Strawberries!

Today my mom decided it was time to go strawberry picking so we packed up our van with the six of us, containers for strawberries, and a bag of crackers for on the way home.
We drove until we came to a sign that read "Grandpa's U-Pick Strawberries" After weighing our containers we went out to pick our strawberries. Now, just before we went I told my mom that all I remembered about picking strawberries was that it was hot and back-breaking because you have to hunch over the tiny strawberry plants that are about two inches tall. Personally, I thought I spent more time hunched over, making sure my pants don't fall down than actually picking the strawberries. Anyway, we went up and down the rows filling our tupperwares with strawberries. Emily and Ashley's attention span lasted for at least five minutes and then they busied themselves walking up and down the rows eating strawberries. Finally we finished picking 16 pounds of juicy strawberries. We brought them home, ate some lunch and then began cutting each and every strawberry. As you can see we finally finished with this...
...and this too, which didn't make it into the first picture


And then we ended up with several pints of jam.


We have also frozen three quarts. So now we're taking a quick break before we plunge back into it!
Oh, and did I mention that on Thursday we're getting another 30 pounds? Just thought I'd mention it.

Pictures

I think these are some beautiful pictures of the countryside around Looney Lane.






I think this one looks like a sunrise.

Life on Looney Lane

Heading for the crik...


















Playing in the sand...

















Swimming? I'm here to relax...















Just my feet, please...


















Should I go for it???














Just a little bit more...












Race for the towels...












Homeward trek...











...in the pickup...







Behind the house where my family lives right now is a river right on the property. My family loves to go down there in the evenings or on the weekends. It is so quiet and still and beautiful...our own little retreat. We ride the pickup truck back 3/4 of a mile and then we have to walk for another quarter mile or so. Everything is gorgeous! We walk on a path of trampled down grass. The trees surrounding us are all different shades of green. Dark, shiny, vibrant... Their trunks are thick, deep brown, standing tall. Blackberry bushes march along on either side. We finally reach the river. We duck low hanging branches until we come out into a beautiful pebbled beach. It is about 50 ft. around with multi-colored rocks of different sizes. On the right it is sandy, bordered with leafy bushes. We set up the chairs and get out the beach toys. At first we stayed on the beach, content to wade and splash each other. Then slowly we got in deeper and deeper. I should mention that my dad triple dog dared us to swim in the water and Cade immediately responded, "Oh,oh, yeah! I am definitely going to do it, you don't even need to dare me. I am sooo going in!" Before we got in my dad made Cade take his shirt off so that he would have something dry to come back to. Now the big guy wasn't so sure..."Oh, guys it looks really cold now. I mean before I thought I could keep my shirt on so I was going to do it but, ahhh dad, do I have to take it off?" Eventually we all (except my mom. It has to be 90 for her to swim) got in...minus Cade. Apparently he was all talk. He would stand about up to his waist and say, "No, guys I really don't want to do it." A little later, "Oookay I guess I'll do it. Is it really cold?" "Ohhh, but do I have to do it?" Finally we convinced him that it would be better to get it over with because otherwise we would tease him about it. After we were all on shore, wrapped in towels my dad said, "Listen." Everything was absolutely silent except for the gentle rush of water and the chirping of birds. God's creation is so evident, especially out here!
Oh and by the way, if you're wondering when we found time to go swimming since it hasn't been above 75, I'll just tell you that it was barely 60 degrees when we went. Everybody claims the water was -30 but hey, if that's what you gotta do to swim in Oregon, that's what you gotta do.

Story

My great-aunt Marvella read my most recent blog posts and asked me to write a short story based on the Good Samaritan for her Sunday School. She thinks that most of the time we don't realize just how amazing it was for the "good samaritan" to help that man. So this is what I came up with for her and I thought I would share it with you all. I realize its probably way to long for a single blog post but maybe you can just take it in chunks.

