Category: everyday musings

Hometown Views: Schools

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, Hometown Views5 Comments

Welcome to a new feature from me and Erin at Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs called Hometown Views, where we share views and stories from our respective hometowns (or the towns where we currently live anyhow).


Today, Erin and I are focusing on the schools in our areas. Because Erin lives in an urban area and I live in a rural area, our schools are obviously going to be much different. While the schools in her area are large, the schools in my area are small and many of them could probably fit twice over in the school buildings in her area.In the county I grew up in, and attended school in, there are seven school districts. The majority of those districts have two or more school buildings, one for elementary, one for middle (in a couple of cases) and one for high school. The rest of them only have a junior-senior high school building for grades 7-12. This was the case for the high school I attended, which is located about 10 miles from where I live now. When I was growing up, the school district I lived in, Wyalusing School District, consisted of an elementary school in all the little communities in the district that went from kindergarten to sixth grade. That was four elementary schools.

After sixth grade everyone went to the high school, which is about 20 minutes away from where I lived (15 if you floor it).

The school as it looks today. Photo by my husband.

Several years ago, after a lot of arguing, the district closed all the elementary schools and built a joint elementary school on the same campus as the high school so now there is one junior-senior high school and one elementary school for the entire district in one place.

We visited that campus with our children a couple of years ago and they enjoyed playing on the playground that did not exist when I attended school there. In fact, when I attended high school there, the space where the elementary school is now was swamp land and woods. It was located behind the high school track and football team.

The new elementary school. Photo by my husband.
The playground that wasn’t there when I was a kid and teenager.
Behind my son is the elementary school that did not exist when I was a kid.
You can see the pretty, slopped, front yard of the school in the background of this shot.

This was hard for the communities where the schools were located because the schools were a central part of the community. Events were held there and the children who attended the schools became a close-knit group in many cases. I would not say that the children from my school became a close-knit group, necessarily, but that did happen in other schools. When I attended the elementary school, which was two to three miles from my house, our classes were very small. There was one classroom for each grade, and we had about 25 to 30 children, often less, in each classroom.

In the elementary school in the same town as our high school, Wyalusing, there were sometimes two or three classrooms for each grade with up to 30 children in each room. The other, outlying elementary schools, were similar to mine with only one classroom per grade.

My old elementary school as it looks today (despite that time stamp. I pulled this off a map site.)
This is the back of the school and behind the photographer would be the playground. That slide was one of those metal slides that set your legs on fire in hot weather.
Missing from this photo is the tether ball that used to be off to the right. This is also what the playground looked like after I left the school. Those monkeybars on the left aren’t the same monkey bars I fell off of and blacked out under when I was in second or third grade but they look very similar.

Thinking back, I can remember almost all of my elementary school teachers, except my Kindergarten one. I don’t think she was there very long, but I’m not sure why. Next up was my first-grade teacher who made you stand in front of the classroom on your birthday so she could pull your ear the number of years you were. She also had it in for one of our classmates and treated him pretty awful, despite him having a cruddy homelife.

My second-grade teacher was considered the nicest teacher in the school, and I believed this until she yelled at me one day for asking a question and tossed a workbook at my feet for answering a question wrong. Honestly, looking back, I have a feeling she was in the middle of menopause, and we had hit just one too many raw nerves that day. She was still one of the nicest teachers, but I regarded her with a healthy dose of suspicion from then on.

My third-grade teacher was said to ride a broom to school. She had a high-pitched voice that probably made the ears of dogs’ bleed. I honestly do not remember any horror stories about her but I don’t remember her being the nicest teacher.

My fourth-grade teacher was a man who owned and bred Huskies and used to bring the puppies to class on occasion where one promptly pooped the largest, slightly green pile of poop in the middle of the floor, leaving the class in stiches for the rest of the day.

I don’t have a ton of memories of my fifth-grade teacher, other than I think she was fairly nice. I also know that she passed away of a brain tumor several years ago, which is heartbreaking.

My sixth-grade teacher developed laryngitis frequently throughout the year, which the class eventually learned to use to their advantage. She would give assignments out for something, and we would pretend we couldn’t hear her. “What? I’m sorry, Mrs. Corson. I can’t hear you. Was that math you wanted us to do?”

She’d eventually scowl at us and write the assignment on the chalkboard. This was a big issue later when it was discovered that part of the reason she developed laryngitis several times throughout the year, was that she was allergic to chalk dust. Or at least that’s what I heard from a family member after I was an adult. I’m actually not sure if that story is true, but she did lose her voice often.

