Getting Back in the Groove of Home
I'm home.

I still occasionally find myself singing A B C D E F G. . ., Sydney's favorite song on her Leap Start Learning Table. I'm sure I heard it several hundred times while in Idaho, but each time was a delight as she smiled and danced along with the catchy little tune.

Who needs coffee when a bright eyed little sweetie like this wants to play at seven in the morning?


The Michigan reality is yardwork. There is still much to clean up at Violet Acres and we're working on it old people style - a little each day.

Many little spring flowers are in bloom including my favorite, the blue violets. They grow wild on our property. There's a large patch in the west wooded yard and other scattered "volunteer" plants here, there, and everywhere.

The bluebird eggs hatched yesterday. It's been too chilly to open the box and take pictures, so there are none.

H is for Hands


One of the most memorable moments of my life was being present for the birth of my first granddaughter, Kimberly Louise, in 1995.

Seeing my own daughter give birth to her daughter was awesome, but the very very best part happened about ten minutes later.

Daughter Heather still had post-birth work to do and she called for new dad Tony to come be with her, meaning I got to hold the new born Kimmy. There was a rocking chair in the room. While we sat together and rocked, she grabbed my finger. Ten minutes old and she grabbed my finger.

I know babies do this all the time, but this was MY granddaughter and, therefore, very different and special. Instant bonding. Instant love.

This picture was taken after Kimmy went home. Her little hand in mine. I love it.

I had a mouse pad made from this picture and used it at work for years until the picture wore off.


It was almost ten years later before I was grandma a second time. Granddaughter Sydney Anne was born to my son John and his wife Anne 2000 miles away in Idaho.

I missed the birth, but four weeks later I flew west to meet my new granddaughter.

As you can see, the meeting was a success. Sydney decided her paternal grandmother was OK and gave me the sealing finger hug on our relationship.


Last August I had the pleasure of bringing Kimmy on her first plane trip.

Two of the most important people in my life met for the first time.

The tanned hands of nine year old Kimmy held the baby pink hands of four month old Sydney and declared her an OK cousin.


Writing from Idaho where I'm having a wonderful time with the one year old hands of Sydney Anne.

Countdown to Idaho
Only two more days before I wake up before dawn and head for the airport and Idaho.

I'm in triage mode:

1. Has to be done before I leave - laundry, packing, income tax (done!), clean out purse, books from library, organize sock project, go to bank for cash, pack, post H for the ABC Along.
   
   
2. Would be nice to have done before I go - clean kitchen, clean bathroom, vacuum house, finish raking out gardens.
   
   
3. I'll think about this when I get home - most of the housework, yard work, FLAK, Barbara Shawl.

According to the National Weather Service 5 day forecast for Coeur d'Alene, it's going to be about ten degrees colder there than here in Michigan. The Idaho nights are dipping below freezing and the Idaho high temps are in the 40s and 50s.

Son John and Daughter-in-law Anne have planned a fun week for my visit. They're going to be busy doing things and I'm going to babysit. I'm trying to remember what it's like to feed a one year old. It's been a long time.

I can hardly wait. Now, what do I have to do next?

Updates on Gail, Sunny, Bird Nests, and Rabbit
Gail's Christmas Socks
Back in February I wrote

Gail the dog trainer has a birthday the same day as John and I'm trying to decide if I'm going to knit a pair of socks for the occasion. She got a pair for Christmas which I've never seen her wear, even though she told me she loves wearing them. Was she just being polite? I see her twice a week. The socks should have made an appearance by now. It would give me great pleasure to knit another pair of socks for her, but I don't want to give her something she doesn't really like.

Her birthday was March 18. By the first of March, I still hadn't seen her wearing the gift socks, so I sighed and bought her a book for her birthday.

Then she started wearing the socks. She wore them three times in the two weeks before her birthday. I was so pleased. And now I know what to give her for Christmas next year.

Sunny
Two weeks ago Sunny had back spasms was diagnosed with spondylosis, excessive bone production that occurs between spinal vertebrae in dogs. Two of her lumbar vertebrae are all ready fused together and her entire spine is showing excess calcium deposits.

Sunny is off drugs now and we're working on training her to go up and down the pet stairs instead of jumping on and off the furniture.

Gail the dog trainer had a dog with spondylosis and let me know she can help with good advice on what Sunny should not do. We've had several talks about Sunny and doggy school.

