When things seem murky......

 
....ask one of the kids to interpret

Me:  "Alright you guys...off the piano. I wanna play one o' my CD's."

Trevor:  "Do gwasslands, Mommy. Do gwasslands."

*blinks*

Me:  "Uh....'grasslands?'"

Trevor:  "Do gwass-lands!"

Ethan:  "He means 'Bluegrass,' Mommy."

*comes the dawn*

Me:  "Ohhhhh. Well, Bunny, that's what I was plannin' anyway."

(great minds think alike)

"Ahhhh, am a man--of constant sor-ROW, Ah've seen trou-ble all mah lahf....."

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Monday's sunset

  

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The Jim-Bob Report: Dateline, Iowa

"Good evening. I'm Jim McDonald and tonight we have another look at that wacky family from Iowa, the Hoyts. Our man in the field, Bob MacCackle, recently got a news tip that the matron of the family--sometimes referred to as "Ma Hoyt"--has become something of a local celebrity. Bob, what's the latest on Ma?"

"Well Jim, it's unbelievable that this woman's photography talents haven't been acknowledged earlier, but now she can say that one of her pictures has been featured on television. This morning, at approximately 5:27 a.m., that amazing photo of the sundogs was featured for almost 10 seconds on Today in Iowa by meteorologist, Mark Schnackenberg."

"The Schnack? My ol' buddy the Schnack ?"

"Yes Jim. It's certainly takes us down memory lane....what do you remember most about him, eh?"

"Oh my, my, Bob. Mark will always remain indelibly fixed in my memory.....for his work ethic, his immense understanding of meteorologic issues....but mostly, 'cause I just couldn't pronounce his last name.....*cough*....but getting back that picture, Bob..."

"Right, Jim. The picture was shown, as I mentioned before, at 5:27 a.m., with The Schnack pointing out the dogs to the left and right of the sun as they appeared on that frigid morning of February 17. Not only that, but he clearly mentioned the name, 'Rebecca Hoyt.' AND, get this, Jimbo....her name was even printed across the top of the SCREEN ! I'm tellin' ya, it was a beautiful moment...just so beautiful.....*sniff*..."

"Alright Bob. Let's see if we can pull it together ol' man...Now, our listeners will no doubt want to hear just what causes this meteorological phenomenon. So Bob, take a moment, if you will and explain what weather conditions are required to produce a sundog...."

"Uh....well Jim, I thought YOU knew....*clears throat*....after all, you're the one getting paid big bucks...*thinly veiled snarls*......with the Lexus and the cushy 401K plan, JIM !"

"They just pay me to look pretty on TV, Bob. Believe me, glamour has it's dark underbelly--which, thanks to that second liposuction, no one should ever notice.....*turns back to viewing audience*.....And that's all we have time for tonight, folks.

Tune in next time when we explore that emerging literary controversy: Is it possible Little Lord Fauntleroy was really a girl ? Could the whole tale have been lifted from the Beatrix Potter series?

This is Jim McDonald, for Bob MacCackle in Des Moines....goodnight."
 

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Sports that didn't make the Olympics

 
Cow Moguls
 

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Sports that didn't make the Olympics

 
While amazed at the finesse and artistry displayed by the young Olympic hopeful, judges decided not to sanction Potty Training as an official Olympic sport.

A Torino judge stated, "We can't tell about the future, naturally, but for the 2006 Olympics, Potty Training will only be on a exhibitionary status. We encourage all interested parties to keep training for the 2010 games."

The young lad's proud but disappointed mother replied, "I just don't know if he can wait four years...." 

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It's morning again, in Iowa

  
And speaking of photos, upon checking my full email box, I discovered one from the Channel 7 meteorologist, Mark Schnackenberg. (true, I didn't meet him in Arby's, but they all seem to be swell fellows) I'd sent in that photo of the sundogs and they are going to air it on Today in Iowa at 5:25 on Monday morning, the 27th!

Yes...your beloved, annoying yet humble and endearing MA will be famous!

Now, all you local peoples, let's be sure and set your alarms. 5:15 might be early enough, but if you wish to be fully awake, partially filled with coffee and in an acceptably receptive artistic mood, you might want to set it for 5:10.

Of course, I would never suggest that people call in or email the station to offer flattering comments like, "What a SUPER picture!" "I have never been so inspired.....I'm determined to get my doctorate, now." (or my personal favorite) "Why isn't this woman--who is CLEARLY a professional photographer--in demand for the Network talk shows?"

I think I'll be up, since Loren is supposed to take an early route tomorrow that will demand rising by 4:30 a.m. *yawn*

Some of you might want to get to bed a little early tonight.

Let your conscience be your guide.

And don't worry, I'll always remain the meek and lowly MA you've come to admire and adore.
 

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Together almost 59 years

  

I'm sure you'll excuse Ma's unprofessional photography...with the glare and all.
_____________________________

Fifty-eight plus years is not bad. Not bad at all.
_____________________________

(by the way, we are safely back in Iowa)

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Lookin' good

 

At the funeral there was a wooden standup of Dad, slightly shorter than his actual height. There's a story behind this, somewhere, I just haven't heard it yet. This is very typical of how he looked in real life. For some reason, he hardly ever smiled for posed pictures, but he was a very pleasant and gracious person. 

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(if you click on the picture...twice...you'll get a more readable image. Forgive Ma's amateurish publishing.)

Dad's memorial service was such a blessing. From congregational singing, to scripture reading to sharing from all five children. And we got through our special without cracking up, so that was good.

It is sometimes hard thinking about just having to endure this type of service, but afterward it felt as though everything was right, somehow.

(and I don't think anyone really minded that "someone" only glanced at the right side of the program and ended up reading the ENTIRE chapter of Isaiah 40....)

More sharing from friends after the meal, whereupon the family gathered at Doug and Cindy's to spend time and share some more...

And now, it's been a lonnnnggg day, with travel back to Ioway tomorrow.

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Mr. Ham and Co.

 

Horsin' around in the motel 
____________________________

We arrived safely in Elkhart In., checked in at the motel, and then visited the funeral home.

*sigh*

They just can't make people look like they were in real life.

Had some good but emotional visits with family and saw a few folks that haven't been seen for 25 years. It's definite....we are all getting older.

I just have to keep looking at my little bunnies every so often.....
 

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Another ZERO!

Loren got the call this morning that yesterday's heart biopsy came back with zero rejection :-) We are most happy. The next biopsy will be in May, and he will reduce the Prednisone one more notch two weeks before that one. (the biopsies are to see if reducing the med is allowing rejection of the heart to set in) The goal is to get Loren off the Prednisone altogether.

In other news, we are preparing to travel to Indiana, approximately leaving around 8 in the morning, and stopping at the funeral home in the evening, then off to our host home where we can hopefully throw a few kids in the tub before sleeping.

Have to do some cleaning at the church and then finish the rest EARLY in the morning before we leave. It's either that or stay up REAL late to finish after their church activities are through. And I don't know about you, but I'd much rather stay up real late packing all the stuff you can't pack until the last minute.

In the meantime, the search for my brain continues.....
 

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In which.....

  
.....an imprint is enhanced over time
 
I received a forwarded email from brother Doug this morning. It was from a man who had gone to church when I was growing up, and I actually remember him and his wife, Jim and Anna Bishop.

I'm sharing most of the letter because it is descriptive of a side of my dad that many people may not be aware of....

