The Joys of Quirkiness

After a terrific night of sleep, I wake up to this view and 43 degrees…

Lucy is at her post, supervising all of my morning routines…

The house we rented is lovely, although not without its quirks. But a lake house without a level of quirkiness is not a lake house at all. For starters, we couldn’t find the carafe for the coffee maker. When we finally did, we discovered that it had a huge crack in it. The prospect of having no coffee this morning was too horrible to contemplate so I texted the indomitable Tif Ford at On The Water in Maine last night around 6-ish explaining our crisis. Within an hour the owner of the house, (a big league quirk in her own right), shows up at the house with a brand new Perculator… 

This was the coffee-maker of choice for my parents not to mention millions of Americans before Mr. Coffee came along. As I write this I am enjoying my first cup of coffee from a percolator in probably 30 years. Frankly, its not bad at all, although it will take a few pots before I figure out how to get the right brew strength. There are other options here..a French Press and another single cup thing that also looks French somehow. Hard pass. 

Beside the coffee kerfuffle, there’s the case of the wall clock that bellows out a different bird song at the top of every hour…

My Mom had one of these and it was the subject of much trash talk back in the day. I would harass Mom about it nearly every time I was over at the house. Of course, Mom’s version of the birdsong clock was defective. The owl, woodpecker and eagle didn’t work, and all the others sounded garbled and grotesque, like a recording of Helter Skelter played backward at the wrong speed. Oh the fun I had giving Mom grief over that clock. Anyway, this one works perfectly, which is even worse than a defective one. Last night we are all sitting on the sofa busy with nothing…

…when the screeching song of the Purple Martin starts bouncing off the walls! What in the Sam Hill?? Oh, its just the clock!!

Finally, there’s the matter of the haunted ceiling fan…

Aside from the obvious issue of it being the subject of many side-eyes from Lucy, our girl having a long and troubled relationship with the appliance, this particular model seems to cut on and off of its own accord, independent of human instruction. Everyone remembers it NOT being on when we arrived at the cabin, but while we were eating dinner we all noticed that it was on. As day follows night, the women in the house complained about the draft it was causing and asked Ron to turn it off. Thus began an hour long search for a switch that would perform this simple task. Turns out there was a remote control in one of the bedrooms that had been employed to operate the bedroom ceiling fan. But for reasons that are unexplainable whenever it was used in the bedroom, it had the opposite effect on the one in the living room. Quirky.

Lucky for us, Lucy has made her peace with the overhead menace…

This morning we are heading into Camden for the Harbor festival/book and craft show. Awesome pictures are sure to follow.

Travel, Day One

Rolled out of Short Pump at 6:45. First five hours went very well, with only moderate traffic. Since we have Lucy with us, we can’t stop at a fast food joint to eat. Instead we look for a rest area. We found the perfect one at the Pennsylvania Welcome Center in Interstate 81. Lucy was perfectly well behaved. The facility was immaculate. However, I was inappropriately dressed, my shorts and thin t-shirt ill-equipped for overcast skies and 53 degrees. Pam could not resist snapping the following photograph:

The second five hours was going quite well until the minute we crossed the Connecticut line. Getting through the Bury’s is always tough, but it was only 2:30 in the afternoon, most emphatically not rush hour. But alas, it made no difference. The 40 miles or so that is required to get from Danbury through Waterbury, took forever. By the time we pulled into our hotel just east of Hartford in the suburb of Manchester, we had been on the road for exactly ten hours, having travelled 582 miles. This only leaves us a measly 4 and a half hour trip tomorrow.

Upon our arrival at our Hotel, Lucy was ecstatic, and insisted on a bout of romp-on-the-big-bed-fun…

I plan on going for a three mile treadmill run in the morning, then hitting the road by 8:00. When we arrive in Camden the first order of business will be buying a fishing pole…since I left both of mine in my garage!! Oh, I’ve got all my gear, all the lures, a brand new reel etc…but no fishing poles. But, if you think that’s bad, one year on a summer trip Pam forgot to pack her bathing suits. So, I suppose it runs in the family. Lucy never forgets anything.