Sunny loves doggy school. When Sunny and Pappy see the treat bag come out they know it's doggy school night for one of them. They sit and watch until I tell them which one is going. The one who gets named jumps around in excitement. The other one goes off to the back room and pouts. It's totally unacceptable that Sunny never gets a turn to go to doggy school.

Fortunately, Sunny's favorite part of doggy school is the obedience, so we're going to switch her out of Advance Hobby/Agility into an obedience class. Tomorrow (Tuesday) night will be our first time to attend.

Bird Nests
It was 59 degrees today. The swallows have returned, the black flies have hatched, and I officially pronouce it spring in SW Michigan.

Mother bluebird peeked out the nest box hole at us during the first morning dog walk. Later I checked and there was the first blue egg. She'll be laying one a day now until she has four or five.

The Mourning Dove nest has been abandoned. Either a predator got into it or the cold killed the naked babies.

Mourning Doves are stupid, clumsy birds. I know most people like them. I like them too, but they're still stupid and clumsy. This pair got confused about nesting season and did it a month early. I'm sure they'll try again.

Jill asked . . .

Any chance you can point out the Mourning Dove nest? Is it really that pitiful stick or two under the bird?

Yes. That's it.

Just spotted this nest on the shelf of an old, unused satellite dish way out in the back field.

It's a collection of coarse weeds and dead, dry leaves. Looks like it would blow away if I sneezed on it. It's just as pitiful as the Mourning Dove nest.

I'm not familiar with this type of nest and I haven't seen the associated birds so I don't know what they might be. If I see them return to this nest I'll report.

Anybody know what kind of nest this is? Want to guess?


The Weight Loss Rabbit on Stitches of Violet Sidebar
In my April 1 post I promised

Next Wednesday I will weigh myself, reset the rabbit if necessary, and see if I can hop him along a bit before I leave for Idaho.

I kept that promise and was delighted to see that I have not gained any of the lost weight back. The rabbit is exactly in the right place.

I do admit to being a bit challenged in finding the motivation for the last five pounds. I'm working on it.

G is for Girl's Athletic Association


1959. I was 14 years old, and an introverted, unathletic high school freshman. My extroverted, athletic friend (the one in the yellow prom dress) talked me into joining the Girl's Athletic Association (GAA).

Why? Because if we acquired 15 athletic points we earned a ticket to the GAA formal dance and we - the girls - got to ask the boy of our choice to escort us.

Unfortunately, earning GAA points required doing athletic things.

Horseback riding was on the GAA list. My friend lived on a dairy farm and had horses. She assured me that three hours on a horse for three GAA points was "no sweat".

I had never ridden a horse before. She'd been riding horses since she was old enough to sit up, so it didn't occur to her teenage brain that I might need a few pointers. I got on that horse and before I could ask what to do next, the horse took off and jumped the fence.

I didn't fall off. She was a little more helpful after I threatened to go home, and we managed to ride for three hours. The next day I was so sore I could hardly walk. Not a good thing, because I had marching band practice.

I was too stiff to raise my knees when marching 8 to 5 (eight steps to 5 yards), so the band instructor pulled me out of formation and yelled at me for having a "tight skirt". He never did let me explain. The skirt was not tight, my muscles were tight. Stupid man.

It was all worth it, though. That's me in the purple formal. I picked a good looking date, didn't I?

Early Spring
As mentioned in my last post, our mild winter didn't translate into an early spring.

We haven't had many mild days and, as you can see in the picture, we don't have much green in the landscape yet.

Strangely, though, the bluebirds have their nest build in the nest box. This is the earliest I've ever seen a bluebird nest.

No eggs yet.


Here is another nest that is way early. According to the Michigan Department of Natural Resources

"The mourning dove reproductive cycle begins with egg laying in late April/early May."

So what is with all this early nesting while it's still cold?

This nest is a little above eye level in a large pine tree at the back of our five acres.

Mom and dad mourning dove take turns sitting on the eggs, so they're never unattended. They've been incubating for several weeks now. We should have little ones soon. Hope they don't get snowed on.


The February Gold daffodils are my smallest and earliest to bloom. In Michigan they never bloom in February.

I expect flowers the first week in April. Only a few have blossomed.

Unlike the nesting birds, the flora is a little behind schedule.


Sunday I stopped on my way home from church and bought a much needed new rake.

Monday, the first time I used it, the rake fell off the handle. I was annoyed. I jammed the rake back on the handle and kept raking.

I debated returning the rake, but didn't want to make a special trip into civilization just for that.

I tried to use it again. It fell apart and I finally noticed a screw taped on the back. It's an assemble-it-yourself rake! Whoever would have guessed? There was no clue on the label. There was no clue in the store.