"I was saddened to read my MennoLink digest first thing this morning and learn of the death of Robert J. Baker of Elkhart, Ind. Bob was a special friend over the years. I still have a two-page letter received from him in 1963 after a free-verse poem that I wrote, "A Graduate's Prayer" appeared in "Youth's Christian Companion" - some of you will remember that weekly paper. I didn't know Bob at that time, but his affirming words at a critical stage in my life helped spur my writing interests as a student at then Eastern Mennonite College.

Who would have thought back then that my wife and I would wind up spending four wonderful years in Elkhart, 1967-71, and become involved at Belmont Mennonite Church where Bob and Anna Mae Baker were members. Bob became a mentor to me during that period. We encouraged each other, cried on each other's shoulders when the rejection letters from editors came, accused each other of stealing article ideas.

While at Belmont, I started a monthly church newsletter, "Intersect," and invited Bob to be a columnist. He accepted, and wrote "Seth's Korner," under the guise of a crusty but sharp-witted curmudgeon who kuldn't spel rite. The column was soon picked up by "Gospel Herald," but eventually was dropped as readers protested his atrocious spelling and even more outrageous commentaries on church life (GH even labeled it "satire," but that didn't seem to help). What gives me great satisfaction is that the "Intersect" newsletter at Belmont is still going strong, with Marian Hostetler as editor.

Bob was actually rather quiet and introvertish by nature, but something "clicked" when he got in front of a group to speak. I never saw anyone lead a Sunday school class like he did, blending practical and insightful input with vigorous pupil-teacher interaction. When someone in the class offered a comment that may not have been all that helpful or even relevant to the topic, Bob was able to take it and make it sound like that person had just unlocked the mystery of the Trinity. I never saw myself as a SS teacher, but those times I was called upon to be one I always drew heavily on Bob's "If I Were Teaching the Lesson" column in "Builder" magazine.

After we left Elkhart for Harrisonburg the summer of 1971, I stayed in touch with Bob. We corresponded back and forth, and his annual family Christmas letter was always a hoot. Our paths crossed several times over the years, but I hadn't seen him in some time when word came via Marian Hostetler that Bob had suffered a stroke and was in intensive care in a South Bend hospital.

I had just put a 'thinking of you' card in the mail to the Bakers several days ago, telling Bob that while he might be ready for eternity that he was needed a bit longer here on Earth. Guess God had other plans in mind, which from a temporal point of view we're not able to perceive.

My thoughts and prayers go out to Anna Mae and the Baker family. I'd love to be able to attend the funeral service at Belmont on Friday, but I'll be there in spirit. I was privileged to know and to receive so much from a remarkable man whose life "intersected" mine."
---------

Jim Bishop
Public Information Officer
Eastern Mennonite University
 

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Dad's funeral is scheduled for Friday, 10:30 at the Belmont Mennonite Church in Elkhart, Indiana. As far as I know, we'll be traveling out on Thursday. If we can keep it together emotionally, our family may do a special number.

Carolyn seems to be coming down with a cold, so I hope THAT is not going to be raging through the family--I don't wish to spread things to others at the funeral.

Loren is up to Mayo. He had been scheduled weeks ago to decrease one of his meds and then have a follow-up biopsy to make sure that decrease wasn't allowing any rejection. He'll be home tomorrow evening.

We would appreciate your prayers for:
-a zero rejection biopsy for Loren
-that the whole family won't be getting sick just now
-safety for him coming back from Rochester tomorrow, and for us as we travel out to Indiana in a couple of days
-all the getting ready for 10 people to go on a trip
-just getting through it all
-my mom, my brother Doug and sister Nancy who are right there and are dealing with things I don't have to

Yesterday was really tough. I woke up planning to go to church, read my brother's email and pretty much turned into a basket case for the rest of the day. But that part is over. I am thankful Dad isn't suffering.

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Robert J. Baker

 
September 9, 1920 - February 19, 2006

We received word that Dad passed away this evening, with Mom and my sister, Nancy, at his side.

I am very glad I was able to go out and be with family and see my father during one of his alert times. His last words to me before Ardith and I left were, "You're a good girl."
 

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(the following is an email my oldest brother (Doug) sent out after I retired to bed last night)

Brothers and sisters,

Friday afternoon between 5 and 6 pm dad was transferred to the skilled care unit at Greencroft. The hope was and is that he will receive rehab and be able to recover mentally and physically. However since arriving there he has only been sleeping and we have been unable to wake him. This could be a sign that his body is repairing itself, or it could be a sign that the end is near. Tonight I tend to think that it may be the latter.

We did have a small group gather round for anointing and to pray for healing, but also to release him into the Lord's will. This was not planned very far ahead, but just happened as Paul G., Dan M., and Willard S. were present as representatives of the larger church. Mom, Nancy, Cindy, and I were also there.

Our brother Solly went home last night, the last to of the out of town siblings. It was a blessing to have all the brothers and sisters together for a short time. Four of his grandchildren, Ardith, Didi, Gabe, and Josh were also able to spend a little time with him this week.

Your continued prayers for Dad and for our family will be very much appreciated. I know that many of you are very much wanting to show your love for and see Dad, but at this point he cannot recognize anyone, probably not even his immediate family, and our family does need space to process and perhaps to say goodbye. If things improve and Dad can receive visitors we will let you know. Thanks in advance for your gracious understanding. I know that is a hard time for many of you as well as for us.

Yours in Christ,
Doug
 

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Music to the ears

-the sound of running water through a formerly frozen pipe

-the flush of a toilet

-the laughter of happy children as they rush to get their Saturday baths at 8:35 p.m. (OK, that "happy" part may have been an exaggeration)

-the smug gurgle of the dishwasher

-the tired sigh of the breadwinner after rising at 5:30, working and then coming home to work some more

-the soft slurping noise of restorative chocolate therapy
 

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Dreams of the Cacti

  

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Yes.......

....we have no

more

water.

Again.

Sometimes, I am almost tempted, just barely, to HATE this stupid old house.

But of course, I would never succumb to that.

Probably.

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Am I in Heaven?

 
Noooo, you're in the lobby of a South Bend Hospital. 

Ya just gotta love alternative medicine :-D   It's nice to know people are starting to see things my way.

I didn't buy a beverage in this little place, but I could use one right about now. I'm trying to catch up on a few things, the French Conncection, remembering the kids' names and other miscellany.

Hmmmmm, does it seem odd that I could be gone three days and the little boys only have one sock and one pajama shorts in their dirty clothes basket?

I don't feel led to pursue an extensive investigation into that matter, but I am pleased to announce that previous results in the potty-training arena have been replicated.

*clears throat*

"If you wait until they're almost 4, you can potty-train a kid in a week or less. If you go away for a few days, your 11-year-old daughter just may do it for you."

Now, for your edification, stress-relief, or whatever, Wilson has IM'd me this lovely link for the good of all mankind, the universe, and probably the entire cosmos.

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Becky...how is your dad?

Well, he is hangin' in there.

This evening Dad was scheduled to be moved to a nursing care center, Greencroft, in Goshen, Indiana. There will be at least a month of rehabilitation therapy attempted to see what he can recover.

He has definite weakness on the left side and is still hazy with memory and stuff, though yesterday he had an INTERESTING morning....