It hadn’t been Aubrey’s idea.
The teenage girl had never wished more fervently that she was somewhere else than where she was right at this moment. As she steered the large van to a stoplight she told herself again that she should have never let them talk her into this. She remembered the grandmotherly woman’s face peering into hers. “Please, Aubrey just this one trip. These kids are counting on you.” Out of guilt, she had reluctantly agreed to shuttle a group of kids home from an event at her church. There had been only one problem. These kids all lived in the heart of downtown Chicago, in the center of the busyness, the noise, the crime…Aubrey was terrified of going there.
Now it was late. The kids had all been dropped off. Outside snow flurries whistled against her windshield wipers and icy wind howled. She could barely see, her headlights scarcely cutting through the inky darkness. Bruised storm clouds hung overhead, their bellies heavy with snow.
Aubrey nervously switched on her blinker and turned left. She chanced a glance out the window. Boarded up windows and dirty shacks lined the alleyway. A couple of teenagers lounged against one of them, smoking cigarettes. Splashes of colorful graffiti decorated cement walls. It seemed to Aubrey that downtown Chicago had never been more frightening.
As she continued to drive, a warning light flashed from the assortment of dials behind the steering wheel. WARNING: LOW GAS! Aubrey groaned in frustration.
Nervously she tapped an uneasy rhythm on her seat, “Come on, come on! Just get me to a gas station,” she muttered nervously. Her car began to sputter as she whipped around another corner, scanning the area frantically for a gas station. The old van gave one last groan. The car managed to go 15 feet more before it coasted to a stop at the sidewalk.
“Great, just great!” she yelled. “I’m stuck in downtown Chicago with no gas in the middle of a snowstorm and…” Aubrey fumbled through her purse and came up with her cell phone. She flipped it open. A brief glance revealed that it too was dead “…and no cell phone! Ugh.” Aubrey leaned her head against the steering wheel. She watched through a foggy window as dozens of cars sped past her. “I hope somebody’s in a good mood,” she muttered.
Then, she wrapped her coat more tightly around her and opened her door. An icy blast of wind hit her as she stepped out of the car. Aubrey waved a gloved hand frantically at passing cars. One car slowed and Aubrey redoubled her frantic waving. A policeman eyed the teenage girl, alone on the dark sidewalk. But then turned and drove away without a second thought for the frightened girl on the road. Aubrey stared in disbelief at the receding police car. Could he really be so heartless? What would it have taken for him to let her borrow his cell phone?
She was pretty, young, strong; she would have to get herself out of this mess. After all, he couldn’t do everything, could he? His job was to fight crime not to babysit irresponsible teenagers who had forgotten to fill up on gas.
Wind blasted at her. Snow sliced against her cheeks. Aubrey continued to wave at the passing cars. Faces turned from windows, heads were bowed, eyes were averted… Nobody wanted to notice the stranded girl on the side of the road.
Two approaching forms caught her attention. Two teenage boys cockily walked up to her, their eyes taking in her situation.
“Um, I’m Aubrey. I’m lost here. My car ran out of gas. You don’t happen to know where I can get some gas, do you?” she asked timidly.
One of the boys nudged the other in the arm, “Hey, isn’t that cute, Brian? She wants our help.” The other kid snickered stupidly. Aubrey began to back against her car.
“Listen, kid we don’t help anybody but ourselves.” Brian stepped closer. The other kid grabbed her purse. “You’re gonna come with us now.”
“No, please don’t,” she cried as each of them grabbed one of her arms. “Please, please stop!” she pleaded as they forcefully pulled her away from her van. Tears leaked from her eyes and froze as they slid down her cheeks.
“Hey boys, whatcha doing with that lady?” Aubrey nearly gasped with relief as her savior appeared from a whirlwind of snow. “You leave her alone, you hear?”
“Aaaah, we were just having a little fun,” one of the boys protested.
“You better get outta here before I call the cops. I don’t ever wanna see you again, now git!”
The boys left quickly, kicking up snow in their wake. Aubrey turned to thank her rescuer and nearly gasped in shock again. He stood at least a foot and half taller than her, with thick muscled arms and legs. His skin was the color of ebony and tattoos crisscrossed his arms.
“Those boys hurt you, ma’am?”
“No…no, not yet,” she managed to say as her pounded within her chest.
“Well, you’d best be getting on home now. Chicago is no place for a pretty thing like you in the middle of the night.”
“But, that’s just it. I’m lost. My car ran out of gas and those boys just took my purse.”
“Well, then you’ll just have to come with me. My trucks down there a ways. I’ll get you some gas and then get you on your way.”
The relief that flooded Aubrey was replaced with fear. Could she trust this stranger? His appearance gave her every reason to believe that he could and would harm her. But then again what choice did she have? The alternative was being stranded out here, alone until the snowstorm let up.
“Here, let me help you. How long you been out here, miss?”
“A while…I came in early this evening.”
Numbly, she let him guide her across the icy sidewalk until they reached a beat up red pickup. She slid into the passenger’s side and buckled herself in. In a moment he joined her. “What’s your name?”
“Aubrey, Aubrey Stone.”
“I’m Gabe. What are you doing ‘round here?”
Warmth was starting to slide back into her fingertips. “I was taking a group of kids home from our church and I ran out of gas and got stranded here. I didn’t have my cell phone and no one would stop to help…until you came along. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
They drove on in silence for a few moments until Aubrey said, “Do you live in Chicago, sir?”
“Don’t do none of that ‘sir’ stuff. Call me Gabe, same as everybody else. But, no I don’t live here…just passin’ through.”
“You have a family?”
He didn’t answer, and Aubrey began to think he never would, but then he said, “No, no family.”
“What do you do?”
“Do you always ask this many questions, Aubrey?”
She paused, “Yes.”
“I thought so.” Just then Gabe pulled into a gas station and got out of the truck. He entered the gas station store and Aubrey watched as he talked to a man in boots and stained overalls, then exited with a gas can. He walked over to the truck and plunged the hose into the can, squeezing it with his powerful muscles. Aubrey watched his fluid movements and wondered what such a man was doing all alone.
Gabe reentered the truck and placed the gas can down near Aubrey’s feet.
“There you go. Should be enough to get you home.”
“Thank you so much…Gabe.”
Half a smile broke out on his rugged face. “Let’s get this back to your car.”
They drove back to her car and Gabe easily filled up the gas tank until the gauge rested just above the halfway mark.
She thanked him again and was just about to enter her car when he put a hand on her arm. “I thought I should tell you… my wife left me and took our son a while ago. They were all the family I had.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I brought it on myself…I was drinking. Drinking real bad. One day I drank too much. Yelled at her, got real mad. Then I hit her. Later she came to me in jail, told me she was done. That was the last straw. She was leaving. It broke my heart. She was the only thing that kept me going, her and our son. Then, I got into drugs. Got in real deep. Served a few more years in jail. When I got out I promised myself I would be a better person. I know you’re probably thinking I deserved everything that happened and maybe you’re right. Most people treat me different when they know. They don’t trust me because of my past… I just thought you should know.”
Gabe turned and started walking away. “Gabe, wait!” Aubrey called. “Thank you.”
He smiled, and this time it reached his eyes, “My pleasure.”
Then her Good Samaritan turned and was swallowed up by a flurry of snowflakes.