Excuse me while I sound like an old lady.

In the good old days, you could go to a hardware store and buy a rake that came in one piece.

This morning I stopped at an independent hardware store. The owner told me he stopped stocking rakes because everyone bought them cheap at the big chains and he couldn't compete.

I would be willing to pay a little more for a rake if I didn't have to assemble it. Am I the only one?

Spring Things
Doing my income taxes when I know I'm not going to get a refund is completely bothersome.

Just because we had a mild winter does not mean that spring is going to come early. Warm (over 50 degrees F) spring days have been very rare so far this year. And today isn't one of them.

On Wednesday of this week, at two minutes and three seconds after 1:00am in the morning, the time and date will be 01:02:03 04/05/06. That won't ever happen again.

Also on Wednesday of this week, Granddaughter Sydney Anne turns one year old. That will never happen again, either.

Her party was last Saturday.

She had her own little cake just in case she wanted to make a mess with it.


She also got lots of presents. One of her favorites was this red wagon from her grandparents in Michigan.

I think she likes it.


For those who want to know more, Dad's blog post about the party is here.

For those who want to see thirty more pictures of the party, there is a Picture Trail album here.

Let Me Answer

Linda asked . . .

Have you thought about those doggy steps?

After checking three different pet stores and finding nothing, I came home and ordered these steps.

If I had read Shelly's and Bliss's comments first, I would have ordered a ramp instead. The vet suggested steps, and I didn't think to consider anything else.

Sunny's x-rays showed spondylosis, excessive bone production that occurs between spinal vertebrae in dogs. Two of her lumbar vertebrae are all ready fused together and her entire spine is showing excess calcium deposits.

Even when her current acute back problem is healed, her jumping and twisting will continue to be restricted.

Much to my sadness, there will be plenty of opportunity to install ramps for her.


Birdsong asked . . .

When is the next grandbaby visit scheduled?

April 19 for a week.

I also have plane tickets for another week starting June 16. Mom/Great-grandma is going with me for that trip.

In August, I'd like to fly into some city west of Idaho and do some driving and sight seeing of beautiful Washington while working my way east to Idaho. Or maybe fly into some city in Montana and drive west to Idaho. I'd like to keep it around 200 miles from Post Falls/Coeur d'Alene. Any suggestions?

I know this is not the knitterly thing to say but seeing God's creation is my primary reason for doing this, not yarn store visits.


Someone asked (but they were too polite to leave a comment). . .

When are you going to lose those last 5 pounds and get the bunny on your Stitches of Violet sidebar through those flowers?

It was so easy to stop dieting and it's so hard to think about starting again.

I think I've maintained my loss, but I haven't weighed myself in several months.

Next Wednesday I will weigh myself, reset the rabbit if necessary, and see if I can hop him along a bit before I leave for Idaho.

The Mattress is Down
Veterinarians have a strange sense of humor. Here's a joke they tell over and over again with a perfectly serious face:

"Your dog will be feeling much better by tomorrow. Keep him/her quiet for two weeks."

Sunny, our little dog who loves to play violent fetch and tug games and jump on and off us and the furniture, hurt her back.

After Sunny had a cortisone type shot and was supplied with muscle relaxant and anti-inflammatory drugs, I heard the vet joke.

Then the kindly vet elaborated on the seriousness of the situation even giving me written instructions that say

"Restrict Activity for 14 days."

It was horrible to see Sunny in pain with her back seized up and so inflamed she had a temperature. I'm grateful that Sunny is well medicated and feeling better.

Now, where are the instructions on how to keep her quiet?

One thing we've done is to pull the mattress off the box spring and onto the floor. Creaky old Bob and I are having a difficult time getting in and out of bed, but it keeps Sunny from jumping on and off. We wouldn't have it any other way.

Something to Smile About

Granddaughter Sydney answers the question, "Where is your head?"

What a smart girl.

Only three more weeks and I'm flying across the country to give her a big kiss and ask her where her head is.

F is for the Fifties



The Fifties were my grade school years.

One of my most memorable summers was the year a painted turtle (not the one in the colored picture) wandered into the yard and my parents gave me a large, old washtub so I could keep it for a pet. I arranged the tub interior into a mini habitat with "land" and "water". The turtle seemed to be content in it. But, how would you know with a turtle?


Determining the turtle's sex was beyond me and anyone else I knew. I decided it was male and named him Prince Albert Red Rattler just because I liked the sound of the name and thought it suited him.