I can't remember all of what dad said, since he kept talking SO MUCH. Ardith was in the room for part of it and I was glad, for she hadn't seen any responsiveness before.

The resident (I'm-sorry-but-all-the-studies-show-that response-to-this-type-of-event-is-not-good) Doc came by Dad's new room and attempted talking with him. In answer to the questions, Dad told him he was a) in a hospital.... b) in South Bend, IN.... c) in Memorial Hospital.....d) he'd had a stroke..... e) the year was 1966 :-) Oh well, 4 outta 5 ain't bad. Besides, he'd answered even earlier years to previous time questions.

"I would really like a glass of water..."

"We have to give you a swallow test, Mr. Baker. You don't want to get something in your lungs and get pneumonia, do you?"

"No....but I would only take a little drink..."

"Is Mother here?"

"Yes, Dad....Mom, come over here...."

"Anna Mae?"

"Yes Bob, I'm right here."

"You're a good wife. I don't know what I'd do without you....How 'bout that glass of water, now?"

*laughter and smiles all around*

(doc) "I'm going to order that swallow test, STAT !"

Dad had a partial test later, and if the nurse cleans out his mouth first, he can now drink water through a straw. Apparently a little water going into the lungs is not a big deal, but if the water takes bacteria down with it, THEN there can be problems.

After all of this conversing, the physical therapists came in and sat him in the recliner for an hour. That was rather taxing and he hasn't been so chatty since. I imagine moving to a new facility has been pretty draining too, so he's going to need some days to just get back to the level mentioned above.

We'll just have to wait and see. Things could still go downhill, but we are somewhat encouraged. Even the resident doctor was impressed. I wonder if those studies stating a 2-3% hemmorhagic stroke survival rate might need to be altered.

I'm thinkin' Dad didn't read the literature.

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Sun and pups

 
Woke up in Iowa to below zero temps. Stepped outside to take a picture of the drifts for those poor folks in Texas and what did my eyes behold, but two nice little sun dogs!

This is just the kind of thing my retired science teacher of a dad would love to point out to people. So, I am saving this picture and when his recovery has progressed, perhaps he can enjoy it.

Too much to tell now, but will try to update, later.

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Safely back in Iowa

-got back

-tired, drained but happy

-east/west roads drifting towards home. Thankful for the Lord's protection

(wish you could have been there when the Resident doctor visited my Dad this morning and carried on a conversation with him! Doc was very surprised and very happy for us all :-)

God knows the future....we'll just rest in His hands.

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Having just returned from the hospital....

....it is time for another report.

This has been SOME day. Not being here for the beginning of the events, I missed out on some of the moment by moment trauma my oldest brother and sister went through. In fact, I was the last sibling to arrive. But today was an encapsulation of the highs and lows, despair and hope....we pretty much ran the gamut of emotions.

The morning began a meeting with the social worker and the resident. Plans have been set in motion to move dad to a nursing facility, with hopes of starting rehab soon. But the resident doctor was not very optimistic, at all concerning the prognosis. There had been less response from Dad and he though it was indicative of the serious nature of a hemorrhagic stroke and the very slim chance of any recovery beyond his sleepy state. After that meeting we were all emotionally spent and crying off and on.

I grabbed Ardith and we went for a walk to clear my head. (by the way, Ardith has been a great comfort to her chère maman :-)

Then the attending doctor, a cardiologist stopped by to talk to the rest. Have I ever told you I have a soft spot in my heart for just about every cardiologist I've ever run into? This doctor said there could be some mitigating reasons for Dad's lack of response:
-he was dehydrated
-he was quite possibly sleep deprived and simply needed more rest
-one of the meds had been continued longer than expected
-his sodium levels were up, but could be regulated

We all felt slightly encouraged after this news. In addition, this doctor was leaving to start a private practice, but stated that he will continue on with Dad through his stay at the hospital.

Also this morning, one of my brothers went into the ICU and quietly sang a couple of hymns to Dad. He said Dad's face perked up (without opening his eyes) and he was TRYING TO SING ALONG! (this has special meaning for those who know Dad basically does not sing :-)

At the same time, his blood pressure being stabilized, Dad was moved to a regular room (Ortho/Neuro Floor). Also, a procedure was performed to put in the Peg Tube in his stomach. (I erroneously reported this to be a PICC Tube...sorry for the misinformation)

This is needed for Dad to get nourishment and to comply with the requirements for nursing care at the rehab facility.

The room change took place and Dad sorta "woke up." This was enhanced by Mom noticing he couldn't open his eyes and she just gently pried the eyelids apart. Turns out they were just glued shut with eye goo. Then he started looking through the slits and responding to questions.

I got back there and said, "Dad...it's Rebecca. REBECCA...do you know me?"

"Sure." (And he said it with the meaning of, "Are you kidding? Of course I do.")

*yea Dad!*

Then Mom came back and he called her by name, and she asked him, "Is there anything we can do for you? Is there anything you want?"

"Can't think of anything right now," was his reply. THAT WAS SIX WORDS, FOLKS :-D

Later he commented about a particular thing he wanted to take to a particular person to get fixed. This was confirmed by Mom as having been discussed within the past two weeks, so he obviously remembered an item he's been thinking about recently.

It was just very exciting, though we are trying not to get our expectations too high.

Personally, I plan to type up all my Dad's verbalizations and SEND THEM TO THAT RESIDENT!!

He has since been moved to a private room that opened up on the floor. It's been a busy day, with two room changes and the insertion of the Peg Tube. (which went well--The Peg Tube is not a feeding tube, though it is a tube and he will be fed through it--it was thought a reasonable measure to take for the next weeks in which rehab will try to reestablish the swallowingg reflex)

Well, I have droned on and on, but it has been a wild day in some respects. Dad is a special guy.

Tomorrow Ardith and I leave around noon, so I won't be aware of as many details, but will try to have regular updates of some type.

You might pray for us as we travel home, since some snow is expected...

Thanks, Mom, for the use of your computer :-D

And thankyou again for everyone's prayers.

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In Indiana

Howdy from Indiana :-)

Ardith and I made it here safely early this evening. No problems on the drive out. I even "let" Ardith drive most of the way--through Chicago, if you can believe that!

Honestly, she is a great driver and I was only terrified once or twice. (JUST KIDDING, Ardith :-D

We went straight to the hospital and saw my father. He has a tube through his nose for one of the meds, as well as a PICC line for the blood pressure medicine (I think) The latest BP med seems to be working well. But the morphine keeps him drugged up. However, on my second visit to his room I repeated, "This is REBECCA...do you know me?" And he managed a weak but definable "Yes."

Reported, when his half-brother came to visit, he put out his hand for a handshake.

They will probably put in a PICC tube to the abdomen for the purpose of nourishment. A month long try at some type of rehabilitation will be attempted....

But, mostly it is a difficult thing to see him lying in bed like that. It is very hard, really.

So please keep praying for sustenance for the family, for God's will for my dad, and for safety as family travels back and forth.

Thank you....(Ma from Grandma's computer)

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Leaving soon for Indiana.

Appreciate your prayers for safe travel and for my dad.

(To kids: "Mommy will be back soon :-) Go the extra mile in getting along with, entertaining and taking care of a certain couple of you-know-who's")

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Just in case you're not tired of hearing....

