If I've counted correctly, I've had 43 first days of school and the first 35 were consecutive.  I'm pretty sure that there's more than one photo in an album somewhere of me on a first day of school.  But I didn't take those pictures. And why would I take a picture of myself on my way to a college class at 7:30 in the morning?  It never even entered my mind that I should take a picture as I walked into my classroom any of the years that I was teaching.  When Jeremy and Justin started school, we kinda eased into it and the first thing we knew, we were homeschooling and hadn't bothered to take a picture of the first day.

Things changed yesterday when school began.  For the first time in ages, I had to worry about getting a student somewhere before the tardy bell rang.  J has been with us since the end of June and even though we don't have custody yet, we were able to figure out how to get him enrolled in school.  He was excited as we picked out a backpack and lunchbox and collected school supplies.  After he got dressed, Justin noticed that the backpack and lunchbox matched JJ's shirt and he set out on a mission find as many green accessories as possible.  He didn't take the umbrella or wear the sunglasses, but it was fun while it lasted.  

 Then I set out to break my record.  I took some "first day" pictures.  There was plenty of anxiety to go around even though it was all contained in one small body.  Jeremy and Justin have done this long enough that I was able to leave them with a list of work to do as I drove JJ to school and got him settled in his classroom.

I'm sure that every morning won't begin with such great smiles, but I am sure that I'll be glad in years to come that after this many years I finally took a picture of the first day of school.

This morning I jarred my pickles.  I suppose I should say I canned my pickles, but I didn't put them in a hot water bath - just put the pickles in jars and poured hot pickle juice over them before putting lids on.  As I worked, I had to remember my grandmother (second in this family picture from the 50's) since I use her pickle recipe.  I have never eaten any of these pickles and don't plan to, but my family loves them and I make the pickles for them.  

For years Grandma made her pickles without the benefit of an recipe.  Fearing that a family recipe might get lost, my Aunt (far left) measured every ingredient as Grandma used them and wrote out the recipe to be included in a church cookbook.  My copy of the recipe was copied out of that cookbook and is in shreds, but I've taped it up and put in the a sheet protector.  It took me several tries to get the recipe right so there are notes scribbled on my copy.  On my first try the pickles shriveled up to nothing in the bottom of my crock.

Grandma wasn't much of a talker; she was a doer.  Our family reaped the benefits of her love in the jars and jars of grape juice, grape jelly, red beets and pickles that she canned for us.  It wasn't until after she was gone, that I began to realize what a labor of love that was.  We ate and drank hours of her love.  When we would visit Grandpa and Grandma in Indiana she would pull out boxes of frozen fish that grandpa had caught and cleaned and offer up more love on a plate in the form of fried fish.  We always got a lesson from Grandpa on how to take the bones out but usually by the time he had finished his demonstration, I was working on my second or third fish.

Not long after Dean and I were married, we visited Grandma for a weekend.  She again served us love on a plate, but as I headed to bed that night I experienced another aspect of Grandma's love.  As I passed her bedroom door, I could hear her praying.  I don't remember any of her words, but I went to bed that night knowing that she had prayed for me.  Grandma's name will never be found in history books, but she knew how to love her family and how to put some of that love into jars.

Last week we had VBS at church and as always, the boys were ready bright and early on the first morning.  They were so eager to get out the door, that it was next to impossible to get them to eat anything.  It's a good thing they all got a snack during class or they might have collapsed from hunger before we got home in time for a late lunch.

Each class was kept busy moving from one activity to another.  JJ loved the music times and he continues to sing the songs he learned this week.  Friday evening all the boys sang some of the songs for Dean.

Justin and Jeremy were much more excited about the game time which usually included getting wet in some way or another.  This is their last year to be students and they're looking forward to being helpers next year.

Even though I only got pictures of singing and games, the lesson times were the most important time of the day.  I was blessed to walk into my classroom each morning and find students ready to quote memory verses or to let me know what extra chores they'd done at home in order to win extra prizes.  All our lessons were taken from the book of Joshua and we were all challenged. 