Prince Albert ate worms. The worm needed to be in the water, where it would wiggle. Prince Albert would catch the motion out of the side of his eye and plod down to the pond area of the washtub. After watching the worm for a few seconds, he dipped down in the water and slurped it up like sucking down a piece of spaghetti.

The neighborhood kids and I spent the summer digging worms and feeding them to Prince Albert. He ate everything we gave him.

One afternoon we decided to see if he could eat 100 worms. It took the better part of the afternoon to dig, feed, and count. Yes, Prince Albert could and did eat 100 worms.

In the fall it was time to let him go at a creek in the country. (This was my parents idea, not mine.) Prince Albert was so fat he couldn't get his shell closed. I hope he buried himself quickly in the mud for his winter nap before some predator ate him. I'm sure he didn't starve during hibernation.

For the record: We did not live in a dump. Dad was adding two bedrooms onto the house and sister Doris and I managed to pose right in front of his construction trash pile.

In the spring of 1959, when I was fourteen years old, I graduated from eighth grade complete with nylons, low heels, and a white graduation dress.

Under that skirt was what we called a 500 yard crinoline. It supposedly had 500 yards of nylon net sewn in gathered layers, each layer with more yards than the previous.


We washed, starched, and ironed our 500 yards of nylon net in an attempt to get the fullest skirt we could manage.

The crinoline was worn to school on days I wasn't wearing a "tight skirt". Girls were only allowed to wear slacks on Friday. They had to be dress slacks with an ironed crease. No jeans allowed.

Each time it was worn, the crinoline hung limper. I had to repeat the starch and iron routine often. Only someone young and silly would do that much work to wear something so ungainly and scratchy. And I was that in the 50s.

Spring One, Winter Zero
Spring and winter spent the day duking it out in SW Michigan.

Winter kept up a continuous snowfall.

Spring fought back by raising the temperature above freezing so the snow was unable to stick and accumulate.

This is a morning picture of the wet snow settled on the tree branches. It was beautiful, especially since it was so warm the snow melted off the roads and I didn't have to cancel a lunch date with a friend.

By this afternoon, more snow had melted than remained. Even though the snow kept falling, it was a losing battle for winter. Rah.

The only blizzard type snow we've had all season was the storm on the day before Thanksgiving when Mom and I were trying to fly to Virginia.

Most Michiganders are still expecting a heavy snowfall this year. March isn't too late and we can't believe we're going to get off so easy this winter.

If we do get a big snow, it will be short lived. The ground has started to warm, the days are longer, and spring is fighting hard to kick winter right out the door.

E is for Emerging


10 am on March 2, I went out into the cold, dreary yard to see if I could find little hints of green, little harbingers of Emerging spring.

In this picture the small area of lawn that we have is on the left, in front of the creek. It is dormant and brown.

The unmowed acreage is on the far side of the creek. The trees are bare. The landscape is almost totally without any pretty colors.

We live on a wooded five acres. The oaks shed their leaves after it's too cold to rake so the leaves don't get cleaned up until spring.

I needed to push oak leaves aside in order to check for Emerging greenery.

There are naturalized daffodils scattered here, there, and everywhere. They are the hardest and most dependable sign that spring is actually going to happen.

They don't let oak leaves stop them from their quest for sunlight. The daffodil leaves are strong enough to chop right through the dead leaves and keep on growing.


In an almost sunny part of the yard, the daylilies are Emerging.

They are anemic looking from being hidden under the oak leaves. The next mild day we have, I'll get the rake out and uncover the shoots so they can get some sun.

There is snow forecast for this afternoon. For today, the daylilies are probably happiest buried out of the weather.


I never would have thought to look for sedum in early March until Kim in the mountains of New Hamshire showed her sedum heads poking out of the earth.

Shoving a few oak leaves aside (do you see a pattern here?), there they are! Little sedum plants Emerging from the frozen ground. They don't bloom until August, so they're really getting a head start on the season.

5 Quirks
Lisa tagged me with the 5 Quirks meme.

List 5 quirks about yourself.

This should be easy because I have many many quirks. Unfortunately, I've had them for so many years I don't think of them as quirks. I had a hard time coming up with five - at least 5 I will admit to in public.

Thinking Bob, husband for 30+ years, should have no problem coming up with five of my quirks, I asked for his help. Quirky minds think alike. He said he was so used to my quirks he couldn't think what they might be.

We had some fun today thinking and talking about quirks. Thanks Lisa.