.....and because I know there are a few people wanting the latest on Dad:

-he's on the third blood pressure medication in attempts to keep it down to an acceptable level (that's not three at once, but the third one tried)

-during some neurological exams this morning his pupils were dilating similarly and both feet were moving similarly

-when awake, he can answer questions properly, though it is very difficult for him to speak

-he gets fidgety because of itchyness, starts rubbing off tubes and setting off alarms and whatnot.....has to be given medicine for that, which puts him back to sleep.

-in the best case scenario, it will be a long haul. If all goes very well, he will be in a hospital or nursing home for 6-8 weeks and still need care and rehabilitation after that.

I was SO glad to find the ICU number I'd been given earlier--then misplaced--for I was able to talk to my Mom and two brothers just a few minutes ago. Mom seems to be holding up pretty well.

It's always possible I've inadvertently given out some incorrect info since I'm repeating things 2nd hand, but this is what I know now. If he gets through the next 24 hours without a setback, we will know more.

Many thanks to everyone who is praying.

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I don't know a whole lot...

....more about my Dad, but things seem pretty much the same. He is sleeping most of the time right now, due to the pain medication.

He is still fairly stable, though is not able to eat anything.

Still in ICU, with another scan scheduled for today (which I assume was done this morning) and then a reevaluation by the doctor this evening.

I am swinging by Ardith's place in Cedar Rapids on my way over to Indiana on Tuesday morning. Ardith missed out on both family reunions last summer and she would like to see family. She can help with the driving and offer moral support :-) and my job is to not make her go nuts :-D

Thank you for your prayers.

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Sometimes......

 
.....it's hard to tell if the sun is shining
 

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Another Update

Having just got off the phone with my sister, I'll share what I know:

The next 48 hours are critical for Dad, but the latest cat scan shows no extended bleeding.

It is thought that the hemorrhaging took place in the back of the brain. The congnitive areas are mostly in the front.

Regulation of his blood pressure is where things are focused right now. The pressure needs to be high enough to get adequate oxygen to the brain, but not so high as to instigate another stroke. The nausea medicine he was given caused the blood pressure to fluctuate quite a bit at first, but things seem stablized at the moment.

As of this morning, he is given a 50/50 chance of survival. I believe this is better than his odds of yesterday.

He rests a lot, but can speak, conveying to my sister that, "This is probably harder for you than for me...." (she was helping him find an unreachable itchy spot) He obviously still has the presence of mind to think of others :-)

He knows his name and that it is February. He does have some weakness regarding his left hand and his vision on the left side.

But the next 48 hours will tell.

At this point, I am planning to drive out on Tuesday, stay Wednesday, and drive back on Thursday. Loren has Thursday off and our capable 18 and 16 year olds, Jason and Kendra, (aided by cheerful potty-trainer extraordinaire, Carolyn) should be able to handle the crew for the two days Loren is at work.

We greatly appreciate all of the prayers for Dad and everyone affected.

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A letter from Dad....

......arrived this past Wednesday, just two days before his stroke. I was going to share it anyway, and right now seems like an appropriate time. Dad carefully tapped it out on his manual typewriter, which he lovingly and stubbornly clings to.

Dear Friends and Foes:

Our "Christmas Letter" comes a bit late: So think of it as being our "Presidential Letter." Sounds impressive. Besides, "Christmas Letters" are often full of family accomplishments, each one seeking bragging rights. You know how they go, success nuggets, such as, "Husband John was promoted again, this time to Senior Vice President, our oldest son, has now joined MENSA, daughter Julianne is first violinist in the orchestra, while Junior, our youngest was promoted from kindergarten directly to Middle School where I, his mother, am president of the Parent Teachers' Association,.....most embarrassing.....etc." and so on, ad infinitum nauseum. We have had no such successes.

No, without question, 2005 was not our best year. Shakespeare said in King Richard III, "Now is the winter of our discontent." Right on. In fact, the bard could have said, "It was the spring, summer, fall, winter of our discontent." Let me complain a wee bit, especially for us senior citizens.

First for Anna Mae, my good wife of over 58 years. She has more right to complain than either of us. And yet does not. During 2005 she had a bad mammogram which led to a lumpectomy (removal of a small bit of malignancy from the breast). Then a loss of weight revealed mild diabetes, now controlled by oral taken glyburide. Then a dentist, replacing a non aching tooth filling, had to drill too deeply, resulting in a week of pain, a trip to an oral surgeon and removal of the tooth. And finally an attack of that mysterious stuff, shingles appeared, then mysteriously disappeared, for the time.

2005 was not fair to Anna Mae. Plus I was around the whole year, a constant pain. Anna Mae had been a real trooper, not complaining. I have played the role of Job in the Bible, and it got me in real trouble. Admittedly, I asked for it. Anna Mae's troubles, one after another, did not seem fair to me. And I let God know it, even suggesting He could pick on me. Believe me, be careful what you suggest to God.

Anyway, in the midst of December, God said, "OK, we can answer that prayer." Anna Mae got chipper and I got chopped. First, it was a nasty intestinal infection that kept me at home and close to the plumbing (sorry this letter is rated "R"). I went crying to the doctor. A round of antibiotics saved me for future generations, well somewhat. Then a yeast infection of the mouth made me think the mucous lining from lips to epiglottis (I majored in science at Goshen College) was lined with cat fur. I lost my appetite completely, even water did not taste right. Or only one thing would taste at all edible. Poor Anna Mae, I was a real pain. I specialized in food desires. One day I wanted only oatmeal, or jello, or pineapple, sometimes flavored water, plain milk, vanilla ice cream, butterscotch pudding, you name it. I asked Anna Mae if I could possibly be "pregnant." She sighed, rolled her eyes, shook her head negatively.

Another round of medicine, this time fifty dollars worth of horrible tasting lozenges. Now, late January, the cat fur lining of mouth and throat, at least seem to be matted down. One good thing, I was either overweight or too short and lost eight or so pounds.

In 2004 my good friend, Leroy Hostetler, left earth for Heaven; in 2005 another faithful brother, Verle Hoffman joined him. Beloved pastor for 21 years, Duane Beck, likewise departed, did not make Heaven but got as far as North Caroline, and a new pastorate. Good for them, bad for me. Bummer follows bummer.

Hasn't this been a fascinating letter, sort of on a gut level basis? And profitable, instructive. There is a lesson in it: Be careful what you pray for: God may take you up on it.

(synopsis on all of us children-containing mostly "good" news :-)

Well, that about sums up 2005, for us, the family. Wants to make you cry, doesn't it? What a whining, wailing, wretched, wearisome weeping, whimpering, letter. (Hey, you note that beautiful alliteration?).

No, 2005 was certainly not the best year. And like Job of the Bible, I've extensively complained. But I would, like Job, use his words in Job 19: "I know that my Redeemer lives and that in the end He will stand upon the earth....I will see God."

And as I think of those in Sudan, Pakistan, Iraq, Indonesia, I need to repent also, like Job, in chapter 40, after being silenced by God: "I am unworthy-how can I reply to God? I put my hand over my mouth....but I will question no more."

At age 100 Leroy Hostetler in a nursing home, near death, said, in review of his life, "God has been so good to me!"

I say, gratefully, "Amen," quietly acknowledge His Son, Jesus Christ as Lord of our lives, miserable wretches that we are.

Again, before we mail them, we lay these letters on the kitchen table, and pray God's richest blessing on you our friends. And we trust, friends of Him.

