Cutest Upset

This fuzzy little kitten is curled up at my feet as I write. Trevor found him at a photo shoot and said I should get him because he looks like our 12 year old cat, Ed (I mean, King Edward)...who we don't know how much longer we will have.

So here this kitten is, as cute and good as a kitten could be, really. I thought his good behavior would wear off as he got more comfortable with the dog and the now, very grouchy cat. But he has been good and accident free from day one.

Edward does not see the value in any of this. He's delivered many paw bats and blows to put this threat in its place, which should be in the woods if he had anything to say about it. The kitten is not detered though, he still persues Ed's approval, approaching him playfully or following him in constant observation of how big cats do what they do. His punished persistence is admirable and at the same time, a bit heartbreaking.

Sometimes the kitten will be sitting three feet away or so and Ed will charge over and bat him a time or two. The kitten just closes his eyes and braces himself. Minutes later he follows Ed like nothing ever happened.

Today Ed watched him try to acsend the couch where Ed was perched and gave him a "you fool" sort of look. I have to say, I think he's warming up.

I have to look at this from Ed's perspective. After all, we did crown him as King Edward. He's ruled the place for 12 years. The dog, five times his size, fears him. Ed had a really good gig going and now a mini-me shows up completely unexpected. I mean, certainly Ed had some expectations, as much as a cat could, I imagine. Dreams, if you will, and we made a train wreck of them.

This little blog story has got me to thinking more than some others. I have had many expectations in life, haven't you? I just wanted and expected a few things to go a certain way. When they didn't or don't I get to being pretty grouchy myself. I have to remind myself that life is pretty wide open and limitless, or at least it can be if I work with what I've got and hold fast to my dreams. I need to be more like the kitten, expecting the best, exploring my world in amazement, living in punished persistence sometimes, and curling up at the Master's feet.

The better of the two above photos was taken by Trevor Lee, http://tmleephotography.blogspot.com/

Improvement Obsession

I've been ridiculously obsessed with home improvement projects lately.

The beginning of the holiday season and my love of decorating for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving really motivated me to speed up the home stretch, not to mention how good it feels to see a room transformed. Five rooms have been completed and I think I'm addicted.

Most recent in my two month fix-it stint was the back room. This is the catch all room- laundry, shoes, dog food, and dirt storage (that was kind of a joke).

We stacked the washer and dryer, did you know that you can do this with most front load models? It's great. Saves room, looks kinda cool, and when they are both in use and get to spinning at the same time it's interesting (Yeah, maybe I have more fix-it work to do...).

Dave and Mitch got the machines stacked up and they worked fine. Then with Dave and Dexter's help I got to work on a cabinet/sink/counter addition along the same wall. This required that I buy a longer dryer cord than the manufacturer makes. No problem, the people at Menards and Home Depot (note the multiple store list) were very helpful. I've wired in a do-it-yourself plug and cord before, this would be no problem.

Well, since I'm writing about it you probably figured out by now that it was a problem.

The first attempt at flipping the breaker back on gave me a "Pop. Click."

Ew.

Try again, check the wires, had them flipped. And again no dryer.

Three tries. Each time perched on the new counter top, reaching, looking in a mirror, straining to see and work in the little half hidden space on the back of the dryer (the stacked set had already been put next to the wall and it seemed silly to move them for such an easy repair).

In the midst of this my husband was trying to help me troubleshoot the problem. He suggested a few people who I should call but I didn't want to bother anyone.

Then, we both suddenly smelled something really bad. "What is....it's a skunk." We opened the back door to find Zoey happy as can be while she smelled as bad as she ever has. It was horribly strong.

From my counter top perch, now breathing through my mouth. I was trying to figure out the dryer in extreme frustration. I happened to look over to the bathroom where I saw the toilet overflowing.

Sure, it's funny now.

The next day Trevor was kind enough to make a trip to the launder mat for me. Meanwhile In a conversation with my brother, Ray, about Thanksgiving I mentioned my fix-it projects, and the dryer issue. In less than 10 minutes he told me what he thought my problem was (he's way better at these things than I am!). In another 10 minutes the dryer was working.

WHY didn't I think to call someone wiser BEFORE I got to the frustration and failure stage?

Made me think of how many times I do this with God. He knows what I need and has given me a lot of resources to help me. I just don't ask or look in the places He gives me. He doesn't even consider me a bother. Hmmm.

Doggy Diaper

Our dog has a problem, and a trail of blood on the carpet later it become our problem. Please don't tell her I told you, but Zoey is in heat. She seems pretty embarrassed by this ordinary situation that can't feel so ordinary for her.

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In order for Zoey to be in the house doggy diaper shopping was in order. I found pet products I never knew existed at StuffMart. "They don't have her size. I'll have to go to the actual pet store," I told my husband, Dave, as we happened to pass one another in the parking lot.