On Thursday, we left after classes and drove up to Pennsylvania to get corn. Thanks to my in-laws' generosity and the boys' diligence, we got a little more than half of it processed before we came home.  Of course that meant that we had the rest to deal with Friday afternoon after finishing up VBS and I was a little more than tired by the time it was done.  We had several things planned for the week that we didn't accomplish, but the week still goes down in the "good week" column.  

Now we have less than two weeks before we start our new school year.  At the top of our to-do list is getting the water leak under the house fixed since it means we are dealing with no water most of the day.  At the top of the boys' list is time with cousins and grandparents.  When we were talking about summer activities, Justin stated that it seemed like a very short summer break.  Since it's the longest summer break they've had in years, it must mean that they've had a good time.

After staying home for several days in a row and getting some much needed tasks completed, we headed to the lake this morning.  We weren't the first ones there, but there was plenty of room on the beach to set up home base.

The boys made up a boogie board game that was fun until one small boy landed in the water too many times.  (Believe it or not, he was smiling in this picture.)  Jeremy was the winner. 

I still haven't figured out why you might need a water gun in the lake, but we took them and I think I was on the losing end.  I just don't enjoy getting water in my face.

Justin has always loved digging in the sand and today was no exception.  He started out by digging a knee deep hole and kept at it until he was buried up to his waist.  He buried himself so well that he needed help getting out.

The remnants of our lunch were gobbled up on the way home and all the boys ate a good supper.  Two of them almost fell asleep during family worship and I'm counting on all of them sleeping soundly.  I'm just hoping that my sunburn doesn't keep my from resting.

This afternoon I sent the boys outside with their water guns and then got a squirt bottle and sat in the shade on the swing and took aim at any boy who came near.  Of course they had mega water guns and there were three of them, so I was quickly drenched.  I chased them around the yard a little bit and then decided to get the mail.

Not far from where I had just been standing shooting my squirt bottle with abandon this guy stuck him head up.  He'd obviously been in the line of fire because he had drops of water on his back.

I called for the boys and they assured me they were professionals and wanted to pick him up.  Even though I recognized him as harmless, he was still close to five feet long and I wasn't real keen on seeing him in their hands.

We had fun watching him slither through the grass and even got him to turn around and bunch up a couple of times.  He didn't like being tapped on his back.

The last we saw of him, he was heading for a brushy spot in the neighbor's yard.  He'd better watch out because the last time our neighbor found a black snake in his yard he starting shooting at it.

“Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.'

'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 

                                         JJ with Cowboy
'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.' 

'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?' 

                       Jeremy with Greenie
'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” 

- Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

                                     Justin with Georgie

Even though though Cowboy, Greenie and Georgie are a horse, a dog and an elephant and none of them are made of velveteen, they are very real in the boys' minds.  Georgie and Greenie are most often neglected as Jeremy and Justin mature, but Cowboy and his sidekick Moo have been hauled all around the house and to bed in the past few weeks.  As they are dropped, picked up, hugged and snuggled, they are becoming more and more real.

With temperatures forecast for the high 90's today, the boys and I headed to the park early in an attempt to beat the heat.  They were having great fun running different obstacle courses.   They were taking turns setting up courses for each other to run and were timing themselves to see who was the fastest.

But something caught their attention.  Something small that made them slow down and look closely.

This little frog wasn't real slow, but he did catch our attention.  He took several death defying leaps before we finally got a focused shot of him.

Then the search was on for other small creatures.  This fellow was very cooperative and didn't fidget when we asked him to smile for the camera.

Of course the mushroom was very cooperative, but I did have to lie on the ground to get this shot.

We found several spiders, but this one was the only one that we were able to get a photo of. 

Even though we could hear different birds, we were unable to see any.  Our early jaunt to the park started with one objective, but we ended up doing something entirely different and still having a nice time.