With Love to All, Bob and Anna Mae Baker

*sigh*

Thanks, Dad.

Keep fighting and running the good race.
 

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Update

The latest word on my dad (other than last night's comment on post below) is that he had been sleeping, meaning the pain issues had been addressed.

The doctors were pleased to get his blood pressure down from 250 to 150 and stabalized.

Another cat scan and re-evaluation to come today.

A big "THANK YOU" to everyone who is praying....
 

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I am requesting prayer....

....for my father. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance late this afternoon with a suspected stroke. I just talked with him by phone a day or two ago...

His name is Robert J. Baker and he is 85 years old, a super guy and I love him VERY MUCH.

The second call I received minutes ago was after a Cat scan had been performed, confirming a massive stroke. Dad was described as being miserable, though I'm not sure how aware he is or for how long.

It appears there is nothing to be done, but he will probably be transferred from Elkhart to a South Bend (IN) hospital where there is a neurosurgeon.

My oldest brother is with him and my mother who is 87. Please pray for her as well. It is hard to be the spouse....("I love you, Mom.")

My dad has always been full of zest and life and while he was slowing down some in the past few years, this comes as something of a shock.

Thank you very much for your prayers....and now, I need to go have a good cry

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The Jim-Bob Report, Dateline: Iowa

"Good evening. I'm Jim McDonald and in just a moment we will bring you our feature story out of Iowa, but first, this breaking news....

....Evangelicals across the nation have signed onto an initiative to combat Global Swarming. There has been talk of the danger of Killer Bees for several decades, with little consensus among the nation's scientists as to just how much of a threat is posed to the nation. But, with the arrival of the Africanized honeybees to Florida, the tide of public opinion has produced a ground swell of fear among America's leading Evangelicals. Reverend Phil Freeh, president of 'The Association for Pastors Looking to Retire in Florida,' had this to say earlier today,"

"The danger to America can no longer be denied. Besides, as our focus groups have pointed out, we have simply got to exhibit more concern for the poor and disenfranchised. I mean, we've had all KINDS of flack for seeming too hard nosed about morality and behavior. And some of us are not even Republicans fer cryin' out loud! This painting us all with the same brush of intolerance has got to stop, and we aim to do it by smashing those awful insects to smithereens....in a humane sorta way, of course."

"Our network tried to procure a statement from the Association's splinter group, 'The North Dakota Option,' but they were unavailable as they were ironing out the final points of their long awaited policy paper, 'Trans Fats: What Would Jesus Do?' "

"And now on to our featured story of the week, where we take you once again to our man in the fields of Iowa, Bob MacCackle. Bob? How are things out Ioway? Still idyllic? Still bucolic?"

"Well, Jim, it's winter after all, so we're still a couple months away from idyllic, and at least three or four months before we're anywhere close to bucolic. But as to the news....it was just a few days ago that this quiet farm country was stunned when an amazing design, seemingly unformed by human hands, appeared in the yard of Ma Hoyt. Local paranormal experts are on the scene and they're already comparing it to the crop circles found in England. They're calling it a 'Turtle Circle,' though, due to its shape and all....oh, and it's color, Jim. It's an amazingly vivid shade of green."

"That's fascinating, Bob. Are there any clues as to what may have produced this...this Turtle Circle?"

"That's a negatory, Jimbo. Great care has been taken to preserve the physical evidence, and calls have been made to high-level authorities."

"High level authorities? Just who are we talking about here, Bob?"

"Well, Jim, I don't like to drop names...but....word on the gravel roads is that no less than MEL GIBSON has been contacted about this phenomenon! *cough* He couldn't make it, though, since he's pretty busy....it's not easy shipping a bowling alley, ya know...."

"I'll take your word for it, Bob. Say....what's that you have in your hand, there....is that....is that a hat? *sounds of metallic rustling* A tin foil hat?!....Bah-ahb?"

"Uhhh....I don't know what your talkin' about, Jim, but this much I DO know...the answer is out there, somewhere....This is Bob MacCackle, from north of Des Moines.....I think...."

"Oh Bob...."

*fade to black*

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Small maple views sunrise

 

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(today's) Lessons from the Treadmill

• Katie Couric is still using the word "ubiquitous" every day. ("Katie, Sweetheart, get a THESAURUS!")
  
• NBC paid for Kevin Tibbles to take Gladiator lessons (this was actually from two days ago...it's just taken me this long to get over the trauma of seeing him in a tunic)
  
• Matt Lauer should definitely NOT go with the ovalish shaped sunglasses. This is ITALIA fer cryin' out loud, Matt. Thus, the bar is raised substantially in areas of art, fashion, and styles of sunglasses.
  
• (local news) Iowa is next to last of all surrounding states in terms of amount spent on tourism. In last place? Nebraska. *waves to Zippy* :-)
  

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The Coming of Snow

 

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Needham Update

Concerning that robbery, we learned in prayer meeting last night that two of the thieves had been caught, the two passports returned, as well as one camera and both cell phones.

The documents would have been costly and time consuming to replace, so everyone is quite thankful in that regard.

Your prayers for our missionaries are most appreciated.
 

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The Final Frontier....

 
....northwestern Iowa

And just what is that bright twinkle in the upper left-hand corner of the photo? Is it...

a) Venus?

b) Mars?

c) A star?

d) A FedEx spaceship to aid in delivery to the far reaches of northwestern Iowa?

e) The reflection off Ma's frozen fingers, taking pictures in near zero-degree temps?

The answer: probably "c," though "d" and "e" were credible options.

We can put a man on the moon, but Ma can't google "What did I see in the sky this morning?" and find out which star it was.

As to answer "d," Loren drove 350 miles yesterday to do his part for Fred Smith's dissertation paper-that-turned-into-a-company. 500 miles if you count his commute to and from work.

Loren called me as he was heading back to the station yesterday, "I delivered to the my farthest western town, so far...Marathon, Iowa. You'll have to look it up on the map."

I did check it out, and it is SO FAR away one could well nigh glimpse the Rocky Mountains. Possibly. Suffice it to say, things are pret-ty sparse west of Des Moines.

Loren doesn't mind this "far-out" route. He likes to drive and it gives him plenty of time to listen to Rush, Hannity and the rest of the gang.
_______________

Now, I ran across an interesting link that explains the new FedEx logo...

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Ma's Literary Corner

Time to cosy up to Ma's bookshelf and see what the ol' lady's been reading of late. I was hoping to touch on Stephen King and Ravi Zacharias, but got waylaid by too many quotes from....

......"The Bookseller of Kabul," by Åsne Seierstad--translated by Ingrid Christophersen, New York, (Back Bay Books, 2004)
-written by a woman allowed to live and observe in an Afghan household, this book will make every female shudder to think of being born in Afghanistan, or any other country under the thumb of religious fundamentalism. Given the terrain, the historical roots of tribal feudalism, wars and the more recent "You can't do anything" rule of the Taliban, it is hard to imagine this country pulling together under one government.