In sixth grade, every sixth-grade class from the district would pile on to busses and travel to Washington, D.C. for a three-day trip. The year I went, they made us wear the ugliest neon green hats with a W written on it, but there was a method to their madness. They wanted to be sure that if the groups were separated, they could find each other from a distance. It worked very well. Once, when we were separated from our group, we looked up across the Washington Mall and there were fifty-some neon green hats dotting the horizon, alerting us to the fact we were way off base from where we were supposed to be. Of course, we had chaperones. These were either a teacher or parent, and as far as I know, they did a wonderful job.

I don’t know if it is “politically correct” or “Christian” to mention this, but there was an Asian woman selling Bart Simpson T-shirts on the streets in Washington near Ford’s Theater during our trip and you could hear her up and down the street yelling, “Who da’ hell are you? Ten dolla!” over and over again. The shirts, of course, featured one of Bart’s famous sayings. His famous sayings are some of the main reasons I was not allowed to watch the show as a child, by the way. And yes, since you asked, several children came home with Bart Simpson T-shirts with Washington, D.C. emblazoned under an image of Bart and “Who the hell are you?!” emblazoned on the top of the image.

We also enjoyed listening to people try to pronounce the name Wyalusing. I’m sure I’ll mention this in future editions of Hometown Views, but Wyalusing is actually shortened from the Native American name M’chwihilusing. There is another Wyalusing in Wisconsin and I know the two towns are connected, but I can’t remember how. I believe settlers from this Wyalusing traveled to Wisconsin and weren’t very original, so they reused the name of the town they came from. I’ll have to touch on that in a future blog post.

Anyhow, I have digressed greatly from providing information about the school district I was educated in.  The Wyalusing School District educates approximately 1,350 students from K-12. Graduating classes are around 80-130 children, but usually closer to that lower number. My class of 130 was said to be among the largest when we graduated mumble, mumble years ago.

The school mascot is a ram. The school colors are green and gold and, yes, I can still sing the alma mater.

In the Wyalusing Valley, on the Susquehanna shore, stands our noble alma mater . . . okay, I won’t bore you with the whole thing.

The high school offers a variety of sports and extracurricular activities, including football, wrestling, golf, baseball, softball, cross country, track and field, volleyball, and basketball. I did not play any of these sports. I did participate in Orchestra, where I played the bells (xylophone) and chimes (oh, I could tell you some stories from that experience, but I won’t. Not today anyhow.). I also wrote the high school information column for the local weekly newspaper, where I later worked (after college) and where my husband is now the editor.


The high school was very well known for an extremely strong drama department when I was a student. I don’t know if this is the case now, but when I attended high school there, the popular kids were on the sports teams, yes (the most popular being on the wrestling and football teams. Quite a few state champions came out of the wrestling program over the years), but almost as popular, if not sometimes more popular, were the singers and actors who performed in the annual musicals. Many of those students thought their poop didn’t stink, as the saying goes, and I think a couple of them might still feel that way, even though only one of the students I knew from the program at the time, went on to have a nationally recognized career.

If you weren’t an athlete or a member of the drama department, you were pretty much a ghost at my high school and, for me, that wasn’t a bad thing. I liked being left alone to read a book, sketch, and write in my journal. I never had any interest in being popular. Let a friend of mine sing her heart out on the stage and date the star, then receive a bunch of attention for her beautiful voice (much deserved, I might add) because all I wanted to do was hide in my room and be left alone to the characters in my mind and in my books.

I’m sure the school district can boast many successful students who have graduated from its ranks, but one student who stands out to me and other alumni is Lucas Steele, who was nominated for a Tony in 2017 for his role as Anatole in Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. Other students (even the ones I joked about above) did well for themselves in their own right, however, and I truly hope they have all had happy lives, no matter where their career paths have led.

In the county where I live now, there is one school district – the Sullivan County School District – and one high school and elementary building for the entire county.

You read that right.

The schools are the only schools for the entire county. Well, two if you count that the elementary school building is right next to the junior-senior high school but not connected. I did not drive the 12 minutes from my house to photograph the school buildings because I had too much going on this week and last. I searched for photographs online and there were zero. I mean zero photographs of the school buildings, other than a few I found on Facebook of the building after firefighters had to respond to a fire there in 2019. The building was damaged, but luckily renovated and repaired. I also found another one of the building on the first day of school, though most of it is blocked by the busses. The photograph does, however, show part of the lovely campus the school is located on.

