The view from our balcony …

It all started more than a month ago, when my parents returned from their travels on the east coast. They’d been away for three weeks, and enjoyed time with my brother and sister and their respective families. Now they were ready for some time with our children.

“When can we have the kids?” they asked us, eagerly. Although they often host our children out at the Duckabush, my parents always seem to be willing to help out. It is a great blessing to have grandparents who enjoy their grandchildren and are so solicitous for our well-being as parents and as a married couple.

My Valentine

“We’d really like to send the two of you to Leavenworth,” they told us. “Can we make the arrangements?” We checked our calendars and found we were free on the weekend that spanned Valentine’s Day and President’s Day. And so it was, that we found ourselves driving three hours into the Cascade mountains on a dark and drizzly Friday evening. Arriving just before 8 pm, we were graciously greeted by the Randy and Renee, the host and hostess of this beautiful Bed & Breakfast, the Abendblume. Perched on the slope just outside the town of Leavenworth, the Abendblume boasts seven suites in a luxurious Bavarian chalet-style building.

The Abendblume

The common areas are a feast for the eyes, tastefully decorated in winter and Valentine’s Day themes. We spent much of the weekend alternating between our sumptuous suite and the piano room, where comfortable chairs and couches faced a large fire, blazing and crackling.

Most of the time, we had this room to ourselves, which was delightful.

Our suite was called the Schneewittchen (aka the Snow White suite).

Each morning, Renee served breakfast in the dining room, with delectable Aebleskivers one morning, Eggs Caprice and Almond Puffs another. Fresh fruit, coffee, fresh-baked bread — these breakfasts made it worthwhile, to claw my way up from the embrace of the soft bed and down comforter, each morning. The hostess helped me to fill a delectable tray of goodies to bring back up to our suite, where I was greeted as a hero by a late-sleeping Kathy.

Aebelskivers are the round muffin-like things with powdered sugar in the cast-iron pan.

During the day, Leavenworth boasts a variety of shops and restaurants, all decorated in a traditional German motif. Even the Subway and Bank of America sported custom lettering on their signage. We shopped and strolled and dined and talked to our hearts’ content. In the evenings, dessert was served in the dining room from 8 - 10 pm; it was very pleasant to have a reason to leave our room, and to mingle with the other guests.

On Saturday afternoon, we had instructions to report to Mountain Springs Lodge, some 20 miles further into the mountains. “Dress warmly and bring an appetite,” the cryptic instructions read. The brochure that accompanied the directions featured a 2-hour snowmobile ride by moonlight — neither of us had ever been snowmobiling before, and Kathy was somewhat apprehensive. “Do you think your folks would send us snowmobiling?” she asked me.

I wasn’t sure. My parents can be unpredictable, sometimes — but snowmobiling didn’t really seem their style. Arriving at the Lodge, we presented ourselves to the snowmobiling concierge. “No, I don’t have a reservation for you,” the girl told us, as burly men struggled into snow-suits behind us. “Maybe you are scheduled for the sleigh ride?”

This was the image from the brochure, featuring the ‘Starlight Express’.

Sure enough, when they checked, they had a reservation for us on the sleigh ride — we were both rather relieved. I stopped imagining scenarios in which the two of us plunged off a precipice, struggling vainly with the controls of our snowmobiles.

We enjoyed a ride through the woods on a large sleigh, pulled by two very powerful draft horses, who didn’t seem to mind that the snow in the pasture was mainly slush. Following the course of a small stream, the horses began to trot, and I found myself back in the days of Little House on the Prairie, complete with blankets to keep us warm. About two thirds of the way through the ride, we dismounted for a hot apple cider break, and to stand around a fire just outside an old barn.

Arriving back at the lodge, we found a delectable salmon and prime rib buffet spread before us. They settled us at an intimate table tucked away behind a huge stone fireplace, truly a Valentine’s Day experience with all the trimmings, down to the chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert.

Of course, there was always dessert back at the Abendblume, as well …

It was a glorious 72-hour vacation, very reminiscent of our honeymoon, a time when we could enjoy each other without distraction and wallow in luxury. Even now, as I finish writing this blog post several weeks later, a smile comes to my face and a deep sense of rest and peace lingers in my heart.

Not Kathy’s actual hairstyle — but we did stop off at the Hat Shop.