The eldest son, 17-year-old Mansur is allowed on a rare pilgrimage away from home:

Mansur opens the third Coke, empties it, and throws it elegantly out of the car. Better to litter a bomb crater than mess up the car. (page 140)

A view of the view from a burka perspecitve:

They walk on, and weave their heads around in all directions to see better. Burka women are like horses with blinkers: they can look only in one direction. Where the eye narrows, the grille stops and thick material takes its place; impossible to glance sideways. The whole head must turn; another trick by the burka inventor: a man must know what his wife is looking at. (page 85)

The shoes walk on in the dust. All around are brown sandals, dirty shoes, black shoes, worn shoes, once a pair of nice shoes, and pink plastic shoes with bows. Some are even white, a color forbidden by the Taliban, as their flag was white. The Taliban forbade shoes with solid heels; the sound of women walking could distract men. But times have changed and if it were possible to click-clack in the mud, the whole bazaar would resound with an arousing cacophony of click-clack. Now and again one catches a glimpse of painted toenails under the burka, yet another little sign of freedom. The Taliban forbade nail polish and introduced an import embargo. A few unlucky women had the tip of a finer or a toe cut off because they had committed an offense against the legal system. The liberation of women during the first spring following the fall of the Taliban has on the whole restricted itself to the shoe and nail-polish level, and has not yet reached further than the muddy edge of women's burkas. (page 88)

Sultan, the family patriarch, concerning the country's prospects:

The political situation worries Sultan. "Dangerous. The Northern Alliance was given too much power by Loya Jirga; there is no balance. Karzai is too weak; he is unable to rule the country. The best thing would be to have a government consisting of technocrats appointed by the Europeans. When we Afghans try to appoint leaders, everything goes wrong. Without cooperation the people suffer. And besides, our intellectuals have not returned. There is an empty space where they should have been." (page 286)

There are a few references to material of an adult nature, so I would give that caution to those with attending sensitivities. Nothing I wouldn't allow my college-agers to read. (like I have that in my power :-) Nothing of an indecorous nature, but rather bits and pieces that help to tell the story.

This book was a fascinating read though somewhat depressing. It gives a realistic glimpse into an Afghani household--an average household within the first year of the Taliban's leaving.

One could hope there has been some lessening of the rigid norms and bleak opportunities.....

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The Ma Side

 
Thought to be the first of its kind, a Turtle Circle was discovered late yesterday afternoon in rural Iowa..... 

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Optimistic News (for me, anyway)

Hey, maybe we aren't going to die in a gradual Global Warming Oven, after all.

And if that scientist is wrong, we can always count on the krill to do their part.

Young adults, take it easy. Don't try and peak too soon. Give those brains just a little more time.

Yep, forty-seven is lookin' better all the time....

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In honor of Coretta Scott King....

....two men of influence flame at President Bush. And here I thought a memorial service was where one remembered the life of the deceased. One could conclude:

-tearing down others is how they pay their respects

-they ran out of nice things to say of Mrs. King? Surely not.

-they thought she would approve

-they had their own agendas which took precedence over what they were there for

-it wasn't a memorial service, but rather, a political rally

-they didn't want President Bush there, so they railed against him....though they would have said much worse had he not attended....oh wait,....maybe that's WHY they are upset....Bush came, preventing them from saying what they really wanted...

-maybe they're not men of influence, they just WANT to be

Reverend Lowery must certainly take pride in the fact that he received a two-minute-long standing/cheering ovation. An emotional appeal to wrongs committed....(why am I thinking of Denmark?)......sounds like a sublime way to heal "the great racial divide," in America.

It wasn't all that long ago that people cheered for the Führer, too.

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Wire Surveillance

 

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It's a Big, Big Day Up at the Lodge

Finally having worked up the courage to potty-train the Bunny, I commenced with preparatory procedures:

• Pulling up the two large area rugs on the main floor. Puddles are so much easier to clean up if they are just that....puddles. Carpets have a shameful lack of puddlebility.
  
  The one in the living room was the hardest. When the older kids realized what I was about, they collected their school books and beat it for the upstairs. (thanks a lot, guys) Ethan remained and a very enthusiastic helper he was. (as a result, he was excused from part of his school and allowed outside to watch Farmer Frey load his semi with corn from the bin)
  
  There being three couches covering said rug, things got a bit tricky. But I found it is possible to prop the underside of one couch on your back, while lifting another and yanking part of a folded rug out while one leg has come off and the springs are poking out the bottom. (by the way, that was the leg of the couch that came off, not mine) Ethan was a big help, and Carolyn pitched in, too.
  
  I am definitely keeping those two kids in the will. Can't say as I've made up my mind about the older ones.....*sniff*
  
  The other rug came out quite easily, as there was only a table and my computer chair resting on it. (well, except for boxes of toys and baskets of clean clothes, which seem to double as drawers for certain people who never fold their laundry...)
  
  At last my Captain Kirk style chair can rest flat on the floor, instead of half-on, half-off the rug. No doubt this will have a positive influence to any future blog posts.
  
• Trevor is placed in the ceremonial training pants and given instruction that:
  -he cannot sit on any couches or soft chairs in the living room. He must park in the (wipeable) kitchen chair that has been placed there for his "disposal."
  -he gets an M&M if he does something in the potty. ("no, not for just sitting, you have to DO something....")
  
• Sit around and wait for the first accident

Carolyn is reading books to Trevor who alternately listens and nervously checks on his new garb.

*sigh*

My goal is to get him finished before his fourth birthday later this month.

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That Recurring Dream Thing

It happens six or seven times per year.....the dream that leaves me restless, frustrated and oh SOOOOOOOOoooooo glad to wake up.

No, I am not talking about missing the lottery by one number.

This is real life dreaming. To quote Dave Barry, "I am not making this up."

They all involve variations on the same theme....I am in college again, and have missed the first week or two of classes.

Last night it was Sociology. I was late for Soc. class and didn't even have the book. Striving to do my duty, I agreed to take a fellow classmate--who'd had the foresight to buy the book--to class in my car. She couldn't walk with me to the parking lot because of her bad back. Promising to swing by and pick her up, I carried her heavy book as I vainly searched for my vehicle.

Did I mention we were late?

All alone, I waded through what seemed like piles of loose sand, trudging onward. Once I was forced to venture down a dark alley, where questionable characters gave me shifty looks as they passed.

After plodding about for what seemed an interminable time, I remembered parking the car in the opposite direction.

Thankfully, that's when I woke up.

These dreams often involve the following:
-I have a paper due the next day which has not been started
-I've missed classes and I don't even know where they are
-I often have the younger kids with me and have to keep them quiet in class as I take notes

Now, I'm not one to attach any real significance to dreams and such. I realize your mind just reworks things of the past day, week and.....maybe the last 30 years. At least, that's what I learned in Psychology class. (apparently I got to that one...)

Loren thinks it's just symbolic of the rush of motherhood. With young children there is never the feeling that it's all under control....that everything necessary has been accomplished.

That certainly could be true. But I'm not asking for dream analysis or trying to find out how this can guide my life.

No, I'm much more of a realist.

I KNOW it's just aliens from outer space messing with my brain.

Probably an assignment for their Psych class.....

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Quotes from Trevor........

 
.....lover of teeth and competition.

To Jason, after vigorously (and playfully) attacking he who is 14 years his senior....
"Are you jealwous of my fighting?"

To Kendra.....
"Do you want to wace me?"
*laughing* "No, I'd beat you."
"OK...then I'll wace you!" 

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Frost-veiled sunrise

 

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Ma's Super Bowl Wrap-up

We only watch football once a year. It's mostly for the commercials and food-scoffing opportunities.