The district educates approximately 600 children.

Yep. That’s it. Six hundred children from K-12. People who live in larger cities are reading this right now and saying, “Six hundred children?! In two schools? For the entire county?! One class in our school had 600 students!”

It should be noted, however, that there are only about 6,000 full-time residents in this county. A large part of the county is made up of state gameland and there are also a large amount of cabins that are used throughout the year, but mainly during the summer, by people who live out of the area (usually in Philadelphia and New Jersey).

Because of its small size, the Sullivan County High School does not offer football. It does offer basketball, baseball, volleyball, wrestling, track and field, cross country, and soccer It also has a band, but not usually a marching band since there are no halftime shows in soccer or the other sports. The only time the district’s band performs a halftime show is at the two-county band exposition held each year in the neighboring county.  Like the school I attended, they offer chorus and various music programs.

The school mascot is a griffin.

I had to research was a griffin is because I always forget. According to Wikipedia, it is “a legendary creature with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion; the head and wings of an eagle; and sometimes an eagle’s talons as its front feet.”

You may be wondering, if you are new to this blog, if either of my children have ever attended any of the schools I have mentioned. The answer is no. My son attended a small, private Christian school until sixth grade and my daughter has been homeschooled for her entire school career so far. My son is now also homeschooled.

When I was mentioning the schools in our area, I did forget to mention the three private, Christian/ Catholic schools. The protestant school educates up to twelfth grade and the two Catholic schools educate up to eighth grade, after which students can either attend the high schools in the district they live in or they can go the Catholic high school in New York state, which is about a half an hour drive from the one private school and an hour from the other.

Now that my rambling about local schools is over, you can hop over to Erin’s blog and read about the “big city schools” outside of Detroit.


A little fiction on Thursday: Harvesting Hope Chapter 25

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings9 Comments

To relieve the stress of a couple of my readers, I am posting Chapter 25 early this week.

To catch up on the rest of the story, click HERE.

Chapter 25

Jason’s breath caught, and he braced himself for the worst.

“She’s in a hole or a shaft or something,” Alex said. “I can see the top of her head and her shirt.”

They ran together, but Alex grabbed the back of his shirt before he reached a dip in the ground. “Wait! The wood’s rotted out. I don’t know what this is, but it was covered by boards. I almost fell in with her.”

Jason stood back, frantically scanning the boards for the weak spots, his eyes moving to the hole in the middle of them. “Did she answer you?” He tossed his backpack to the side.

“No.”

“Ellie?!” He dropped to his knees next to the boards and started lifting them, tossing them to the side. Alex joined him until a wider gap was open, revealing a large swatch of darkness.

“Is this an old well?” Alex asked.

Jason shook his head, stepping gingerly toward another row of boards. “Old mine shaft.”

“Why is it still here? I thought they filled all those in.”

“They should have but a lot of companies abandoned them when the coal rush was over.”  He tossed another board behind him and inched forward. “Ellie?!” He didn’t hear a response. “This is Old Man Barkley’s land. He died two years ago, and his kids sold off the farmland in sections. I don’t know who owns this land now, but they probably have no idea the shaft is even here. Ellie?!”

Why wasn’t she answering? Had she hit her head on the way down? Was she —

“Jason?”

His heart rate increased, and he jumped across two boards to the other side of the hole, flopping into the dirt next to the entrance. He flicked the flashlight feature of his cellphone on and pointed it into the darkness. The light barely reached four feet down.

“Alex, there’s a flashlight in my backpack.”

Alex tossed the light to him, and he caught it, though he wasn’t sure how with the way his hands were shaking. He flicked the light on and tilted it into the darkness, terrified at what he might find.

A sob choked out of him when he saw Ellie’s dirt-streaked face looking up at him from maybe 20 feet down, her eyes blinking in the light’s brightness. A faint smile pulled at her mouth, her eyelids drifting closed.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He laughed through the tears. “You’re alive.”

He couldn’t even believe it. He’d been planning her funeral an hour ago while they hiked up a hill, and now he was hearing her voice.

Her laughter was the most amazing sound he’d ever heard, even if it was barely audible. “Yeah. I am. How did you even find me? I didn’t think anyone would ever find me.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Alex, call Cody. Tell him where we are and how to get here. We’re going to need more rope and a backboard. I’m going in.”