And here are five to meet the requirement:

1. I'm superstitious about numbers and have a strong preference for even numbers. 22 is my favorite.
   
   
2. When I'm annoyed, I hum. Bob has trouble understanding this. He thinks I hum when I'm happy although I've told him many times that the opposite is true. Fortunately, I don't have a quick temper or he would have been beheaded by now.
   
   
3. I believe that Pappy understands a large percent of what I say to him. Not only that, but he's a very vocal dog and tries to talk back. Really.
   
   
4. I'm moderately phobic about driving or riding on a road with water on both sides. It doesn't bother me a bit if I'm on a bridge above the water, only when the water and road are on the same level.
   
   
5. I peel a grapefruit and eat it like an orange. Why not? It is like an orange.

If anyone needs a quick blog post because they'd rather be knitting than posting this weekend, you're tagged.

D is for Dumbbell

Hobby Advanced class at Briarwood Dog Training has started working with doggy dumbbells again. My dogs have been though the dumbbell training before. They are still flunking.

The dumbbell forced retreive is supposed to be a fun thing for the dogs. Some of the dogs who have learned how to do it in previous rotations of the class do appear to enjoy it.

The desired sequence of events goes like this:

• Dog sits on left side of owner about six feet in front of a hurdle.
  
• Owner tosses dumbbell over the hurdle and says "Take it."
  
• Dog enthusiastically jumps over the hurdle and takes the dumbbell in his/her mouth.
  
• Dog jumps hurdle with dumbbell in mouth to return to owner.
  
• Dog sits in front of owner and gives his/her owner the dumbbell.

Take your fingers out from under my chin so I can spit this thing out!


The sequence of events when Sunny does the dumbbell exercise:

• We don't bother standing in front of the hurdle.
  
• I stick the dumbbell in front of Sunny's nose and say "Take it."
  
• Sunny ignores me.
  
• I gently push the dumbbell into Sunny's mouth.
  
• I hold Sunny's chin up for about thirty seconds so the dumbbell won't fall out.
  
• Sunny agrees to this because she is being bribed by little pieces of turkey dog.
  
• After two tries at holding the dumbbell in her mouth, Sunny insists it's time to go out for a potty break.

The theory is that I will need to spend less and less time holding up Sunny's chin as she learns to hang on to the dumbbell without assistance. Gail the trainer thinks Sunny is making progress. We have practiced at home this past week, and I'm spending just as much time holding up Sunny's chin as I was last week. Sunny is starting to like the practice more, though, because she can guilt trip me into a great long game of tug afterward.

When Sunny's class did dumbbell training two years ago, she hated it so much that I used dumbbell time to take her outside for a potty break. This time around we're going to stick with it and see if we can get to the place where it's fun for her.

Pappy hates the dumbbell even more than Sunny hates the dumbbell.

I would do almost anything for you - except this.


The sequence of events when Pappy does the dumbbell exercise:

• We don't bother standing in front of the hurdle.
  
• I get down on the floor and secure him between my legs.
  
• I make all kinds of encouraging noises to let him know this is fun.
  
• He clamps his jaws shut. Very tightly shut.
  
• I pry his mouth open while he's playing keepaway with his head.
  
• I insert the dumbbell and hold his mouth shut around it while I continue making encouraging noises.
  
• When I can spare a hand, I rub his chest to calm him down.
  
• Pappy tries to spit the dumbbell out and run under the nearest piece of furniture.
  
• After about thirty seconds, I let him drop the dumbbell.
  
• I get very exited and feed him multiple little pieces of turkey dog.
  
• Pappy is excited too because maybe we're done with this exercise.

Sounds cruel, doesn't it? I feel like an unfit doggy mother everytime we do this.

All the activities that Pappy now thinks are wonderful fun started out with him balking, so I'm not ready to give up yet.

Fortunately, dumbbells only take about ten minutes of the two hour class. If things don't look better soon, I may teach Pappy that dumbbell time makes a good potty break time. Stay tuned.

Saturday Lunch
This afternoon the eldest three generations of women in my family met for lunch at the Oakwood Bistro. Granddaughter Kimmy was elsewhere with her dad. We missed seeing her, but it was nice to have an adult lunch.

Daughter Heather (in picture) treated for a belated my birthday lunch. Our family is not always prompt about things like that. We do things when work schedules permit.

Oakwood Bistro is an award winning restaurant. Its creme brulee is the best I've ever tasted. I don't want to know how many calories it has, but today it didn't have any because it was a birthday treat.