This year's game analysis includes the following:

Most bad ref calls: against the Seahawks

Best commercial: FedEx :-D (followed by several...uh....beverage spots--we laughed our socks off at the "Magic Fridge")

Family friendly alternative to half-time show: Andy Griffith episode--"Rafe Hollister's Hoedown"

Most interesting play: that gadget thing the Steelers did

Best Hair: Steeler Troy Polamalu

Hoyt who ate the most: Derek (growth spurt time)

Best time to start a diet: The day after the Super Bowl

And there you have it.

One more important observation must be made....whether it be the Super Bowl, the World Series, or whatever....any team we root for almost inevitably loses.

(go Democrats)

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Allô, Allô?

The plan being to call Sharon in France this afternoon, Ma needed to dust off a few French phrases for the purpose of appearing lingually sensitive when asking the host family to speak with el daughtero.

Reaching back into the musty memories of high school, I dredged up a few things I thought might be useful.....

-"Bonsoir! (smile broadly) Je suis la maman de Sharon Hoyt." (nervous grin)

-"Es-que la maison de Madame Joisiane? Je ne parle pas Français très bien. Je suis une Améicain très stupide." (with attempts at cheerfulness coupled with humility)

-"Es-que Sharon là?"

Armed with what I thought could get me through, I went outside for an international phone call consult with the hubby, who was working on the garage. After several trips back and forth, I discovered the correct calling code which would circumvent the operator "who you don't want, whatever you do, because that would cost us ten times as much."

*punching in of telephone number*

"Allô?"

"Allô?"

"Allô, allô?"

"Allô, allô?"

Having established that I could indeed say "hello," and that I couldn't be heard very well on the other end, I felt it was time to move on to something more daring...

*shouting*

"Je suis (uh...) la maman de Sharon. (ummmm......) Sharon Hoyt?" ("please, oh please let them understand me")

What followed was a rather humorous exchange of loudness whereby it was established that I spoke Français only a "petit peu" (little bit) and the woman on the other end spoke no English. Also, Sharon was not "ici." (here)

But, we were both pretty adept at "Allô," (hello)

I assumed this meant that Sharon was not back at the house, yet. But in reality, the study abroad program had given the wrong phone number to Sharon, and I had reached the mother of Sharon's host mom :-D

I hadn't worked out a French disengagement-from-the-phone scenario, but the very nice lady gave me the impression that she was going to tell someone...something, and hung up.

In a few moments Sharon called me, gave the corrected number and then I called her back so the host family wouldn't have to pay another phone bill.

Eventually, after narrowly averting an international incident, we had a lovely chat together on the phone. Sharon sounded quite chipper. She had been to church that morning where she met missionaries who'd attended Grace, (can't remember the name) as well as another Grace student. They invited her home for dinner.

She sounded in good spirits and ready to take her placement test tomorrow.

Now, I'd better practice a bit more on my French phrases, like...."So, what do you think of the war and all?"

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FYI

Sharon is in the initial adjustment period over in France, having gotten her student ID card and visited the University several times, but still waiting for classes to begin.

Her international calling card that she'd purchased does not seem to work. Something about a local code or something--she cannot dial out of the city.

I rather doubt we will catch her on IM, either, because the computers seem often busy at the school, and she is 7 hours ahead of us in time.

Monday, Sharon will take a placement test to see where she will be...mmmm.....placed in the language classes. Maybe the cultural part, too...I do not know. Her actual classes start a week after this coming Monday.

Her host family is very nice, though they are away most of the day. Since classes have not started yet, and the one other Grace student arrives next week, this past week has been rather LLLLLOOOOOOONNNNNNGGGGG for her. I doubt that she would mind a few extra prayers in her regard.

(one more thing....her email address I gave out to a few people might work better with a capital "S" and capital "H" in their respective places)

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Here we have a picture......

 
....taken from "The Tire Swing Collection" of that decidedly lame, amateur photo-essayist, Ma Hoyt.

At first glance it would appear that the photographer has captured a simple picture of the sun, using her children's tire swing as a ready-made border.

But those of us with learning and expertise--not to mention graduate, post graduate and post post graduate degrees--beg to differ. We can see right through her silly, simplistic picture, so to speak.

The "artist" dares to show the sun shining, as if to say, "All is right with the world," when of course we know it is not. There are wars, famines, natural disasters and other forms of capitalistic short-sightedness. She has NO BUSINESS putting up pretty pictures as if to make a mockery of all the human suffering in the world. Even the angle forces the viewer to "look up," which we find hypocritical and unnervingly sanguine.

While she may claim the main focus to be the sun, the experienced eye sees another subject with entirely different ramifications.

It is a van. A 15-passenger van. It is ugly, abhorrent, and quite frankly, we hates it. It is the symbol of all that is bad in the world. It guzzles vast quantities of gasoline and carries myriads of children. If our sources are to be believed, at one time, TEN CHILDREN traveled in this van.

The artist has purposely included this vehicle in the picture to flaunt her blatant abuse of the earth's dwindling natural resources. Coupling the exhaust of the van with the exhaust of the small humans creates a carbonic effect too terrible to contemplate. We mention it only in the interest of enviro-friendly artistic education, and the hopes that our "Artists in Search of Global Warming" grant will be renewed next year.

Aside from the sun and the van, the observer is left to contemplate the black tire swing and the blue sky. Black? Blue? Is this not a veiled reference to a bruise? Is not the artist promoting violence? We did not notice the subtle insinuation at first glance, but further contemplation brought about an awakening of our inner rage. An emotion we have done our best to quell with careful attention to soft words, quiet listening and copious amounts of chilled chai.

That this picture could induce such burning emotions from within our highly educated and meditative beings, is a sign that something is very, very wrong.

We can therefore give no honest praise or support to one who would post such incitive and inflammatory photographs.

----signed, CAROB (Concerned Artists for the Reduction Of Beauty)
 

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Lessons from the treadmill

Morning news shows have precious little to offer. But I suppose it beats getting dizzy and feeling nauseous all day.

Those are my two options when performing the daily ritual of treadmill torture.

I can't read more than a page-long devotional while walking, or I might have a repeat of the nastiness that occurred after I jumped on a trampoline, messed up my old lady sense of balance and spent the next day losing certain foods that had previously resided in my stomach. It might be a helpful way to cut down on the calories, but I wouldn't recommend it as a lifestyle choice.

This is all to explain my slumming with the morning news show, while striving to keep from gaining back even more weight than what I'd lost before the last time I gained.

With network TV being the only choice, it was either Charlie Gibson and his ABC pals dressed up in football jerseys, or Matt and Katie "On the Road to Torino." What with the Nightly News feature, "The Long Road Back From Katrina," NBC has a significant transportation motif.

CBS doesn't come in very clear at our house and....well....does anybody even watch their morning show....?

And so, what I learned this MORNING was....

• Katie Couric's favorite random I-am-just-so-smart word is, "ubiquitous." In fact, I am certain she used this word yesterday AND today. Umm....isn't that a breach of broadcasting protocol or something? Even Matt was ribbing her for the repeated word usage. What is less certain is whether or not she knows what "ubiquitous" means.
  
• If you buy 3 Hallmark cards, you can purchase a CD of Michael Bublé for only $7.95. (Of course, if you go straight to Amazon.com, you can get one for about that same price, without having to enter a Hallmark store and risk knocking over expensive figurines. Say, did you know that even if you type in the accent over the "e," many sites will pop up without it--making me think of Michael Bubble?)
  