“We should wait for the first responders,” Alex said, lifting his phone to his ear. “What if the shaft caves in?”

Jason hesitated, pushing himself back from the edge. He hadn’t waited at the Weatherlys. If he had, they would have been digging two bodies out of the rubble. Ellie wasn’t in as desperate of a situation, though. What if he made the situation worse? He sat up and kicked another board back, then laid back on his stomach and felt the side of the shaft. The dirt and rock seemed solid enough. He was going to risk it, just like he’d risked carrying Ann out of the burning house. He only hoped that this time his choice wouldn’t result in the loss of another life.

“Cody, can you hear me?” Alex practically shouted into the phone as Jason turned himself to move backward into the shaft. He grabbed Jason’s flashlight and directed the beam of light into the shaft. “You’re breaking up. Yeah. We found her.”

Jason gripped the dirt next to the shaft entrance, swung his legs in, and lowered himself by bracing his boots against the side. Hard rock pulled up his shirt, ripped at his stomach, but he barely noticed. He lowered himself until he was gripping the grass and dirt without only the tips of his fingers, moving his feet, trying to find a place to grip with his feet.

The dirt broke under his hands at the same moment it broke under his boots, and he felt himself sliding down the shaft wall, dirt falling down as he moved toward the bottom. Darkness enveloped him. A searing pain shot up through his lower back to the space between his shoulder blades as he slammed against solid rock. He gasped in a breath, but nothing came. No air. Nothing but sheer panic surging through his body as his chest tightened even more.

When his breath finally came, it came with a sound that reminded him of the bray of the donkey his uncle Walt had owned years ago.

His shirt was sticking to his back, and he had a feeling the warmth wasn’t caused by sweat.

“Jason?!” The panic in her voice sliced through his heart, making him more desperate to get to her, touch her and make sure she was real.

He felt along the wall with his hands, on his knees, the light from the flashlight suddenly gone. “Alex? Where’s the light?”

Alex didn’t answer, so he kept feeling the wall until he felt skin soft against his fingertips. He stood slowly and in the next second, a hand clutched the front of his shirt, and he felt a body warm against his. He slid his arms around the body, the smell of Ellie’s shampoo pushing through the smell of dirt and mold and possibly something dead a few feet away. Leaning back against the rock behind him, he held her against him, afraid he was trapped in a dream, and someone would wake him up soon and tell him Ellie really wasn’t alive, but dead under her car in the creek.

Daylight was bright above them, but the shaft seemed to suck the light away so he could only see the light above, not around.

“Alex!”

The light from the flashlight illuminated the section of the shaft where they were sitting. Jason glanced down at Ellie and saw tears streaking through the dirt on her cheeks.

“I was afraid to get too close to the edge,” Alex called down. “The ground was giving away, and I didn’t want more dirt coming down on you guys. I’m leaving the flashlight here while I give Cody directions. I have to move down the hill. I keep losing the signal.”

Jason gently cupped his hand behind Ellie’s head, feeling along the back of her neck. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. Just my ankle and my pride. I’m sorry I left the scene. I know I —”

His mouth smothered her words as he kissed her hard, trying to convince himself she was real. He dragged his mouth away a few moments later, and she gasped for breath and clutched at the front of his shirt again.

“You’re alive,” he repeated, his throat thick with emotion.

“Very much,” she whispered. “Alive and feeling very stupid for thinking I could take a shortcut to get help. I ignored all those driver’s ed videos that told me never to leave the scene of an accident. I was a total idiot.”

He kissed her again, softer this time. “You’re alive. That’s all I care about.”

The small smile pulling the corners of her mouth upward let him know she hadn’t minded the kisses and maybe even welcomed them.

He could hear Alex on the phone above them. The beam of light tilted toward the opposite wall. Jason titled his face upward and felt her arms slid around his neck and her palm against his cheek. When he looked down, she curled her fingers in his hair at the top of his head and pressed her mouth to his. The kiss was soft, slow, and spine tingling, making him forget about the pain he was in. He could only imagine the pain she must be in, and he hoped the kiss was helping her forget it, too.

“Cody said they’re going to use your phone’s location signal to find us,” Alex called down, causing Ellie to draw back and tilt her head back to look upward. “They’re heading up with four wheelers the Bradley family is loaning them.” He pointed the light down more directly. “I’ll hold this until they get here. Is she injured?”

