Reba

Reba was a yellow lab. She was our third dog. I always felt that Reba didn't appreciate us. She seemed to have an air of defiance that often made me wonder about her.

One freezing cold winter night, I heard her. Reba was somewhere out in the woods and she wouldn't quit barking. Finally, I asked Gary to check it out. Soon, he was back in the house shouting for us to come. Apparently, Reba was caught in the icy river, her front paws up on a sheet of ice, while her back paws were trying to gain leverage on the river bottom. And her cries were becoming fainter and fainter.

She was out of our reach, so Gary dragged our canoe down the snowy hill and used it as a "pier". I held one end to steady it while Gary and Leslie got in to reach for Reba at the other end. Megan held a flashlight beam on her so we could see and Jami anxiously waited on the bank with blankets. Somehow, they were able to pull a shivering Reba into the canoe and back to safety.

We trudged into the house, exhausted and cold. The girls were all emotionally drained, and our traumatized pet was allowed to sleep in the utility room that night. The next day she was as good as new and I do believe she had more respect for us than she had before. I guess coming face to face with mortality can give you a fresh new outlook on life, even if you are a dog.

It weren't me.

Speaking of Gatlinburg (see last post), I am reminded of the time we were there vacationing with friends. We were planning to drive around Cade's Cove, a one way 8 mile drive around a beautiful meadow nestled in the Smokey mountains. This drive can take a long time during the autumn season because of all the tourists. In fact, you could probably get through it faster by jogging.

Because we knew we might be in the car for awhile, we decided to stop at a tourist area and use the restrooms. As is typical, there was a long line waiting to use the women's restrooms. Finally it was my turn. A woman came out of a stall and, seeing that I would be using the one she came out of, said in her Tennessee drawl,

"It ain't perty in there, but I just want you to know it weren't me!"

A Smokey Tale

Gatlinburg, Tennessee, at the base of the Smokey Mountains, has been one of our favorite autumn vacation spots for years. We have hiked many trails. One of the tougher ones is called the Chimney Tops. I consider it tougher simply because the incline gets pretty steep for a long time before it levels out. And when you think you are at the top, there are these huge, intimidating boulders (the Chimneys) that you have to climb up on in order reach the summit. But if you make it, the view is glorious, especially when the trees are at their peak of color. And the satisfaction you feel only enhances the experience.

My friend’s entire family has also spent time in Gatlinburg for their annual summer get-together. It just so happens that my daughter married into this wonderful family.

On one such trip, on one such climb up to the Chimneys, Mark was telling the others about the first time he ever climbed this trail,

“We had finally reached the big boulder and were wondering how to get  up onto the top so we could take in the view. There was nothing to grab onto and it was pretty scary. So we just sat there to see which one of us would muster the courage to be the first one up.  While we were sitting there, this hiker comes along, all by himself, with ear phones on, and without breaking stride, he just walks up the rock!! He didn’t even hesitate! We couldn’t believe it! We felt like wimps!”

My daughter said, “That’s amazing! That is the same thing that happened to my dad when he climbed the Chimneys the first time!!”

Mark suddenly got a bewildered look on his face. Then he started to laugh and he said, “Jami, it DID happen to your dad. Not to me! I think your dad told me the story so vividly that I thought it happened to me!”

What a hoot! They laughed all the way down the mountain.

Happy Birthday, Mom (and Abe)

Today is my mom's 84th birthday. Did you know she was named after Abraham Lincoln? A looooong time after!

One of the remarkable things about my mom is that when she was 40, and her youngest of 4 children was 11 years old (that was me), she opened up a dress shop in our small home town. She had no experience. An owner of an empty store approached my dad with the idea. Mom had no clue how to run a dress shop but she plunged in with Dad's blessing and her whole life changed. She even went to Chicago alone on her first buying trip. I think that was pretty courageous coming from a small town with a population of 800.