• When flirting, it is always best to be sincere. People are more apt to believe you if they think you are flirting from the heart. I learned this from the "Flirtologist" whom Katie interviewed. Sadly, the expert's name escapes me, but they wired a female with mike and earphones, set her loose in a supermarket and then offered helpful up-to-the-second hints as she went along. I took careful mental notes so as to instruct my children what NOT to do.

Happily, my 2 miles of exercise were completed before having to endure the sight of a whole lotta guys proposing to their whole lotta girlfriends. Live.

That was a close call.

I wish there was a way to get news, news and more news. No commentary, no fluffy interviews. Just news.

I guess it's just too much to ask.....

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Distressed Sunset

 

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An Encounter

It was supposed to be a relaxing family outing.

When you are missionaries, these opportunities don't come along very often. People are always dropping by unexpectedly and that is just fine. You are there to serve others in His name, after all. If not, you'd be back in the states posting on blogs or something.

But as part of daily missionary life, friends, neighbors, and visiting mission teams often stop by, and it is the most natural thing, for it is your heart's desire to minister. Food, drink and conversation are always at hand for that very purpose.

And then, once in a great while, it is simply good to get away--to be with just your family and find refreshment in each other and a change of scenery.

That was the plan this past week for Tom and Barb Needham, and their five children still living at "home" in Cameroon, Africa.

Driving along the coast approximately 250 miles from their mountaintop home, the missionary family chose to pull off north of Limbe. A beautiful stretch of beach lay nearby, across from a palm tree plantation.

The beach was empty and Tom, Barb and the children were enjoying the vista, watching the waves and waters. It was a beautiful time to share together as a family.

And then came a sight which was not so beautiful.....a group of young men approaching, with machetes and knives.

Our missionary friends are told to sit down under a group of trees. Tom's wallet is taken along with the key to the car. One man with a machete guards the family while the others rifle through the vehicle. Tom prays for the Lord's protection for his family, and then tells the nervous young man about Christ and His sacrifice on the cross. A chorus of "Jesus Loves Me" is sung by the family.

Suddenly, the men all run off into the palm trees across the road. Their booty includes all of Tom's personal information, two passports, two cell phones, two cameras, a Bible and hundreds of dollars in cash. The Needhams are left with 30 cents. And the car. The car is still there with the key lying on the seat.

There is a visit to a nearby police station and then Tom and an accompanying gendarme return to follow the men's trail into the palms. A pile of discarded things is found and the hunt continues until the path meets up with a another road. They return to pick up a few inconsequential items that had been tossed aside. Also found is Kathy's Bible, for which they are very thankful.

Police reports and cancelled vacation plans are the order of the day. Refuge is found for the night in the Baptist Girls' School in Limbe. Tom makes a phone call to Baptist missionary Dr. Dennis Palmer in Bamenda, who arranges for transportation funds.

Thirty cents will only go so far, when 250 miles stretch between you and your destination.

Everyone returned safely home. There was fear during the ordeal, but all of the family members remained calm. It appears none have suffered lasting effects from the trauma.

And one more thing.....their Bible reading that morning included this verse:

"The Lord will give strength unto his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace." Psalm 29:11

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The Ma Side

 
Punxsutawney Phil yawned and peered out of his hole. Noting the predominance of blue sky, his head swiveled around until his gaze met with a weepy, forlorn cloud. Despite his longing for the end of winter, Phil's rodent heart went out to the confused bag of water droplets. It looked sad. It looked lonely. It looked like it needed a great big dose of self-esteem that only a hairy feller of his maturity and weather prognosticating stature could grant.

The lumbering groundhog retreated into his den for another six weeks. It was the right thing to do. It made sense from a humane and ecocentric point of view.

Besides, he had cable....

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The Jim-Bob Report: Dateline Iowa (c/o D.C.)

"Good evening. This is Jim McDonald, coming to you from Washington D.C. Tonight's report will be an analysis of the president's State of the Union Address. The network tried to get Michael Beschloss, but he was still covering the Grammy Nominations, so we have acquired the next best person, my friend and colleague, Bob MacCackle from Des Moines."

"Bob? How was the president's speech received out in the heartland?"

"Well, Jim, there were a lot of folks listening to President Bush last night, due in no small part to the scarcity of televised college wrestling. If they really want to pump his ratings next time, I'd advise them to pick a night other than Fox's American Idol....."

"OK, Bob. That gives us an idea of the number of viewers, but what is your evaluation of how the president came across to the American public.....was he combative? Inclusive? Defensive? What's your best guess, Bob?"

"Politics is a game of subtlety, Jim. And judging by the president's attire, he was reaching out to the Democrats."

"His attire? How so, Bob?"

"You see, Jim, President Bush was wearing a blue tie last evening. This is seen as a clear conciliatory gesture by the administration toward the 'blue states.' He's reachin' out, man....he's reachin' out.....*sniff*.....It' just so beautiful...."

"Steady Bobbo, steady. Now, I might be mistaken, but didn't I see Vice President Cheney and Speaker Hastert both wearing red ties? What is your perspective on that part of the color equation, Bob?"

"Well Jim, we are still running the numbers here, but it is thought that the two red-tie-clad-men directly in back of President Bush were an appeal to the Republican Party's Conservative base. Still, with a blue tie out in front, most historians feel that would take precedence over the two red ties behind. At least that's what the cloakroom attendant I talked to said...."

"And Bob, was it my imagination, or did the vice president have on a different shade of red?"

"I'm glad you mentioned that, Jim. Vice President Cheney was obviously wearing a brighter shade of red and crimson--with vibrant scarlet overtones--which would seem to be a blatant appeal to the younger, wilder side of the party. Speaker Hastert on the other hand, was going for the darker burgundy and claret hues which would indicate a renewed claim to the 'old-men/old money' arm of the party. Either that, or they forgot to call each other ahead of time...."

"That is simply fascinating, Bob. But what can you tell us about the combined houses of Congress? Were there any insights to be gleaned from the apparel of the listening representatives and senators? What about Senator Hillary Clinton, for instance?"

"Jim! You promised you wouldn't bring that up! AAAARRRGGGHHHHHH!......and I was just beginning to get over the nightmares.....*clunk*....."

"Bob? Bob?.....*turns back to audience*.....Ha, ha, that guy is such a kidder....*cough*....Well, that's all we have time for, ladies and gentlemen. Tune in next week, when Bob MacCackle interviews Ma Hoyt concerning the new James Bond movie.... Can they make the picture without a villain and a female lead? Is it not hypocrisy that the newly picked James Bond opposes hand guns in real life? And, what's not to love about Sean Connery's accent?"

"All this and more, on the next edition of the Jim-Bob Report. This is Jim McDonald saying,

Goodnight."

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Sharon in France

 
This is daughter Sharon and Tiffany, taken last Sunday after Sharon arrived in Paris. She was collected by some lovely folks she knows there and taken to their apartment to rest up before catching her train to Dijon.

I say "lovely" but I have never met the hospitable young people. But they have to be pretty special to take care of ma chère Sharon.

Thanks to Kendra, (no relation :-) who commented on Sharon's blog, leading me to Drew and Catey's blog, from where I swiped the picture.

They don't call me MaHoyt007 for nothing.

:-D

(by the way, all the aforementioned are now in the the will.....)

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