Jason focused his gaze on her, smiling. “Just her ankle and her pride.”

She smiled and pressed her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes.

He pressed one hand against the small of her back, the other behind her head, sinking his fingers in her dirt-peppered hair. “How did you even get here?”

Her head remained against his shoulder as she spoke. “I was so stupid. Once I got out of the car and dragged Brad to the bank, I looked for my phone but couldn’t find it under the water. It was too dark. I knew where the road was but thought I could get to the Bradley’s faster over the hill and call for help. The moon went behind the clouds, though, and I got turned around and then I got more than turned around. I got completely and utterly lost. I thought I could see lights in the valley, so I started walking that way and that’s when I must have hit the rotten boards and fallen through. I don’t remember much other than coming to with pain in my ankle and the moon shining above me through a small hole in the wood.”

He kissed the top of her head and leaned back against the wall, marveling at the fact he was holding her, that God has answered his prayer and she was still alive.

“Alex, call Judi,” he shouted.  “Her number is in my recent calls. She called me about 20 minutes ago.”

Ellie lifted her head and he looked down at her. “Judi called you?”

“Yeah. Right before we found you. She was practically hysterical. She wants you to know she’s sorry and loves you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes swam with tears, and he used the palm of his thumb to wipe them as they spilled from the corners. She drew in a shaky breath and let it out again. “Jason, I need to talk to you about  something. I need to —”

Jason shook his head. “I should have told you long ago about what happened in college. I should have let you deal with it in your own way, not pressured you to forgive me.”

Ellie laid her hand on the back of his neck. “I know, Jason, but I need to talk to you about something el—”

“Cody’s coming up with hill with the rest of the guys.” Alex’s voice spoke over hers. “Tom too. He’s on one of the ATVs”

Jason looked down at Ellie as the rumble of engines drew closer and smiled. “Time to get you out of here.” He tilted his head, so he was looking at Alex again. “Tell Cody that there is dirt around this section, but there might be soft spots over the tunnel farther back. He’d better keep the four wheelers back some.”

“Will do.” Alex disappeared from the opening.

“Jason, please, before they get here, I need to talk to —”

“There will be plenty of time to talk when we get out of here.”

He kissed her softly again.

“I know we can talk then, but Jason —”

Shouting voices and the roar of engines drowned out her voice and Jason felt rather than heard her sigh as she leaned against him.

She tightened her arms around his neck. He saw the pain in her face, the exhaustion in her eyes, and he knew there was something she wanted to tell him. Right now, though, all he cared about was bringing her to safety. Now that he knew she was alive, everything else could wait.

***

Everything had happened so fast after Jason and Alex found her. Once the fire fighters had figured out a way to safely lift her, after determining her only injury was to her ankle, they’d helped her on to an ATV with Jason behind her. Riding down the hill her back against his front, her dad on an ATV behind them, she felt secure, calm, somehow at home.

All her concerns about who he’d once been had disappeared in the mine shaft when she’s thought she’d never see him again. Sitting in a small hole underground for ten hours had given her a lot of time to think.

To think. To talk to God.

And to listen to her heart, which ached at the thought she might die without telling Jason how much she loved him; how much it meant to her he’d been nothing but wonderful since they had met. Yes, he’d kept part of his past from her, but he could have easily told her without the apology..

“Sometimes it takes almost losing it all to realize what we have,” she whispered to her mom later that night as she drifted off to sleep in the hospital.

Rena smiled through the tears at her daughter, kissed her forehead and sat back in a chair next to the bed. “I’m still afraid if I fall asleep, I’ll wake back up in the nightmare I was living all day when I thought you were dead.”

Ellie’s eyes fluttered closed, but she forced them open again. Her Dad and Judi had gone home an hour ago.

“I want to go home,” Ellie whispered.

Rena pushed the hair off her forehead. “Sleep. The doctor said you can go home tomorrow. He wants to be sure you ‘re fully rehydrated and that there are no complications from that bump you took on your head. I still can’t believe you only managed to fracture your ankle when you fell in that old mine. It could have been a lot worse.”

Ellie’s eyes were closed. She had curled up on her side, hand under her chin, as if she were thinking. She could barely think, though. Sleep pressed down on her. “Jason . . .”