The other purpose for the lunch was delivery of professional pictures taken of John, Anne, and Sydney in Idaho.

The pictures were framed, wrapped securely in bubble wrap, and all sent to my house for Michigan distribution.

Here you see Mom (my mother, Heather and John's grandmother) trying to liberate the large picture marked for her. Heather is doing the same in the top picture.

Everyone loved their pictures. Thanks John and Anne and Sydney.

C is for Cosmetology


I graduated from high school with a math scholarship to Olivet College. To my 18 year old mind in 1963, this was not a cool thing.

What did a girl do with a math degree? And, since it was 1963 when girls did not do much, no one could answer that question for me. When they tried, it came out sounding like “develop your mind and find a husband.” Surely there were easier ways to find a husband than four years of college math.

I enrolled in the fall session of Wright Beauty Academy to become a Cosmetologist.

Nine months later I passed the state test and went to work for the best hair styling saloon in Battle Creek, Michigan. Hair Styles by Ferrari.

It was the decade of beehives, backcombing, French twists, flips, and lots of hairspray. Shampooing once a week was the norm.

In 1964 a haircut was $2, a shampoo and set was $2.50, and a perm was $10. Since we worked on commission, we tried to sell the more expensive perms for $15, but most of the ladies (our license did not allow us to work on men) thought the $10 perms were just fine.

I had red hair with the crown bleached out platinum. With the help of color rinses on the bleached part, I could have all kinds of outrageous color combinations.

In this Christmas picture, the top of my hair was a pale green color.


When I got married in February, 1965, I had a temporary auburn rinse put on the bleached hair. Since I was paying for expensive wedding pictures, I thought I might want to look as normal as possible so my kids wouldn't laugh at me in the decades to come.

When my daughter sees the wedding pictures, she is too busy laughing at the hairstyle to even notice the color.

Non-Winter in Michigan
It's January in Michigan. This is the time of year I should be wowing you with pictures of huge snow drifts and beautiful snow covered trees and bushes. Instead, we have this.

The little snow we've had melts because the ground isn't frozen and the daytime temps are above freezing. Over the weekend, the temps were in the 50s (F). Completely weird.

Last week I saw a pair of bluebirds sitting on a nestbox. They aren't even supposed to be in Michigan in January.

It will be interesting to see what the rest of the winter is like. That is if you can call this winter. It's not like any winter I've ever seen before.


Update on Glory for Those Who Care
Glory had her tube removed on Saturday. Two vets looked at it, and I could tell they didn't really want to take it out, but they didn't want to leave it in anymore either.

They reasoned that the ear had grown together as much as possible with the tube still in, and that the tube had to come out for more healing to occur. They didn't give me confidence that everything was going to be OK, but so far everything is OK.

Each day I'm a little more optimistic that it's going to heal without any more surgery.

Isn't this where I knock on wood?

B is for Bible . . .


Yes, I write in my Bible.

Maybe, since I don't usually mention my faith on Seasons of Violet, I should back up and start this post again -

Yes, I do have a well used Bible. And, I write in it.

I believe the Bible is God's message to me about His nature, His Son, His love, and what I'm supposed to be doing and learning during this lifetime. The more I read it and study it, the more I love it and believe it is the Word of God.

I've been studying the Bible for eleven years now, and have come to the opinion that none of the religious sects and denominations have the total picture. This makes it very difficult to join a church or join a Bible class where they think they know all the answers. I do it, thought, because it helps my study of the Bible to hear others talk about it. I respect my groups by being quiet about the places I disagree.


I've been attending a Bible Church for eleven years. I've done five years of Bible Study Fellowship and two years of Community Bible Study. All three are non-denominational in-depth Bible study organizations where you bring your own Bible.

This is my Bible case. It has pockets inside to hold my Bible in place and a good strong exterior to protect it from the elements. In the midwest there are many Bible toters and most of us use a case. I've had this one for eleven years. It's aging well and I have no plans to replace it.

My Bible needs to last the rest of my earthly life, because I don't want to give it up. I love turning to a passage and finding notes and thoughts that I wrote five or ten years ago.

Some of my very favorite passages are left completely unmarked. They speak to me in different ways and I want them to be fresh every time I visit them.

Happy Birthday to Me
I've never understood why most people are hesitant to tell their age. How old we are is an important attribute of who we are.

Today is my 61st birthday. That means I am starting my 62ed year of life.

It's important for me to say that, to accept that, and to plan the rest of my life with that in mind.

As for the picture, it makes me laugh. Here's hoping it gives you a chuckle, too.