Today I stood in front of a card display and cried.  Jeremy and Justin were standing there trying to pick out a Father's Day card and they were having great fun reading cards and trying to find the perfect one.  I've been steeling myself, but when I started to see cards that I would have picked up and read last year, I began to cry.  I always loved finding just the perfect card for Dad each year and would look until I found one that expressed my love for him.  

In the last six months I've had plenty of time to think of things that I could have said to dad and I've felt bad that I didn't.  Even though I would love to tell Dad that I love him, I don't wish him back to this world of sorrow.  As much as I'd like to say thank you again, I'd rather think of him strong and pain-free and rejoicing in what the Lord has done for him.  I'm thankful for the memories that I have and for the times that I did share messages from my heart.

Like the times I shared my frustrations and the gentle way he listened.  And the time when I had attended a youth retreat and I gave him a big hug when I got home.  Or the scary times when I had to go to Dad and admit that I had messed up.  Then there are the times when I didn't have much to talk about on the phone, but I wanted to hear his voice and tell him I loved him.  And I'll never forget the message I gave him right before he walked me down the aisle to get married.  I'll remember these times and try not to spend time listing my regrets.

Even though I enjoy cooking, I do not collect cookbooks.  Every now and then, I check one out at the library and try a recipe or two, but I'm never completely satisfied with the results.  Over the years though, I have been collecting recipes that we enjoy as a family.  Some of them, like the recipe for Tena's cinnamon rolls or Pam's chicken enchiladas, are written on little scraps of paper.  Others, like a recipe for biscuits from Mary or Betty's Chicken Tortilla Bake, are written on a recipe card by the lady who gave them to me.

My recipe for gingerbread from Kendra and a basic muffin recipe from Sue are printed on a sheet of paper and enclosed in a sheet protector.  I have three church recipe books which contain recipes shared by ladies that I love and know as good cooks.  Of course there's my old standby - the Betty Crocker that my parents gave me for my 20th birthday.  An old worn card is titled Aunt Fanny's Cracker Jack and is a favorite in the extended family.  Intermixed with all the recipe cards are a few recipes that have been clipped from magazines.  There are two recipes in my collection that I've never tried, but I have no intention of discarding.  Both are recipes written out by my grandmothers-ladies who were keepers of their homes and who enjoyed cooking, cleaning and caring for their families.

When I pull out a recipe that has someone else's name on it, I always spend a few moments with my memories.  When I use my mother's crescent roll recipe, I remember how I always loved having a roll to snack on after school and how she made 300 rolls to be served at our wedding.  When I decide to make Grace's Cheeseburger Soup, I remember pleasant times of visiting with her and her husband.   When I pull out Aunt Ruthanna's Peanut Butter Pie recipe, I pray the Lord's blessing on her life.  When Justin decides to make Gingy's Peach Cobbler, I recall the lovely times of fellowship we had with believers in Frederick, MD.  For me,  cooking is more than feeding my family, it's a time of memories and reflection.

We aren't real active in a homeschool group, but we do subscribe to one that provides us with many excellent field trip opportunities.  Last week, we joined other homeschoolers for a tour of the Nina and the Pinta.

These boats are reproductions (of course) of two of Columbus' ships that he sailed in his quest to find a new route to India.  They were built by Portuguese builders (in Brazil) using original construction techniques.  We had talked about the ships being hand-crafted before we left and the boys wondered if the trees had been chopped or cut down.  One of the crew assured us that they trees were felled as they would have been in the 1400's.

Jeremy and Justin were both fascinated by this little cannon which looks like a toy and were happy to hear that it has just been shot a couple of days before our visit.  Our guide let us know that it was very loud even though they shot hamburger buns instead of cannon balls.

This flag which flew from the front of the Pinta is a reproduction of the first true flag to be seen in the new world.  I waited some time for the flag to fly in the opposite direction so it wouldn't be backwards and finally gave up.

We spent about an hour on the ships and learned quite a bit of new information, making it a very worthwhile field trip.