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Rena’s mouth. “He’s fine, honey. I already told you. Some stitches in his back and a muscle or two pulled, but they released him and he’s coming back in the morning to see you.” She laughed gently. “Of course, he wanted to stay, but I made him go home. He was a mess. Exhausted, blood-shot eyes, covered in dirt, arms and face all scratched up.” Rena rubbed Ellie’s hand. “You both need rest. There’ll be plenty of time for you to talk to each other later.”

Ellie managed a nod and then she was quiet, her breathing slow and even.

Hometown Views: Libraries

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, Hometown Views12 Comments

Today Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs and I are debuting a feature we are calling Hometown Views. Every other week we will focus on a different aspects, locations, or landmarks of our differing towns (or city in Erin’s case).

This week we are sharing photos and thoughts about our local libraries. Erin lives in a more urban area, and I live in a smaller, more rural area. We both have a few different libraries we can choose from that we have visited, but we both have one library that means more to us than others.

The library building in the town we lived in prior to moving to our current home, was a beautiful facility and like most of the seven libraries in the county I grew up in, was built in the late 1800s, specifically to be a library.

Spalding Memorial Library, Athens, Pa.

It has three stories filled with books and a fourth story which houses the local museum. The museum features artifacts from Native Americans who originally settled the area, various historical objects from the area, uniforms and weapons from a variety of wars, and old photographs. It’s a small space but packed full of fascinating items.

I didn’t take a lot of books out there over the years, but we did attend various events there and I was at the library a lot covering events when I worked at the newspaper. I also let my children jump in mud puddles outside of that library one rainy day while patrons gawked at me like I had three heads. Good times.

Another library in a beautiful building sits next to the newspaper building (now abandoned, sadly) where I used to work. The library features two or three levels of bookshelves, accessible by metal stairs and ladders. There used to be a children’s section in the back. A few years ago, the library purchased an old carriage house behind the library building, and converted it into children’s wing, opening up the rest of the library for computers and more rows of adult or reference books.

While there is a good selection of libraries in our little rural area, for me, the library that means the most to me is in the town I now live in.

This library is actually in the county next to the county where I grew up, however, I lived only about five miles outside of this town up until I was about 25. I then married and moved 45 minutes north, where I lived for 18 years.

I remember coming home from the library with plastic library bags full of books. Mom would have one or two bags and I had one. We’d walk into the house and Dad would say, “More books? How will you even have time to read all of those?”

Well, Dad, not having a ton of friends helps with that. My friends were inside the books. Okay, not totally. I did have friends, but my friends liked to read too so there were times we didn’t hang out and during those times we read.

The library was and is small. There are three or four aisles with books on either side and then a small children’s room.

A recent program in the children’s room of the Sullivan County Library, Dushore, Pa.

All on one floor. Yes, that’s it, but when I was a kid, it was enough for me. I actually don’t remember ever picking books out of the children’s room. I read books that were probably too old for me, in some ways, but not inappropriate in any way, so I chose from the main shelves.

The rows of books are off to the right and back.

I was in love with The Cat Who books, which I, of course, still talk about on here (I finished reading one just this past weekend and have a blog post in the works about my love for the series). I also signed out quite a few Beverly Cleary books. Christian Fiction was another genre that caught my attention there.

I loved walking the aisles, running my fingertips over the spines of the books, picking them up and opening them, breathing in deep the smell of ink and paper, knowing that soon I’d be transported away from my sometimes boring life and into a world fresh and new to me.

My kid at the library in the town we currently live in. Excuse the cellphone quality.

I was so excited to move to this town and be able to go to the library again. But then I remembered my recent phobia of signing out library books and worrying about damaging them, which makes me take them back before I’ve even finished them. The phobia started in our previous hometown, because if I forgot to return a book that library would call, then text, then call, then text and so on until I returned it. I felt like a criminal. It was just easier to order books on Kindle or buy them at library sales.

The last straw was when I ran into a member of the library staff and mentioned to her I was bringing a replacement for a book I’d lost to the library. She told me not to worry but then let me know that if people don’t return books, the library has been known to send a report to the local district magistrate’s office. Gulp. That return book was in their hands the very next day after that and I never signed out another book from them. (But, no, I do not really believe she was threatening me. She was just sharing the libary’s new policies.)

You Know What didn’t help with my excitement about the little library here last year since I couldn’t peruse the shelves for almost a year. Then I became annoyed at our local library a few weeks ago because they continued to advertise their summer reading program, as if new people could join, but it was full. I had missed the deadline by a few days, but I called the library and asked if I could slide my daughter in. They never returned my call, so I called again. Still no call. When I finally was able to catch up to someone, they told me the program was full and my daughter could not attend.

