Wordless Wednesday ~ Rebekah and a guy named Conrad

31 days... of dinner chez les Wrightlings... Bacon, Eggs, Buttery Toast and Watermelon {day 7}

...cause it was a fast food night.

(Notice how I'm not mentioning that we'd been to a Baptist church potluck for lunch and none of us were really super hungry anyways?)

After lots of traveling last week (a couple of hours south of St. Louis and back... then to a meeting with a partner church and back on Sunday) and the beginning of a week of revival meetings at our home church this week, we were pretty wiped out Sunday night. When Tim volunteered to make bacon and eggs as well as slice up the huge watermelon left for us, I took him up on it. That was pretty much a no brainer.

While Tim was cooking, the girls had to clear their pet tanks off the table (left there to make it easier for Grandpa Gene to come in and feed the critters while we were gone). There were two betta fish (still doing well) and one preying mantis (recently deceased - but it is that time of the year... if you were a mantis).

Anna took her mantis out and buried him... marking the tiny garden grave with a leaf. Thankfully, she wasn't as devastated by his demise as some of the other unfortunates we've had in the past. And her betta inherited the larger mantis aquarium... now Nadia is lobbying heavily to buy herself a betta as well!

While this drama was taking place, our favorite short-order cook was busily taking requests and cooking as requested. Each one was called as his/her order was ready - and tried to find a place along the edge of the table while our mini zoo was being returned to its proper location. Sadly, the watermelon was on the old side and most of the moisture was already gone. We ate some... but it was disappointing when it looked so yummy from the outside.

Dinner was a hurried affair last night... so that we could get back to homework, showers, and sending tired ones off to bed in preparation for a very, very, very busy week!

PREVIOUS POSTS

Squirrel Soup {day 1}

Chimichangas {day 2}

in which I start conniving... {day 3}

in which I have absolutely NO IDEA... {day 4}

when the Taco Bell cooks decide... {day 5}

 Cheese Quesadillas... {day 6}

Treed by a goat... and...

...some interesting quotes and proverbs in honor of goats!

If you enter a goat stable, bleat; 

if you enter a water buffalo stable, bellow.

~ Indonesian proverb

Don't approach a goat from the front, 

a horse from the back, 

or a fool from any side.

~ Yiddish proverb

If Providence did beards devise, 

To prove the wearers of them wise,

A fulsome goat would then, by nature,

Excel each other human creature.

~ Thomas D'Urfey

If we didn't live venturously, plucking the wild goat by the beard, and trembling over precipices, we should never be depressed, I've no doubt; but already should be faded, fatalistic and aged.

~ Virginia Woolf

If you put a silk dress on a goat he is a goat still.

~ Irish proverb

And for what it is worth, in case you were concerned: no children or animals were harmed or traumatized in the making of this blog post!

And, in fact, as I type up this post, we are expecting Thing 2's wife to deliver her first kid any day, now. Our kids (you know, the human kind) are super excited!

Essays I've really loved...

A Canticle for Roadcat

(originally published in The Des Moines Register, February 14, 1988)

I had a friend... and his name was Roadcat. He was young when I was young and old when I was middle-aged. Still, our lives overlapped for a while, and I am grateful for that.

He was more than a friend, really. Friend and colleague is perhaps a better image. In fact, I sometimes introduced him to strangers as my research associate. We worked together on cold, gray afternoons poring over books and papers, while the wood stove quietly crackled its way through another Iowa winter.

Sometimes he lay upon my lap and served as a round and honest book rest. He purred and occasionally reached out to turn pages for me, randomly and with a keen appreciation of the virtues surrounding leisurely scholarship. In the spring, as the days warmed, he moved to the desk, clearing a place for himself by pushing to the floor paper, pens, staplers, and other implements of a writer's trade.

He came from a field of long grass behind our house in Columbus, Ohio. Just a few inches in length, he walked along the cement of one of those smarmy subdivisions that make your teeth curl.

A neighbor's child abused him. He fought back, as any of us would, and the child's mother screamed something about rabid cats. My wife observed that the child deserved something more than he got and brought the kitty home for the customary saucer of milk.

I set him on my lap an said, "This is going to be a fine-looking cat."But we were on the move in those times and had already promised our daughter one of the kittens from a littler down the street. So the migrant was fed and sent along.