When we returned home, we discovered that the sleigh ride and dinner had been a gift to us from our children, which they paid for in work for Grandma and Grandpa. It commemorated the 50th anniversary of my Mom and Dad’s first date. How typical of my parents, that they would choose to celebrate by giving us such a memorable experience!

A very memorable weekend …

My mind turns to what I would consider my first ‘date’ with Kathy (we had a somewhat unconventional courtship, involving a lot of group activities and ‘casual’ time before we ever ‘went out’ on a date). For us, it was coffee and some kind of pastry at Duncan Donuts (I’ve always been a big spender on first dates). Maybe in 30 years I’ll be sending my children and their spouses off on a Valentine’s Day Experience with All the Trimmings.

David and Sarah spent some time last week washing the new van.

Life is so full and rich these days, I’m overwhelmed by the many details, activities, and challenges. Tim and I are continually striving to grow in our marriage and be wise in our parenting. The responsibilities of running a busy household and homeschooling five children keep me humble and on my knees.

Sarah and I got matching aprons for Valentine’s Day.

I find myself struggling to balance the various disciplines - spiritual, physical, mental, etc. When I excel in one area, I fail in another. It is interesting, this life here on earth. We long for perfection, rest and joy, but instead are mired in imperfection, unease, and worry.

Praise God for His Word and the promise that His mercies are new every morning.

Books and board games are favorite gifts (to give and receive) in our house.

We had a fun Valentine’s Day. Tim and I love to celebrate as a family and cherish the big and small moments with the children. This year we ended up with some extra Christmas gifts (still working on the whole Christmas/budget concept) and set them aside for Valentine’s Day. We held a family party on the 7th. The blessing (reward?) of working so hard on parenting (and it is HARD WORK) is actually enjoying your children. We truly love to be with our five kids. They are fun, generous, kind, silly, caring and worth every bit of the diligence, effort and attention.

Daniel and Joshua gave David Nerf Swords for his birthday.

David’s birthday was this week. How in the world did my sweet, little boy come to be nine years old?? My goodness, he and Sarah are no longer babies. Can I still call them the “Little Ones?” At least for a little while longer?

Vanilla cake and ice cream sandwich dessert. Yum!

David constantly touches my heart - his reflections on life are unique and precious. We have a tradition of decorating the house in honor of the birthday child. All decorating happens in the wee hours in the night so the birthday boy or girl wakes up to a celebration. This past year the older children have taken on some of the work themselves and surprised me with their creative help.

The night before his birthday (Tim and I had just returned home from a long weekend in Leavenworth and the children from the Duckabush), David came up to me and quietly asked, “Would it be rude to ask for birthday decorations? I was just wondering.” Ha! I shhhhhed him and said, “Absolutely, no talk of decorations! Don’t even mention it.”

As the years have passed, I’ve often wondered if the children still care about those silly streamers, balloons and birthday signs. The older ones, in particular, might be too “grown up” and “mature” for such trivial things. It’s certainly no longer a dramatic surprise - it’s a tradition. Ahhhh, but here was a little boy who was still hoping for the wonder of a birthday celebration. How could I resist?

Throughout the days following his birthday, David repeatedly thanked me for the decorations - not the gifts, cake, family outing to the zoo, the decorations. “I just love those birthday decorations, Mommy, it’s why I keep saying thank you. I love to stand and look at them.”

A creative use of birthday plates.

Interesting how a thankful heart brings such delight and joy in response. I can’t help but think how the Lord wants me to be thankful, to thank Him for His wonders, His gifts, His goodness. Does my thankful heart please Him in the same way that David’s cheerful attitude blesses me?

Rachel helped with the birthday cake decorating.

It makes me want to sneak into David’s room, on a random Thursday in the middle of a random month, and hang up signs and streamers.

Maybe I will.

Kathy

Approved Workmen Are Not Ashamed … but maybe some of ‘em aren’t fully Approved, yet?

We’re about half-way through the year, and it has not been easy. While many kids enter into the program whole-heartedly, some are interested only in the games, and endure ‘Verse Time’ and ‘Council Time’ with ill-concealed boredom. And yet, there are moments of tenderness and glory when the gospel message connects with the hearts of the children, some of whose lives are being transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Being an AWANA leader can be pretty challenging.