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Once at MegaPetMart, I experienced new-product-awareness-overload....whoa. Glassy eyed, I found them next to the Wee Pads (at my house we call these newspapers, but I admit they looked a lot nicer in that package). They wanted over $20 for 12 doggy diapers. I think the look on my face is what they call sticker shock.

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I quick called Dave, still at StuffMart, and asked he and Mitch to get a package of large baby diapers. "Thirty-five pounds and up," Mitch read from a label, "is that good? It's the biggest they have." I guess there aren't many 50 pound toddlers in diapers now are there?

There were 36 in a package for less than $9 so...we'd make it work. Cut a whole for the tail (perfect placement took only 4 diapers to perfect) and add duct tape to keep it on. We've SO solved our problem.

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But one look at Zoey and you don't feel like you've totally solved things. Her long eyes beg you to take off the restraining contraption. Her teeth rip it off with no begging whatsoever when you're not looking. She is sad.

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I think that Zoey thinks this is how life will be for her from now on.t is grim. This is what her face tells me.

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Little does she know that this too will pass and things will be brighter just around the corner. All the Young Life kids were at our house tonight and Zoey is so happy again, she loves people. See Zoey, things are getting better already.

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I could stand to remember that myself. When I'm in the duck-taped diapers of life (please, it's an analogy, work with me here) feeling confused and embarrassed, things will get better.

A Good Car Cry

by Shelley Lee

Good car cry is not to be confused with good car, or a cry that is good. Let me explain.

Our family of six possesses a fleet of six vehicles, each with...character. LOTS of character.

Trevor's 9-year old Alero is the starship, we all love a chance to drive it. It excellerates like a race car, I'm sure of it. It also isn't all dented up. A real plus.

We have gone an incredible stretch of time, the entire summer I think, without needing any major repairs at all.
So I should have seen this coming.

It started last week with Wes' Teal Topaz, he loves this 6 cylinder manual. It had overheating issues, and needed a new thermostat. Dave decided to get him a new exhaust while he had it at the mechanic. When it came back, not only could I not hear Wes coming up the drive (a real downer), but the car had a new noise (not a good noise said the mechanic listening on the phone).

Too bad that when we picked it up we had dropped off Mitch's White Topaz with a fried clutch that apparently is my fault because I had to drive it when Teal Topaz and the now-not-starting Green Machine Astro were putting a squeeze on our 'normal' routine. Someone else had my Crunched Cavelier. So, if you're counting, three cars are down. Keep counting.

This morning Trevor hitched a ride with a friend, "my window fell inside my door...I heard glass crunch." he said. It was raining.

The Red Astro is off with the Lee Lawncare crew (see photo, she's a beauty), and Crunched Cavelier is off assisting the teenagers with their social lives.

Stuck at home this evening with only dirt bike and bicycle options, I was writing a story submission to a publisher. The point of the story was not being afraid to ask God for things, because He actually cares about us and wants to give good things to us.

Well, I have to admit, as I looked outside at our stellar fleet lined up for the mechanic (who apparently can only work on one at a time) I got extremely grouchy and sad, and well, I regret that everybody around me felt the ugliness of this.

So, God, would you help me with what I need most. Unfortunately, it is probably my attitude about 'stuff'. But a couple decent cars gently dropped from the sky would be OK too.


Photo by Trevor Lee http://tmleephotography.blogspot.com/

$150 experiement and no regrets

When I saw him shopping for a pocket camera in the electronics department at StuffMart, our conversation from the day before came back to me.

He had walked excitedly in my office holding a hand crafted contraption made of styrofoam, duct tape and fish line. The likes of a five point harness - but for a camera. His girlfriend's camera.

"I'll buy her a new one if something happens to it." he said.

Trevor is a photographer by trade and endlessly creative. He and his friend Marky teamed up on this idea that would fly a camera through the sky via several helium balloons, while recording video. They would post on facebook a time for all who could gather on campus to look up at the camera upon take-off. It would be "sweet".

I am first a skeptic, but I really love a spirit of adventure, and quite honestly, I'm jealous that they have the time and energy to do this kind of stuff.

I was looking forward to the gathered video footage with great frames full of bright young faces looking to the sky. Their expressions would grow unrecognizable as each faded to a dot on the landscape. And then a jerky aerial view of Bowling Green as the flying contraption would bobble about the city taking it's challenges from the wind and impending rain. The journey would end victoriously with a few scratches and elevation drop balloon pops for good story fodder (which I would scoop up for the blog file if he'd let me).

As it turned out, the first flight went pretty much as planned, but the 30 balloons tethered by 10 pound fishing line went up about 100 yards. It really needed to be better, a higher, beefier flight. So, a second run was in order.