Story Part Four

This is the fourth and final installment of a story I wrote based on Numbers 21:4-9

My entire body explodes in pain. The snake’s fangs latch into my back. I scream and claw at my back, desperate to get the creature off. It hisses at me as I fling it away. Only now do I understand the pain of the serpents’ victims. My back feels like burning coals have been spread over it. I can feel the venom racing through my body, like lava in my veins. I scream again. This is what the wrath of Yahweh feels like. I think dimly.
Then a pair of strong hands lift me up and turn me over. Something is placed on my back and I felt the pain diminish slightly. I am laid on my back again and something is brought to my lips, “Drink this, Lydie. It’ll hold you over.” I find myself looking into a woman’s seamed face. I recognize her, she sometimes camps next to our tent.
“Until what?”
“A group of our people have gone to Moses to beg for Yahweh’s forgiveness. Maybe the Lord will remove the curse.”
Moses steps into view holding something. It is a serpent, made of bronze. Through a haze of pain I watch as he mounts it on a pole about 10 feet high.
“People of Israel!” he cries, “You have sinned against the Lord, yet he has chosen to extend his grace. Look at this serpent. If you raise your eyes to it Jehovah has promised that you will live.”
All around us people are following Moses’ advice.
“It’s working, my fever is going down!”
“Anna’s breathing easier now.”
“She’s just stopped bleeding.”
“Look up, child.” The woman urges. But I’m not so sure. If Yahweh was so powerful why couldn’t he have cured them all without a word ? He wasn’t strong enough to save my father. I grind my teeth with the pain and draw another raspy breath. Could something so simple really be a cure? The screams all around me continue. The serpents are still biting.
“What could it hurt?” The old woman sooths, “All around you others are doing it, please child look up.” Could it work? Yahweh, are you there? My body continues to burn and I struggle to breathe. “The sun is rising child, lift your face. Yahweh is good, He has promised he will never left me. He has sealed his promise in the form of this serpent.

I open my eyes and lift my face to the serpent.

1,500 years later others would lift their faces to a man hanging from a cross. A man who had come to bring forever healing to everybody who would believe.


Well, I hoped you liked it. I wrote it in a few days based on part of one of my dad's sermons.

Story Part Three

This is part three in my story based on Numbers 21:4-9.