During ‘Verse Time’ the kids are supposed to recite verses that they’ve memorized during the week, progressing through numbered sections in their workbooks. It is hard for the kids (and, if they’re anything like us, their parents) to remember to work on their books during the week, and so ‘Verse Time’ is sometimes less productive than we would like. In an attempt to motivate the kids, our fearless AWANA commander offered the kids a deal:

“If you finish a book (8 ‘Discoveries’, or chapters of 7 sections each),” he told them, “you will get an opportunity to throw a whipped-cream pie in the face of one of the leaders.”

Thank goodness there were only two cans of whipped cream available.

This deal was received with glee on the part of the kids, but I wasn’t worried. While several of the boys in my group are making good progress in their workbooks, I’ve been subtly suggesting to the boys in my group that Tom, my co-leader, would make a better target for a pie. “After all,” I reminded them, “he sometimes wears a beard, which would be much harder to clean after a good pie-ing.”

Little did I know, that one of my ‘friends’ at our church was hatching a plot against me, using his own children as instruments of evil.

Many people think that this man (we’ll call him Jekyll, after Robert Louis Stevenson’s story) is godly, upright, and worthy of honor. After all, he serves as an elder in our church, leads a small group Bible study, and also holds the position of Treasurer. His children are sweet and well-behaved (or so I always thought), and his wife is a kind and gentle saint. He often teaches classes and serves communion, and is one of the few men in our church who wears a tie.

Not my actual ‘friend’.

Of course, I’ve had the advantage of seeing him operate behind closed doors. A person with my unique insight could suggest that he is a tight-fisted skinflint; a man who snatches cookies out of the mouths of widows and orphans, a man who must be opposed on nearly every major policy decision of the church. In many ways, he might be better likened to the brutal Mr. Hyde.

I barely had time to close my eyes …

I felt a tingling of impending doom, when little Zachary was asked, “Who do you choose as your target, for a pie in the face?”

“I want Mr. Tim,” the six-year-old boldly asserted.

I was stunned. Zachary isn’t even in my group (I am a leader for older boys). I had assumed that he would pick one of his own leaders, or, perhaps the AWANA commander himself. What could possibly motivate him to seek me out for this vicious attack?

The truth was soon revealed: “My Dad will pay him $5 to get you with a pie,” his sister (Angie) confided, hopping up and down in glee.

I remembered a recent debate among the church elders, in which Dr. Jekyll was narrowly defeated. He wanted to install parking meters in the church’s lot, and to drive around in a little cart between services, ticketing those who overstayed their time.

“Those people are wasting valuable parking spaces, chatting it up in the lobby! We’ve got to move ‘em in and move ‘em out!” he shouted, pounding his fist on the table, veins popping out on his flushed face.

Personally, I rather think he wanted to see the sad faces of the children as he towed their parents’ cars away. As I often do, I opposed him in this vile scheme, and now I discovered I was not immune from the consequences of that action.

Dr. Jekyll had put a lot of work into the Powerpoint presentation for the elder board … obviously not a man to thwart lightly.

Little Zachary soon revealed the influence of his father’s character, as I reluctantly filled the pie-pan with whipped cream.

“More whipped cream,” he told me, stone-faced, eyes glittering in unholy anticipation.

My pleas for mercy were ruthlessly ignored as he pressed the pie firmly into my face. Just as his father would twist a knife in my back, Zachary rotated the pie with his wrist to ensure that the cream would go up my nose and into my eyes. After what seemed like hours, he finally released the pie pan so I could gasp for breath.

Maybe I should have taken out my contact lenses … ?

In many ways, this simply underscores the need for an AWANA program in our church. We must always be vigilant against the influence of the world. Venality and corruption among the children of leaders is of particular concern.

Little Zachary (aka “The Tim Slayer”) doesn’t even look sorry …

I fired off an e-mail to my so-called ‘friend’, the next day.

“So, when is the next time you’ll be teaching Sunday School for second, third, seventh, eighth or tenth-graders?” I asked him, innocently.

Coincidentally, those are the ages of my children, who have already expressed their willingness to be bribed, some of them offering two-for-one specials.

Revenge, as they say, is a dessert best served cold.

Tim

Each year our church hosts a Christmas Luncheon for women — a lavish, decorative affair in which women of the church vie with one another to host and decorate the most beautiful holiday table. Fine china is dusted off, elaborate centerpieces are constructed, and more than 250 women flock to our church for this bright spectacle. After the meal and traditional singing of Christmas carols, there is usually a speaker who attempts to inspire the women of our church and their guests with a scriptural message. This year, the Women’s Ministries director asked my wife to be the speaker.