Back in 1968, she didn't have to compete with Walmart or Meijer. In fact, malls were just beginning to be built. She ran a successful business for 25 years, and our small town benefitted from it. I also benefitted from it. I always had my pick of the new arrivals. Her shop also paid college expenses for my brother and me.

Working at the shop taught me alot about fashion, color coordination, customer service, and retail in general. On slow days (and there were some very boring days) I read a lot of books. But, oh how that adrenaline kicked in on busy days. I think I was made for retail.

Every night at the supper table, Dad would ask Mom the same question. "How did you do?" And she would tell him how much the shop brought in that day. And usually a story followed about one of the customers that came in. She met a lot of people from neighboring towns who are still her friends today. Many years after she closed her doors for the final time, people would still tell her how much they missed her shop.

Thanks, Mom, for having the courage to step out of your comfort zone and start a new adventure. I love you! And have a happy birthday!

Bill's Story

Bill was a college student back in the 70s. Coming from a family with 9 siblings, he worked hard to pay his way through college. One late Sunday night, as he drove from his hometown back to school, he decided to stop at a convenient store for a snack. He had a few cents in his pocket and thought that would surely buy him something.


Smiling at the clerk, he asked how much 2 doughnuts cost.


“25 cents each, 53 cents with tax., “ the clerk replied.


Bill pulled out all the money he had, and counted. It totaled 52 cents. “Would you let me have them for 52 cents?”


“No” came the unkind reply.

"But I only have 52 cents." Bill said.

"Too bad. With tax they cost 53 cents."


Disappointed at the clerk’s lack of generosity, Bill said, “Well… then, I guess I’ll just have one.” With that, the clerk bagged one doughnut, stuck it on the counter, and said, “That will be 26 cents.” As Bill put the money on the counter, he suddenly realized he still had 26 cents left in his hand. HA! Feeling very smug, he said, “I think I will have another one, please.”


Glaring at Bill, the clerk had no choice but to bag another doughnut and accept the final 26 cents.


Somewhere that night, Bill was sure he heard angels singing. This day had to be one of the top ten best days of his life. And it made coming back for another week of school much easier.

It's the thought that counts???

When we were first married, Gary did not understand the concept that sometimes wives just need a listening ear, not necessarily a solution. And, as a newlywed, I was insecure about my body, wondering if Gary would be happier if I were thinner. So I often complained about the size of my thighs. Needless to say, Gary found a solution.


He was so excited one day as he presented me a package. When I opened it, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to hit him or to… really hit him! Inside was a pair of thick, clear plastic shorts that Gary found in an advertisement in the Sunday paper inserts. You were supposed to put these shorts on and run in place and they were guaranteed to knock inches off your hips and thighs…..or your money back! But here is the kicker…you had to hook it up to the hose of a vacuum sweeper and turn it on while you jog in place. It was supposed to suck out the sweat!


As I look back, I can’t believe I actually tried it. It must have been the newlywed in me. Anyway, Gary got his money back, and I learned that our love was not based on how much I weighed.


Oh, and his black eye healed over time.

Cause my dad, my dad is the greatest dad around!

We spent several summer vacations in Michigan when our three daughters were small. That meant a lot of time on the road. I appreciated the many Christian resources available to us that I did not have as a child, such as stories on cassette and sing-a-longs, all sharing values that we felt were important lessons for our children. And just as important on long trips, they were entertaining, helping time to pass more quickly.


One occasion sticks out in my mind while traveling in northern Michigan. I put in a cassette that Gary had never heard before. As it started playing, the girls and I enthusiastically sang along with it. Gary looked at me with a grin on his face when he heard us singing, “My dad’s the greatest guy, and my dad’s the strongest guy, and my dad’s the funnest guy of any guy around” The lyrics included phrases like, “he plays ball with me, throws me in the air, flies a kite, gives me bubble gum, etc.” By the end of the song Gary was glowing with pride…that is, until we heard the sweet voice of 4 year old Jami coming from the rear of the van saying, “I wish that was my dad!”