I sat down to read the paper, glanced up, and he had reappeared on the opposite side of the house at the patio screen door. He looked in at me, and I looked back. He coughed continuously and badly, tried to cry, but the effort was soundless. I picked him up, looked him over with a modest expertise gained from years of living around animals and said I was taking him to the veterinarian's office.

The examination was lengthy. He had worms, ear mites, fleas, and a serious case of bronchitis. I asked the vet, "Is this a road cat?" The doctor smiled, "This is your genuine road cat."

We drove home together, he and I and, of course, four kinds of medicine in a brown paper bag. He sat on the car seat, small and uncomplaining, watching me, bright face hopeful. The nursery opened. Roadcat had come to stay....

***************************************

This is only the beginning of a great essay about a favorite pet by Robert James Waller... 

but I loved it because I immediately thought of our own little "road cat..."Achilles...

Beethoven ~ ready for his "date"

Isn't he handsome?

Wordless Wednesday - Marsupial Girl!

 

Five Minute Friday ~ Stay

Joining up with Lisa Jo for another 5 Minute Friday...

"...set your timer, clear your head, for five minutes of free writing without worrying about getting it right.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

Oh and Ahem, if you would take pity and turn off comment verification, it would make leaving some love on your post that much easier for folks!

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on

Stay…

Some days I have this fleeting... 

but only fleeting... 

thought.

I wish everything could stay just as it is this moment.

But then the moment flees away...

You'd remain your just shy of four

adorable

obstinate

fiesty, onery, cheeky

yet charming

self.

You'd continue to argue with me about everything I say:

"A says 'a' as in Adam..."

which I expect you to repeat.

"Not all the time," you say... " 'Cause his name is A,"

You retort with sparkle in eye 

and smile dimpled cheek.

Sasha, Achilles, Hera and Napolean...

our cats crazy for your cuddles

while traumatized by your incessant attention...

Your anger erupts when they let you know that - yet you refuse to change.

Then there's how Thing 2... the little boy goat... 

Who really isn't so little anymore,

- in fact, he's about to become a papa -

you two butt heads,

literally, 

every single day.

He's big enough, bigger than you

so he's most always the victor.

Yet?

 You still keep on keeping on,

picking a fight you should know by now you won't win

but no one else can tell you so.

Neighbors are entertained and laugh at your spunk

as do your siblings.

Scampering up and down trees, monkey-imp

with bright blue eyes

and that smile that says you're up to

no good.

I love these moments!

And I don't think I want them to change.

But I don't really want them to remain, either.

That would trap you here...

Feisty adorableness -

ornery obstinance -

annoying arrogance -

captivating confidence - 

charming cheekiness...

How could I confine you to stay now, in this moment?

For you are dreaming of the future...

an amazing woman-to-be...

I can't wait to meet you,

to know you,

then!

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 24} - Walk with Him Wednesday ~ the "Czar" of our yard...

Ann has offered the Walk with Him Wednesday crowd an opportunity to write and share what the Lord is teaching them about..."The Practice of Joy…. What does it mean to choose Crazy Joy? How do we authentically walk through hard times?"

Allowing myself to be gentled by God is the only path to abiding and abounding joy.

I'd like you to meet Sasha.

He's beautiful.

He's independent.

His solid, pitch black fur and brilliant yellow eyes are impressive.

He inspires fear in many of our Nigerien friends who think black cats are evil.

He carries himself with such a regal air, we refer to him as "the Czar" of the yard.

So yes, he's haughty.

He can be social, but only in that catlike way - in his time, on his conditions.

Unless you are Rebekah. He seems to have a special understanding with her.

He's a predator.

If you are a lizard, rodent, snake, careless bird, teenage guy kitty or Mary Michelle, he is, more often than not, terrifying.

He reminds us of "Toothless," (from How to Train Your Dragon) in so many ways.

He's also stubborn.

In that way, he reminds me of me.
....................

God wants to see a gentle and quiet spirit, a beautiful spirit, evidenced in me. I have opportunity, for He has given me His Spirit... could there be a more beautiful spirit than His own, if I would but let Him shine through?

Instead I fight the circumstances, sufferings, difficulties - kicking and screaming and crying "O woe is me," at least on the inside and lots of times right out loud in my biggest voice! Any joy, delight, contentment and moderation I either refuse or am too distracted to see as it is plopped right in my lap...