While we were putting away the last of the tables, after everyone had gone home, Becky came up to me. “I am so glad that God used me to ask Kathy to speak,” the Women’s Ministries leader confided gleefully.

I had to agree — Kathy presented her ‘talk’, as she called it, with confidence and clarity, using Romans 12:12 as the core of her message:

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.

Kathy’s parents sent her these beautiful flowers.

My thoughts drift back to that weekend in early October when Kathy ‘got the call’ as we were driving to attend a leadership retreat. Immediately, she asked me my opinion:

“Should I do it? It seems very scary. What if I can’t connect with the women?”

At first, Kathy had many doubts about speaking publicly. Even after we prayed about it for several days, and she had agreed to serve as the speaker, questions continued to bubble up:

• What passage will I speak on?
• What if my hands shake and my voice quavers too much?
• Why would any of these ladies want to listen to me?
• What if this is not a calling from God, but only my own desire to be heard?
• What will I wear?

Admittedly, the last question was perhaps the most difficult for me, as a man, to address.

I valiantly made an attempt. “What did you wear last year?”

Men and women don’t always think the same way, I’ve noticed.

Kathy is a busy person; homeschooling five children, running our household, trying to keep enough food in the house to feed ravenous boys — all these seem to fill her hours. Add in an aggressive prayer and Bible-reading schedule and a discipling relationship, and there isn’t a lot of extra time in the day. Still, she dove in and began studying and preparing her message. We gathered commitments from some of the prayer warriors in our church, to pray regularly for the event. It wasn’t long before Kathy had a passage of scripture that was coming alive to her in a new way. Eventually, she developed the entire message, complete with funny personal anecdotes and effective visual props. She wrote it out, first as an outline, and later filled in all the details.

“How do pastors come up with a new sermon every week,” she asked me one day, shaking her head.

These three boxes were part of the talk - a spiritual makeover.

I was impressed by her passion and energy. I am currently taking a hiatus from teaching my Adult Sunday School class, largely because those two qualities were missing in my teaching. One week she managed to connect with the speaker from the fall Women’s Retreat, whom she felt did an incredible job of challenging and encouraging the ladies of our church. Kathy drove an hour, and spent the better part of an evening with her; praying, sharing and studying. The week before the event, she began rehearsing in our bedroom, using a CD rack as a podium, and a full-length mirror to hone her eye contact skills.

We continued to pray. We remembered these verses in Matthew 10:18-20:

On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.

Although she wasn’t arrested, we still thought the verse would apply. If God wanted Kathy to speak, then God would give her something to say, and would, Himself, cause those words to be effective.

Joshua and Daniel and I had the privilege of serving as waiters for the event, and so (after we bolted down our meal in the kitchen) we were able to watch and listen as Kathy spoke. I was praying furiously, yet somehow still able to listen as she unfolded her ideas and connected with the audience.

It was a great message — simple, practical, spiritual, transparent and personal. The ladies laughed at her jokes and seemed attentive — many of them came up to me afterward and complimented me (presumably because I had the clever foresight to marry Kathy). I am very proud, but even more, I’m delighted to see Jesus glorified and for the gospel to be promoted.

Some things in Kathy’s Hope Box - before the makeover.

When we arrived home, Kathy and I went upstairs and snuggled in our bed to talk about the day. Eventually she wound down, and we assembled the kids to do our daily ‘chapter’ Bible reading, currently with an Advent twist.

“How ’bout milkshakes and a Christmas movie,” I shouted. “Who’s with me?” There was a rush of feet for the door. Life goes on, even when you’re a family of an internationally-acclaimed women’s speaker.

Tim

The day I turned seventeen, I was working at the local Holiday Inn as a bell-boy, where I had served for more than two years. Mostly, I performed the duties of a front desk clerk, but the crafty management paid me $3.25/hour as a bell-boy since I was so young (and looked even younger). At about 9:00 in the evening of my birthday, I found myself dissatisfied with the prospect of working on such a momentous day, and I resolved, forthwith, to resign. Half an hour later, I was unemployed, with more than $2000 in savings and my evenings suddenly free. Four months later, I was penniless, and forced to seek work as a fishmonger’s assistant. But that is another story.