Once More

Today will be a chaotic and busy one. It always is. That’s because in 24 hours we will once again be leaving for Maine. This time only for two weeks and we are bringing my sister Paula and her husband Ron along to celebrate her retirement from 45 years as an educator. We will also be bringing Lucy along to supervise, a job she takes quite seriously. Originally we had planned on leaving Saturday, but then Hurricane Ian happened. Having once before driven to Maine during a hurricane, we swore that would not happen again. So we will leave Friday and get ahead of it. The ten day weather forecast for Maine calls for very little rain with high temperatures between 58-63 with low temperatures between 36-45. To make the trip even more exciting, we have an appointment next Tuesday to view a lake house that has promise. 

For the next two weeks we are staying in a different cabin on a different lake. It will be our first time on Lermond Pond. The name of the cabin is Our Song.

Lucy got a bath yesterday and knows full well what is coming. She could not be happier. We go to Maine in the summer to escape the heat and humidity and for long lazy days at the lake. In the Fall we go back for the leaves, the chilly nights and…long lazy days at the lake. For Lucy its all the same—she gets to go swimming and fishing with Mom and Dad and that’s all she cares about.

We tend to savor the fall trip because of the finality of it. During the summer, as great as that is, we all know that the fall trip is coming. The fall trip means that our time in Maine is coming to a close for 9 long months. So, we savor every minute.

It will be fun to explore a new lake. All of them are unique. I’m told that the fishing is excellent on Lermond. One great thing about this particular lake is that its only 17 minutes from Camden! Here’s a map of the place, with a red dot where the cabin sits…

As always, will keep all of you posted with pictures and tall tales of our adventures.

Doing My Homework

So, if you attend Hope Church or watch the livestream you will understand what follows. If not, hopefully it will still be meaningful and encouraging. For the past two Sunday’s our Pastor, David Dwight, has us examining the longings of the soul. As sermons go, these past two have gotten pretty thick into the theological weeds, but sometimes that’s exactly what I need. Not all the time, but sometimes. Anyway, this past Sunday he was talking about why humans are so prone to worry, why we are so anxious about everything. After examining some of the reasons for our perpetual angst, he read the following verse from the 4th chapter of Philippians and offered it to us as a possible remedy…

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable— if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things.”

I was never great at doing my homework back in the day. There was always much more fun alternatives for my time back then. As a fully grown man I’m not much better at homework. But for some reason last night I sat down in my library, took out a yellow pad and listed all the highlighted words from the above verse down the left side of the page. Then I cleared all the frustrations and resentments of the day out of my head as best I could. Then I sat out to actually do what the Apostle Paul asked us to do…I started to think about these eight things. Whatever popped in my head I wrote down on the right side of the page. Here’s what it looked at after thirty minutes or so…

True…..The reliable laws of physics, a reminder of a reliable creator.

Noble…The soldier who throws himself on a live grenade to save his platoon.

Just…..Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird.

Pure….The devotion and loyalty of a dog.

Lovely..The window boxes full of flowers that adorn every business on the streets of Camden, Maine.

Admirable…The homeless man who found a wallet with $600 inside, then tracked down the owner and returned it.

Excellent…Ted Williams’ 1941 season.

Praiseworthy…The steadfast, undying love of Jesus.

This morning, my list was different in a couple places. The entire exercise has been a huge encouragement to me because it has reminded me just how many things in my life qualify to be included on this list. It has calmed my spirit, eased my anxiety a little. I hope this doesn’t end up being one of those things that works so well I stop doing it! I’m kinda famous for that.

Give this a try tonight or first thing in the morning.

Pondering Lewis Before Dawn

I’ve found that when you’re up at 4:30 in the morning, strange thoughts come to mind. Like…when you lose a job at the Fire Department, do you get fired or do you just get put out? How about this…have you ever wondered what Mount Rushmore looked like before it was carved? Would the natural beauty be described as…Unpresidented? Or, suppose your wife sent you all over town looking for her favorite paper towels? Would that make you a bounty-hunter?