I watch in horror as a serpent sinks its fangs into a young woman’s leg. The woman cries out and falls to the ground writhing in pain. All around her men, women and children are being bitten. I cover my ears against the horrible sounds that fill the air and run. Bodies strike the earth…people scream in agony…snakes hiss…
I almost trip over a body in front of me. A small child lies limply on the sand. His body is soaked in sweat and he is foaming at the mouth. I drop to her knees and trickled water into his mouth out of a pouch at my waist. I dip my sash in water and lay it on his head. Then I notice an inflamed area at his ankle. It is the color of the serpents themselves, swollen to twice its normal size. The little boy screams and thrashes his body around. I tear strips of cloth from my tunic and tied them tightly above the injured area. Then I cradle the boy in my arms and walk to my tent. I pass other people in agony but I don’t stop. I lay the boy down in the shade and set some water near him. Hopefully there is a chance he will live.
I move on to others as night fell. Apparently other uninjured Israelites have the same idea. They pick their way through the empty camp treating the wounded. The initial panic of earlier has been replaced by a grim determination to stay alive. As I soothe an old man I notice a familiar figure. Standing, I make my way through a maze of empty tents and dying fire pits. “Father!” I scream. Two snakes swarm up his legs. One coils around his arm and bites him, the other sinks its fangs into his neck. I run to him as he collapses on the ground, gasping for breath. I cradle his head in my lap. “Why, father, why?” His eyes bug out and blood spurts from his neck. His body burns painfully.
“Shouldn’t have listened, Lydie…”he chokes, “should’ve stayed in Egypt.” Then his eyes rolled back in his head. I begin to sob. I sobbed for my father and the dying people around me. I cried for the broken lives and homes and families all because we had failed to trust Yahweh. As I cried I was unaware of a coiled snake behind me. It hissed once before it reared up and struck its fangs deep inside my body.

Story Part Two

This is part two of a story based on Numbers 21:4-9.


Moses steps back, “I will go ask of the Lord what he would have me do.” The crowd hums with anxious murmurs as he step back into his tent. I watch as the crowd slowly disperses in twos and threes. To care for children….tend their animals… The sun sink lower in the sky. It is a fiery golden ball resting on the horizon surrounded by splashes of red and orange.
Moses reappears from his tent. His head is bowed. Then he raises his voice, “People of Israel! The Lord God is a just God. He rules in Heaven and he does not take lightly the complaints of his people. You have sinned against him and in rising against his servant you have risen against him.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” Yells Jeptha.
Moses fixes cold eyes on him, “Look to the hills for your judgment draws near.”
I turn my eyes to the east, where the setting sun is still bleeding out golden rays of light.
Tension hangs thick in the air, “What is it?” somebody whispers. I watch as something begins moving towards us. It looks like part of the desert has broken free and is sliding forward. Except it isn’t gold. Whatever is drawing near doesn’t have the color of sand. It is the brightest red, as if fashioned from fire itself. No, not it them. Thousands swarm towards them hissing angrily. Hissing. Fear wash over me as the realization hits. We back away frantically as the serpents slither towards us.
The serpents are all about the length of a man, with thick scales and forked tongues. Their black eyes are set in their heads like two shining orbs. Each of them has a hood at their head and heavy pouches of venom near their mouths. They start striking as people try to run away. Pandemonium reigns in the camp.
And then the screams start.

Short Story

I don't know how many of you were there on Sunday for my dad's sermon, but he talked a little bit about Numbers 21:4-9 about the serpents. Well, I had a little bit of an idea and I decided to write a short story about it. You might want to read the Numbers passage first. I'll be posting part of it everyday for a few days...

“We want something better!” A gruff looking man barks. His voice breaks free from the murmuring crowd of angry people.
“It isn’t enough!” hollers an older woman.
“We should have stayed in Egypt,” a young man cries bitterly, “At least we had enough to eat.”
I watch all this from my position crouched near a goatskin tent. Men and women are yelling angry insults at an old man with white hair. His skin is dark like old leather and his face weary but he stands tall before the complaining Israelites.
Another man steps forward, tall and muscled. His beard is tangled and his clothes are wrinkled and stained from weeks of travel. The crowd hushes as he speaks, “We’re tired of this manna, old man.” His voice is edged with menace. Then he leans closer and I can imagine the stench of his breath, bits of meat caught in his beard. “We’re tired of you, Moses.”
“You dare to address the Lord’s servant in this manner?” Moses’ voice rings out across the camp, gaining strength as he speaks. “You, Jeptha who swore to obey his commands, who heard him speak. I warn you Yahweh does not take this lightly.”
He’s giving you a chance to take it back! I want to scream. Say you’re sorry, beg Yahweh’s forgiveness. Because as much as I hate what Jeptha is doing I don’t want to see him get hurt. And I knew just what Yahweh can do. Because the man standing before Moses isn’t just any man.

He is my father.