My actual former workplace, no longer a Holiday Inn.

Since then, whenever I enjoy my job, I’m careful to take my birthday off, for fear that history may repeat itself. It would be a shame if I impulsively decided to quit, as a result of being forced to work on my birthday. And so, I found myself home on a Thursday, with the whole day stretching before me, full of promise and opportunity.

In July, we took up geocaching as a hobby, and continue to derive much enjoyment from this pastime. As a family, we’ve located more than 50 caches, and find ourselves ranging further and further afield for new challenges. On my birthday, while Kathy drove Joshua to his JNROTC class, I mobilized the rest of the kids to pack lunches. We piled into the van and got an early (11 am) start, once they returned.

The kids enjoy taking (and leaving) trinkets in some of the larger caches.

I loaded a chain of geocache coordinates into our GPS receiver, each 10-20 minutes apart, with the furthest about 90 minutes from our home, among the foothills of Mount Rainier. Bypassing the first one (there was no easy place to stop on the highway as we hurtled past), we came to the vicinity of the second cache, which we eventually located. It was concealed in a narrow crevice between an electrical utility box and the pole to which it was attached.

“Careful, kids, that’s 220 volts,” I cautioned, standing well back.

Geocaching is not a particularly dangerous sport, but it does take you into some strange places. Joshua found the cache (a micro, about the size of a dry-erase marker) and noted the additional hazard of a bee’s nest, just above the cache.

No bees were harmed in the filming of this adventure.

After signing the log, I graciously allowed Joshua to replace it (usually a much-sought-after privilege), but for some reason he was less-than-excited:

“Thanks, Dad,” he sourly grumbled. “How great that I get to be the one stung by high-voltage bees.”

There’s just no pleasing some people.

Sarah found this particularly-difficult cache hidden among the trestles of the bridge.

Eventually we found seven caches and discovered many scenic locales, including:

• a geocache container disguised as an electrical transformer
• an elaborate porta-potty enclosure
• a railroad bridge with a bunch of dead salmon
• a deep river gorge, spanned by a one-lane bridge
• a monument for miners, killed in a series of mine disasters
• an abandoned stone building, nearly overrun by forest growth

Sarah and Rachel didn’t seem to appreciate the odor or lack of toilet paper.

This bridge shook especially hard when a logging truck passed by …

It was a delightful day; warm, sunny, and almost cloudless. I spent it just the way I wanted, with the people I love best, laughing and exploring and enjoying each other. With a birthday like that, I can hardly wait to turn 45!

David sure does love his Mama.

Kathy and I have been married for 17.5 years, now, happier every year.

– Tim

Go Navy?

Anyway, I’ll try and get a picture of him in his full regalia next week. For now, here’s a shot of him in his Navy PT workout clothes.

Kathy

When I was employed at Amazon, I enjoyed a four-day work-week, with Mondays off. I used to take the kids away for the day, on some adventure or other, and let Kathy stay home. She is with the kids nearly all the time, as mother and teacher. I joke that we need to give her some ‘down time’ or we’ll end up checking her into the Whispering Pines Clinic for Homeschooling Moms, an imaginary treatment center for teaching moms who experience nervous breakdowns.

Maybe it isn’t quite as imaginary as I thought.

My parents hosted a Pastor’s Retreat at the Refuge, and so on the Sunday afternoon before Labor Day I loaned them Joshua as a Gibeonite (a hewer of wood and drawer of water) to help set up for the event. The other four and I followed Monday morning, so that I could serve as a photographer and the younger kids could help out as needed.

There were about 25 pastors and their wives in attendance at this year’s conference.

Some Dads dread a day with their children, but not me; my children are a lot of fun to be around. Everyone seemed cheerful as we set off; the younger three read books quietly in the back of the van while Rachel and I chatted companionably in the front.

Setting up for lunch

At the Retreat center, the kids helped out while I snapped pictures, and then waited patiently for everyone to be served before sampling the lunch buffet.

The Refuge Dining Room

After helping to move all the chairs back to the meeting room (there was such a large crowd that we needed to use the meeting-room chairs for dining) the younger four and I went geocaching, while Joshua stayed to enjoy the second half of the Pastor’s conference. In spite of the rain, we tramped up and down the coast of the Hood Canal and found all six of our intended caches.