Yes, being up at this hour isn’t easy. On the other hand you get to hear bad news before any of your friends. I suppose there’s something to be said for being the early bird. At least its quiet. You have plenty of time to pray for people going through rough times. I’ve never been good at the whole pray without ceasing thing. I can’t do anything without ceasing. But prayer comes easy at four in the morning. Plus, when you’re occupied with intercession for others, you forget about your own crap, at least for fifteen minutes, and that’s considerably better than nothing.

A couple of days ago at a similarly ridiculous hour of the morning I ran across the famous C.S. Lewis quote:

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

It has been ping-ponging around in my head ever since. Part of it rings true to me. There has always been within me that great unscratched itch, an unexplained longing for something, I know not what. But the other part of Mr. Lewis’ quote is off-putting. I don’t want to think of myself as someone “not of this world.” I kinda like this world. It’s my home. Being uncomfortable as an Earthling is seriously problematic. It’s where we live and have our being. It would seem to me that we need to make the best of it! But, there’s no denying that Lewis is on to something here. If you’ve read any of his work you know that C.S. Lewis is always on to something. The man always is on the short list of people from history who I would love to have dinner with. Speaking of which, here’s my top ten in no particular order:

1. Thomas Jefferson

2. Alexander the Great

3. C.S. Lewis

4. Winston Churchill

5. Wolfgang A. Mozart 

6. Queen Elizabeth I

7. Satchel Paige

8. The Apostle Paul

9. General George Patton

10. Jimmy Stewart

Enough of this rambling nonsense. It’s now time to get cracking. At 4:00 this afternoon the stock market will shut down for 65 hours, and I will be able to breathe a little.

Consider the Lilies

This has been a week. Work pressures have been rising to a boil. Yesterday I had my first migraine in probably six or seven years. Last night I hardly slept. All week I’ve been pondering something my Pastor said in his message Sunday. Then today, we had the Federal Reserve Chairman Show which whipsawed the market while I was on the road between turning down money from a client and a doctor’s appointment. Like I said, its been a week.

So I walk out onto the patio late this afternoon amidst all of the tumult that life has become these past few days and am astonished by this…

Don’t ask he what kind of flower it is. All I know is that it is part of one of those overpriced plant and flower arrangements they sell at Strange’s. I paid a ridiculous amount of money for it back in April or May to Pam’s great delight, then sat it out on the patio and neglected it all summer. While we were in Maine, the kids next door were charged with watering it along with everything else we wanted to keep alive while we were away. Despite our indifferent care, it thrives still in mid September. This particular bloom is nearly five feet high, and caught my eye as I walked down the deck steps. I took a closer look, examining all the rich detail of the thing, and was mesmerized by the intricacy, the vibrant, glowing color and the symmetric artistry. All the while, life has been speeding by, buffeting us from all sides, but out in my back yard, this lonely plant has not been deterred from becoming what it was created to be…a work of art. It matters not if we gaze upon it, whether or not we even acknowledge it doesn’t have the slightest effect. This flower has been out here night and day, under blue skies and darkest night, withstanding rain, hail, drought and neglect. And it has done it all just so this thing of astonishing beauty would spring forth and catch the eye of a besieged 64 year old man feeling sorry for himself. I stood there for several minutes, then snapped this photograph to remind myself of the moment. As I did a verse from one of the Gospels writers came to mind, the words of Jesus:

…Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither labor nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all of his glory clothed himself like one of these. Now, if God so clothes the grass of the field which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will he clothe you? Oh you of little faith…

Get Over Yourselves!

Is this even real? Never in my entire life have so many obsessed so much over something so moronic as the British Royal family, especially the two biggest grifters in history—Harry and Meghan. Of course, I suppose I should be grateful. At least somebody finally managed to knock Donald Trump off the front pages.