Just like Sasha -

Most times we have to "trap" him, pull him up close to our face and scratch his favorite spots. He'll meow and fuss... and then relax, serenely stretch, close his eyes, gently lay his head against your shoulder as the cat-squeal transforms into a gentle, motoring purr of joy and contentment.

Maybe someday, joyfully, he'll actually choose that gentle, quiet posture.

And then again, maybe someday, so will I.

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear." I Peter 3.3-6

Entering a 31 Day Grand Prix {day 1}

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 2} - the wordless book, a flute and a song

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 3} - "Aw Dad! Stop ruining my life!"

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 4} - gentleness on deck

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 5} - Five Minute Friday ~ Welcome
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 6} - Is there time to {gently} home school and be a missionary, too? Pt 1

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 7} - Is there time to {gently} home school and be a missionary, too? Pt 2

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 8} - A photo titled Afua's Hands

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 9} - Go-getters can be gentle, too!
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 10} - Gentle Joy
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 11} - such a genteel gal... from way down South

A 31 Day GraWhnd Prix {day 12} - Five Minute Friday ~ Race

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 13} ~ On a Mission

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 14} - pictures of gentleness
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 15} - Multitude Monday ~ all Greek to me!
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 16} ~ she came from the Land Down Under
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 17} - Walk with Him Wednesday ~ How did you answer my question from last week?
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 18} ~ that fictional frontier lady who inspires me ~ 
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 19} - Five Minute Friday ~ Look 
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 20} - should not come from
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 21} ~ Why do braids, gold and fancy clothes matter?
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 22} - Multitude Monday - 1000 Gifts - Today I'm thankful for the word INSTEAD...
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 23} ~ three missionary heroes I've never met... yet!

Wordless Wednesday - A Pair-a-Pigeons

Photos by Anna

Five Minute Friday ~ Wide

Wide…

 

Aren't those wide, bright orange eyes phenomenal?

They belong to a northern white-faced Scops owl, that we've recently had living with us. A friend told us that one of the markets in town had it in a cage for sale and that it was looking pretty traumatized.

Brendan asked, told us he had the money - and so Tim took him to get it.

This is the second time our oldest has tried to raise/rehabilitate one. He also spent several months caring for a Lanner falcon just prior to our last furlough.

The first time, he went looking for one and he cared for the owl for nearly a year before it ate tainted meat (we think) and died. The wings and tail feathers of that particular owl - Silver was her name (although she didn't like Tim and growled every time she saw him, so he called her Mrs. Grumpy) - had been so damaged when it was captured that Brendan knew after a very short time it would never be able to fly again. So he'd kill lizards with his slingshot to feed the bird and kept her in a cage in his room or on our terrace. He thoroughly enjoyed caring Silver - she was a magnificent creature. I think that his experience with Silver and a few other birds of prey he's helped rehabilitate is a part of his desire to study environmental science as he looks at heading to university next year.

We enjoyed that owl while we had her and we all learned so much... One of Brendan's friends was also rehabilitating a barn owl at the same time. Whenever the two were in the same proximity, Silver would puff, flare his wings a bit and make herself look nearly twice the size she really was. Apparently, this is an instinctive trait for these owls when feeling threatened by a slightly larger animal.

She responded totally differently with a much larger, or more aggressive (i.e. our cats) animal. Then she'd pull inward, stand up as tall and thin as she could, completely narrow her eyes and, seriously? She would actually look like a stick or a twig. Some scientists consider this a type of camouflage, or instinctive protective behavior. 

This is Brendan's senior year... most likely his last year in Africa for a significant time, at least... He was super excited to stumble on this amazing bird and to have the gift of another opportunity to work with one of these magnificent creatures. It doubly thrilled him to find that when this one spread wide its wings, they looked strong and the plumage appeared full and healthy. It could fly. So Bren figured he'd rescue, care for and work with it a bit (continuing to gain bird handling skills and pursuing his long-standing interest in falconry here, where it is much less regulated and more affordable) until the damaged tail feathers grew back. Then he hoped to release the bird, returning it to the wild.

Sadly, Bren noticed the past few days that the owl was very lethargic and last night, it refused to eat. 

This morning, it died.

We're all sad, Bren especially.

When you open your heart wide and risk: loving for, caring for and dreaming for eventual restoration and freedom... it hurts when less than that is the result.

Whether here... or elsewhere, I hope he has the opportunity to explore this passion again.