A typical geocache is found in an old ammunition box, often hidden in a dead log.

Daniel, my middle boy, felt that he was badly treated by his siblings at one of the caches, and was inclined to sulk. “I’ll just sit in the car, then,” he told me grumpily. Such incidents often spiral downward with Daniel, so I braced myself for a long afternoon of rebukes and punishments; but God had more cheerful plans. I was pleasantly surprised to see Daniel reverse course quickly and snap out of his selfishness, kindly offering treats from his backpack to the others and working hard to engage them in smiling conversation. I was proud of him for the effort he took to restore his relationship with his siblings.

Some geocaches are much smaller, like this one (the size of a pill bottle)

We returned in time to sample the dessert buffet.

“How do you do that?” Joshua asked me. “You arrive just as the line clears, but before all the dessert is gone. You must teach me this.”

I smiled mysteriously – I don’t tell all of my secrets.

My parents were tired after the guests departed, and it seemed that we would be more trouble than we were worth, so we didn’t stay to help clean up.

We did manage to score some leftovers, though.

Worried that we might return home before Kathy was quite ready for us, and wanting Joshua to get some after-dark driving experience, I decided to stop off in Shelton. “We’re here to stall,” I told the kids, in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

Usually we are quite anxious to get home, but for some reason, everyone seemed to accept this cheerfully. “I really want Mom to finish my chart,” Rachel insisted, “so we should take our time.” We wandered the aisles of Wal-Mart and managed to find one or two things that we hadn’t realized we ‘needed’. No one (except Sarah) seemed to want to eat at McDonalds, so we jumped back into the van and I cruised the shopping center for an alternative.

We’re pretty frugal about some things, and so we don’t eat out at restaurants very much. I spotted a Godfather’s Pizza and hustled the kids inside to enjoy the all-you-can-eat buffet, much to their surprise and delight. “You have been hiding this place from me,” my oldest son reproved, eyeing the pizza hungrily.

Not our actual Godfather’s Pizza restaurant.

One of the cool things about parenting is that your children often reflect facets of the two people you love best in the world: yourself, and your spouse. I was very impressed to see all five of my children hit the salad bar first, and only then did they sample the pizza selections. Kathy has been an excellent role model in healthy eating, these past five years. They took after me in terms of the quantity of pizza that was consumed.

Having the dining area to ourselves, I asked to have the big TV turned off, and we laughed and told stories and carried on as though we were at home in our own kitchen. We played the “What are you thankful for?” game, always one of my favorites at meal times. Eventually the buffet closed, and we reluctantly tore ourselves away and staggered to the van.

Joshua drove us home, contravening all custom and common practice by staying in one lane and observing the speed limit, much to the consternation of the other drivers. I reflected on the cheerfulness of the day, and how devoid it had been of bickering, selfishness and mean words.

Laughter, yes; mean words, no.

How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity! — Psalm 133:1

My heart was full of joy and pride, thinking of the grace, kindness and positive leadership that my children had shown to the retreat participants and to each other.

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. — 3 John 4

Tim

Film maker Joshua and his crew.

Our plane was delayed in Dallas, and it seemed quite late when we finally got home. Our dear friend Jen-Bob, not content with picking us up at the airport, also cleaned our house and stocked our fridge with surprises, regaling us with stories and laughter until we could no longer keep our eyes open. A “Welcome Home” sign from Michelle and Jen-Bob’s “10 Reasons I’m Glad They Are Home” on our whiteboard, helped us to know that we had been missed.

Sarah and her cousin, Aydia, have a LITTLE too much fun together.

I had big plans for our 14 days in Texas, some of which failed to materialize; even so, it was a very successful vacation by any measure. Along with Kathy’s parents, all three of her brothers were there, with two of their wives, four cousins (including the celebrity, Baby Logan), a friend from Michigan, and a Great Uncle and his friend, rounding us out to 21 in all.

Hot and sunny and one big family.

We swapped stories, played cards and board games, drove around in golf carts, ate many delicious meals, hunted geocaches, and devoured bowl after generous bowl of ice cream at the local PICO’s store. The pool (the length of a football field) was mostly ours alone, and many happy hours were spent splashing, floating, swimming and just sitting with our feet dangling in the cool spring water.

Tahlia and Rachel are buddies!

