerskating and general rowdiness. The early pickup, in turn, required coffee so I found myself at the Dunkin' Donuts drive through window. My caramel swirl hot latte came to $2.77 and I confidently passed the server two dollar bills and three quarters. In my brain, I expected change; this is how math works in the morning. With a slightly quizzical expression the lady held the money in her hand for a moment. "OK, $2.75?" the fog lifted from my brain as I realized my mistake. Laughing, I reached for two more pennies on the dash and told her, "This is why I need the coffee!". We won't mention that in reality, with my math skills, I could just as easily have made the same mistake in the middle of the day.


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Eat and Runny Pie

I tried to make a pie for the Men's night at church today. I followed the recipe. I'm not sure what happened. It looked more like chocolate pudding than chocolate pie. We all have our talents. Baking is clearly not one of mine and I'm OK with that.
So when you can't cook well, make sure you find places to eat where they do! ....like the Olive Garden. The three younger kids and I had a nice evening there with Anthony, Laura and the kids. They're here for their lightning fast October visit to attend the annual Pig Roast of Laura's Grampy Hammond. Mom, Dad and Alex Burgoin ( who's flying out with Dad to MO on Monday) joined us. Jubal and Jim had to decide between the already planned Men's night, complete with steak and plenty of pie, or seeing family that you'll see at Thanksgiving anyway. I suspected that Jim would choose the pie. I was right. And finally, if Alex and Dad are in the house, the night is likely to end up in a game of Catan. It did. Jubal won.


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Freezing In Fryeburg

In recent years we've been spoiled by the mild temperatures during our annual excursion to the Fryeburg Fair... not so this trip! Wednesday's weather was reminiscent of some of the early years when our family would be sure to break out the winter gear once the warmth of the sun was swallowed up below the horizon of the Western Maine mountains.


Touring the livestock barns was saved for later in the evening when we could enjoy the natural heat emissions produced by the animal population.

Somehow we missed the goats and hogs buildings, however.. How did that happen? I love the goats!

The dip toward 40•F in the mercury prompted us to leave a couple hours earlier than usual but did not diminish our enjoyment. I am fairly certain, however, that Dad would have preferred for Mom to have told him at the beginning of the night, that she had packed his hat and gloves, rather than 20 minutes before we left the fairgrounds.



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October Rain

Rain on Thursday canceled Jubal's soccer game. Rain on Saturday canceled Atira's soccer game. On Sunday evening the rain followed us to the shores of Lake Winnepesaukee in NH for the wedding of my cousin Jessie, to Tyler Moul. Atira, who appreciates the beauty of a wedding, came with us. Relying on my memory, because my invitation was lost in the vortex months ago, I thought that the ceremony began at 5:00. I was aided in this belief by a text from my cousin Greg, who told us that the wedding was at 5:00. We left with 45 minutes to spare but promptly encountered a clogged 295 right below the Brunswick exit. That, combined with Jim's generally slow driving, the rain factor and a bathroom break, whittled away our extra time and we arrived thinking that the wedding would be starting in 5 minutes. I was relieved to see that Papa and BauBau were only just arriving with Uncle Frank, Aunt Cheryl and Uncle John. As it turns out, the ceremony wasn't until 5:30. Knowing that we are chronically tardy, Greg had taken the liberty of lying to us, ensuring our timely arrival. The rain did nothing to dampen the spirit of the lovely wedding. I thought, instead, that it was an appropriate symbol of the spiritual refreshing and renewal that took place a couple years ago in Jessie's life, which brought her back to the Lord and eventually to this godly man.


At this moment, I hear that the rain that carried us into October has subsided, making way for a crisp, autumn day.

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