Two Little Turkeys

We enjoyed wonderful weather today--Foggy in the morning, clearing to cool yet sunny perfection. "Art" and "Carina" came over and brought the grandkids. We had a semi-quiet day. First, the little ones recited their turkey poems. Of course I had to film them for posterity (or embarrassing teen age moments). Then we settled into a quiet after spaghetti lunch stupor. Zaya kept sending his father on imaginary deep sea exploration assignments via an imaginary laptop and a noisy "you've got mail" icon. Finally, Art felt he had fulfilled his last imaginary quest for the afternoon and let his "laptop" run out of power. "Whoosh", Zaya whipped up an imaginary power cord to re-energize it. After a while the grandkids discovered that it was nice enough to play outside...and there were leaf piles. . . fodder for fantastic leaf storms. I thought I'd see Mim complain about the leaves in the face scenario, but she smiled bravely through it all.

Grandparents' Day

I took a couple of hours off from my own school to visit my grandchildren at theirs.
The children were all wide eyes and excitement, but on their best behavior--sitting primly around the circular table, eyes on the teacher in flashes, but filled with secret glances at all the grandparents, who had turned out in droves to support the little tykes. My grandchildren had both grandmas and both grandpas there. After an opening time, the grandfathers went with Zaya while the grandmas followed Mim. When I sat down beside her, in the grandma chair, she whispered: "Grandma, how do you like my new school shirt. It's unusually long." It is at that.

After a few activities, we met in the dining hall and ate a fine lunch together.

Thanks, Moms and Dads. Thanks for providing such a great opportunity for us to interact with our grandchildren and their daily activity.

November Gray

After all the brilliant colors of fall have faded, grayness conquers the sky.

Still beneath are some rich browns and reds: cotton, milo, and, every now and then, a bright green field of winter wheat.




I cut through the countryside today, just for a close-up look at the windmills, the crumbling farm houses, and the straight gravel road.

It follows fence posts down to the draw, then swerves to cross the bridge.
"There's nothing prettier than black cows on a green field with white windmills in the background", say the farmers around here, "unless it's black oil and a long buried pipeline." You've gotta love 'em.

November Colors

In the mornings, it's gone gray--skies overcast and valleys misted. We watch for this friendly orange flame waving from the oil rig. It has become a landmark on our way to school.


Our leaves are almost all on the ground now. This, the second harvest under the sycamores, still reflects an afternoon sun-- brilliantly.

These are the gold reds.
Now for green blue.








As I left school today this was
behind me, overcoming the grain elevator--a swarm of incoming cold blue swirls.

Operation Christmas Child

My little students finished packing their box today in children's church. We decided to send it to a boy, aged 4-9. After we packed it, several of the children prayed that it would arrive safely and be a joy for that little boy. Here they are, praying for their box.

Wherever you are in the world, little boy--in a refugee camp, a slum or a flooded pasture--we want you to know that we are sorry you live in such awful circumstances, and that we want to help you, and bring the light of God's love into your life. Amen.