We worked on several crafts and projects as a family, and gathered each evening to hear the kids read aloud “the Chapter” from the gospel of Matthew, and to discuss it together. I was permitted to teach Sunday School the first week at a local church, and Kathy’s Dad was invited to preach there the second Sunday.

Time to read the Bible chapter!

Several went fishing, some visited the local museum, and there were many shopping excursions to replenish food stocks. I worked from the library two days, and we checked email sporadically. Kathy’s Dad quashed a termite infestation and worked around the yard. Nerf wars raged and pictures were snapped by the hundreds. Everyone seemed to work hard to get along and to be kind, which was no small accomplishment with so many people underfoot.

Grandad (and the golf cart) are the true favorites of our time in Texas.

Normal life is sometimes hard. We are busy people, and it is no easy task to serve in our church, raise and school our children, do our work and maintain our home. But it seems easier, somehow, to put our shoulder to the wheel, with such warm and golden memories treasured up from this summer vacation.

Tim

Today Tim has the children and will be gone until dark. Can you hear the angels singing? I have the entire day to myself. There are school books and binders spread across the dining room table. My hope is to have some sort of a school plan established by the end of the day.

Hence my time here on the blog. There’s too much pressure over in the other room - books to sort, curriculum decisions to make, a transcript of Joshua’s freshmen year to document, meals to plan.

Instead of dealing with all of that, I’d much rather think about our vacation, where it was hot and sunny and there was no talk of school allowed.

Yes, we settled on red as our theme traveling shirt this year. It was a tough battle between green and red, and one child voted for a Christmas look, combining the two favored colors. Needless to say red won.

With that said, I must get back to the table o’ responsibility that awaits me. Cheers on this Labor Day!

Kathy

Mind you, there were only 3ish bikes, and about on average 18ish children (counting a few neighborhood hooligans) So if you wanted to use the bikes, you had to:

1. Bribe a brother
2. Keep the bikes out of sight from other competitors
3. Escape!

It was lots of fun! : )

Anyways, the bikes, golf cart rides, swimming, walking, talking, were all fun, but I think my favorite was the ping pong tournaments! The CITS (counselors in training), Hannah, Allison, and I, all participated. Oh and an occasionally a dad or two. ; ) We played games like; Round Robin, (haha even now I still want to call it Red Robin! :P) We played two on two, and one on one. But my favorite was definitively ‘Red Robin’. Because so many people could play!

They pretend to be working on camp stuff, but they’re really plotting ping-pong strategies.

An exploding ping-pong would be cool!

Another fun thing we did, was geocaching. I think my dad wrote a blog on geocaching not to long ago, but just in case you missed it, I’ll put a link! Just for you! : )

The first geocache we visited was on a cool rock mound. We had to drive up and up and up to get there. I got dizzy! haha : P

Sarah picked this out of the cache just for Mom.

The second was not a real cache, but just a cool location. The Pancho, and Edgren children (except for the younger ones) braved the climb down, than up the steep rocks. I probably should have stayed, because I fell in 3 times! And if you don’t believe me, I have bruises to prove it! lol : )

This waterfall was awesome! Even if I did fall in.

I just came from swim team, ahhh it was hard, but it felt sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good to swim!! That’s one of the only things I missed during the week at the Duckabush. I love swimming! : )

Dan seemed to think this water was good for swimming. Brrrr

This was our LAST geocache of the day. Number 3!

Also, a super fun part of the week was driving around on the Red Blitz, I don’t really know why they call the golf cart that…. maybe they hope it will go faster with a cool name? I think that’s a good idea! Grandma and Grandpa were major nice to share the ‘Red Blitz’ with us. And, we only broke one little part of it. I thought that was pretty good, for almost two houses full of teens!

This is my Grandpa, and of course my favorite sister. (oh wait, I only have one! haha)

Here, Hannah and I are pretending to drive crazy, but no worries, I’m a safe person. ; )

The rest of the week was spent playing doing, well just about anything you can think of, it was pretty amazing. We even managed to clean the house on Saturday. The girls and my mom rushed around cleaning as fast as possible, it was….. well, interesting I miss it already…… It was a GREAT week and we were all sad to go home.

I hope next year everyone can come out to the Duckabush, and have an even better time! Oh AND, I’ll be a CIT next year!! MWHAHAHA just kidding, I am excited though! : ) I think…….

Sincerely, anonymous or not so anonymous Edgren child : )