It got high alright. Real high, and this is about when the wind did the same. It went up about 300 yards. As they pulled it back in the wind pushed it down below 45 degrees. The colorful, now 40-balloon zepplin, was no longer flying free. Sitting atop a 60 foot tree in someone's backyard, it was entangled in high branches aloft rustling fall leaves. No one at the tree owner's home answered the door.

It rained all night.

They went back the next day. Still no one answering the door and the camera had apparently been taken away by balloons again flying free anyway.

This is where we end up at StuffMart, in the electronics department.

"Hundred fifty dollar experiment?" I said over his shoulder as he compared the available options.

"Yep." he said without a hint of regret in his voice.

One of his friends asked if he regreted trying this.

"I don't regret it at all." he said with a smile.

What the video actually looks like we may never know. What we do know is that taking risk is worth the trade-off of the regret of never having tried.

I want to make some spritual application here, but I believe it's already there.

I love learning from my kids.

Photo by Trevor Lee, also posted on: http://tmleephotography.blogspot.com/

What I'm Looking For Eludes Me

Like a lot of you, I love music. It's not that I'm musical really. I mean, most of the time I have to search for the lyrics to understand half of what's being sung. I just spent 10 minutes trying to think of a funny mis-heard-music example, but my memory fails me at the moment. I do recall of one of my brother Ray's mis-hearings.

When we were little kids he insisted John Denver's song was "Country Rose". I told him it was Country Roads, but he insisted to the point of singing the song to a saleswoman at Topps Department Store who had told him they had no record entitled "Country Rose". He sang nice and loud. It was great! (I get this funny feeling that my brother is going to remember some things for me now).

Recently in a John Eldredge book and then from my husband Dave, it was brought to my attention that U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" tells the Redemption story. Interesting. I had listened to that song many times in college in less-than-holy scenes (which I now understand is most of life's scenes but that's for another day). All I remembered was "still haven't found what I'm looking for". No surprise.

I googled the lyrics and printed them (not for redistribution or sale in case you're worried). Two pages.

The other day I was reading them again, as I pondered how the relentless search for full satisfaction in life eludes me.

As I turned to the second page of lyrics the only line there on the blank sheet was "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For". Emptiness.

I laughed at the irony of that. But it really got me thinking on how even though I have eternal hope and a living faith in a living God, that I still don't have what I'm looking for.

Oh I get lots of glimpses of what that fullness will be someday, but only peeks through the cracks of life. Lots of things give me hope that things are going to be OK. There's the love of my family and friends, my next accomplishment, a completed project, a significant milestone, or point of growth.

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

In the meantime, I'll take more of my brother singing at the top of his lungs in the store and making me laugh.

Mrs. Beasley I miss you

When I was a little girl I had a Mrs. Beasley doll. She was the best with that polka-dotted blue and yellow dress and silly face that made every girl feel absolutely beautiful. Really though, I loved her. She had a string that came out of her back that would make her recite really great things that I don't remember. But the best thing about her was she was my unconditional little friend. You know childhood can be rough. Kids sometimes steal your candy and slam the door in your face (that's a story for another day). You need an unconditional friend, anyone being nice to you is good too...you think.
So when the older neighbor girl, Ruthie, from down the street came knocking at my door and wanted to play with me and both of our Mrs. Beasley dolls I quickly accepted. My mother seemed to think it was nice that the older girl wanted to play and went about busily in the house. I ran to get Mrs. Beasley as Ruthie so impatiently requestly. Eager to play with me, I thought. That's nice.
Now out on the front porch, the same concrete porch that held the day's heat and warmed me in the evening, on this porch she told me, smiling from her large frame, to take the scarf I put on my Mrs. Beasley, hand her my doll ,close my eyes and spin around. I did. She handed me Mrs. Beasley and said "they look exactly the same." Yes, they did.
That was all the playing she wanted to do. Odd I thought, but whatever. I went to my room to have tea with Mrs. Beasley. That's when my little girl world unravelled. Mrs. Beasley would no longer speak her kind words that I don't remember to me. The string was stuck, broken. I had been duped by the classic bait and switch! I ran crying to my mother.
I approached Ruthie's house many times in an attempt to get my friend back. She had two very large, very mean brothers, which could explain a few things. But I never did get my Mrs. Beasley back.
As a child I was sad for quite awhile about this and I couldn't fix it, no one would fix it. I have thought often of this since, and thought how mean Ruthie was, how much I'd like to tell her a thing or two about how to treat people. But then what could I say about how I treated her?
This story brings me back to the only thing that can fix the unfixable stuff. Forgiveness.
Makes me think of how many tangled situations I've put myself in when I make bad choices, it gets unfixable. And God forgives me every time.
OK, so Ruthie, I still miss Mrs. Beasley, but you're off the hook.
Forgiveness fixes a lot of things, not Mrs. Beasley's voice box, but still, a lot of things.