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Sometimes the most enjoyable evenings are those that are unplanned. John and I had one of those evenings with our good friends Kris and Mike VanLoon on Saturday.


Mike came over to help John with his lumberjack duties - cutting up the felled tree in our backyard.{see below for the details of that incident} When he arrived John and Matthew had completed the task. Mike said he arrived 'just in time'!! The boys sat down and watched football and we planned to go to Douglas' Octoberfest after dinner. 


We arrived just as it was finishing (I think Mike might have radar for this sort of just in time thing!!!). We did manage to have one or two beverages and had some interesting conversations. Or in many cases, snatches of conversations. As when I walked up to a table to hear Paula exclaim "I don't want the butt I want the meat." Immediately upon seeing the expressions of those that hadn't heard the beginning of the conversation, she turned a bright shade of pink and hid her face in embarrassment!


Well, we mid-lifers closed down the Octoberfest!! Mind you it was only 8 and we didn't arrive until 7 - but we don't really need to add the details! We then went to Wild Dog and saw more than a few people we all knew - it had a festive feel to the night. 


While reflecting back on the night, I recalled a few more memorable last-minute evenings. One of my favorite New Year's eves was at a neighbors in Kentwood - they said to come over if we didn't have anything else going on; it appeared there were a lot of us without plans and some of us didn't get home until after 3 a.m.! From then on, I swore I'd plan better!! Well, I forgot that oath because one of my other favorite last minute nights was another New Year's Eve and involved the VanLoons and all of our children. 


I think the reason these end up being favorite evenings is because there is an ease to the night and no expectations. While some of the more planned evenings can sometimes be a let down because of high expectations.


So raise a glass to being open for the last minute and not planning every moment of a weekend. And woot-woot, I closed down Octoberfest!!!


The Felled Tree


On Thursday night, torrential winds ripped through our lakeside town. I am not sure of the speed but heard from one weather source that there were gusts of up to 70 mph. When I went to bed that night, I could hear the wind and waves and it seemed to lull my to sleep. About two hours later, I was awoken by some fairly major gusts and my sleep was sporadic for the rest of the night. So, at 5am. when I heard what sounded like acorns on the roof followed by a loud "whumpf". I cowered under my covers and when I didn't hear any other 'whumpfs" I dozed until it was time to get up at 6.


I looked out the window to see a large tree - it had been dead for some time and covered in poison ivy vines - laying in our yard just a foot or two from the house. The very corner where our bedroom was. I immediately got down on my knees and praised God. A little later, I shared the story with Matthew and Delaney and both were awed. Delaney said if the wind continued, I should sleep in Michael's now-vacant bedroom. I was really glad to have John home the next night and to have no winds!!!

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It's not a popularity contest, but ...

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B

Peter Pan no more

                          It's time. Peter Pan had to grow up.  For nearly 18 months of his life, Matthew dressed in this costume. In this picture it's new, just out of the box. He picked the costume out of a catalog and when it arrived, two weeks prior to Halloween, he asked daily if today was the day he could finally wear his Peter Pan costume. He didn't like the hat and only wore it on Halloween, but the rest of the costume he wore daily! You read that correctly - DAILY. He wore it to Meijer (for those of you unfamiliar with Meijer, it's a cleaner, friendlier, more 'upscale' version of WalMart), to church, to play dates and preschool ... Heck, he was three and adorable and it worked for him!  (Yes you read that correctly, he even wore it to church on one or two occasions when it seemed arguing with a three year old about not wearing a costume to church was not a battle worth waging. He once mentioned the priests wore dresses . . . I don't think Joh

Cabin fever made me do it!

Like nearly ever person in West Michigan, I have a serious case of cabin fever.  I won't waste your time however, complaining about the two-hundred feet of snow that's fallen in the last two hours. I won't share about the twenty or thirty times I've had to shovel my walk today as gusts blew it right back in my face. And I certainly will not lament about the temperatures that hover around negative double digits making your nostrils freeze together within moments of stepping outside. To bore you with tales of how we have to shovel areas in our yard so that our large dog and can do his 'duty' because the snow is deeper than he is tall and dogs for whatever reason cannot poop in the same place twice, is not what I will share. You will not hear about how when I open the slider to let aforementioned dog outside, gusts of wind blow drifts of snow inside and require a shovel to once again close the door.  Nor will I share how some roads around here are drifted shut be