It was fine that they had capped the program because they don’t have a lot of space but what was annoying was that they would advertise the program in the local newspaper as if children could attend, even though they couldn’t. So, I was a bit snitty with the lovely ladies who volunteer there and even though I apologized profusely for being jerky, I still feel super shy about going back in again. That’s why some of the photos I will share here are from my cellphone a couple years ago and from their website. That’s right, I’m a big scaredy cat to go there right now, even though they forgave me and said it was totally understandable that I had been annoyed. When I do go in, I will take them a big box of baked goods from the local bakery. A bakery called — I love this — The Mad Bakers.

I do love the library and I do love what they do for the community so I feel super, super guilty about being a jerk. I make sure to donate them or promote them whenever I can.

For a tiny library, they really do have a lot of variety of books. They have a great deal of Christian Fiction, which is popular in our area, but they also have a great deal of mysteries, popular books, and this month they added 65 new titles of tons of genres to their shelves. They hold a variety of programs throughout the year for all ages, but especially children and families.

We loved this magic show we attended there at the beginning of June.

In many ways, they are the center of the tiny community here (of 600 people in the entire town).

Another library I want to mention is one I visited once or twice as a child and teenager. That library, located in the little town of New Albany, Pa. was completely destroyed in 2018 when it was knocked of it’s foundation by rising flood waters. Quite a few people in our state have heard about the library because it was washed off it’s foundation and came to rest in the middle of a major highway. Or at least part of it came to rest there.

The New Albany Library before a flash flood knocked it off it’s foundation and into the middle of a highway. It was a surreal scene!

It was hit by flooding the week before it was knocked off it’s foundation, but I don’t think anyone thought that whole building, with a concrete foundation, would go down.

There was an apartment upstairs and the people who lived there were rescued by a member of the fire department who lived next door and whose home also was damaged. His home was again damaged last week in flooding.

Some of the damage from the library’s Facebook page in August 2018.
The library after it was pushed back off the highway so traffic could go through town. The highway is a major highway for truck traffic, etc.

The rest of the library, including books and documents, were scattered across the street, down the street, and downstream.

The library is still gone. The funding the governor (who came to inspect the site) and the state promised would come to replace it was never provided. The funding the county mentioned they might be able to obtain to rebuild it, also never came. Land has been donated to build a new library building, but so far there are no funds to complete the project. The state will also not allow the borough to go into the creek behind the space to clean it out and keep flooding from happening again so the residents of the borough again suffered damage last week when they, again, had flash flooding.

Following the Pennsylvania governor when he toured the site. I took photographs for the paper my husband was working for at the time.

There is a small little library-like set up in town, in front of the church, far away from where it normally floods. Books are placed in a structure that resembles an old British phone booth and patrons can take a book and replace it with another book.

Growing up I only visited the library a few times, but it was cozy and housed a great deal of local history. Its loss was a huge hit to a small town that has already taken many hits over the years.

Thanks for joining me for a tour of the libraries in my area. Now I hope you will hop over to Erin’s blog and check out her post about the libraries she attends and enjoys.

Sunday Bookends: A little bit of fishing, way too much rain, and I might actually finish three books this week

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, Sunday Bookends7 Comments

Welcome to my Sunday Bookends post where I talk about my previous week, including what I’m reading, watching, listening to, writing and doing.

This week our area was plagued by storms that caused some serious flooding, but luckily not widespread.

Every day we had a storm or at least a crazy downpour, and I started to tell my children they needed to get activities done before our usual afternoon storm.

Roads near us eroded and some are currently impassable.

A small town near me that suffered a great deal of damage two years ago, suffered again, only this time the library had already been washed into the center of a major highway so the high water couldn’t wash that way at least. This time there is an abandoned house about to fall into a creek because rushing water had washed away the creekbank and the ground around it.

Scout, our mischievous kitten, darted out to attempt adventure one day, but was stuck in one of the many storms when I couldn’t capture her to come back inside. I went out to check on my garden in between storms and she slunked across the yard from the neighbor’s outdoor patio, drenched. Usually she runs away from us when she is outside but this time she came right to me and seemed fairly happy when I scooped her up to carry her inside.

Last Sunday, again in between storms, my dad and Little Miss visited Dad’s pond for an impromptu fishing session.

They caught a couple of fish and let them go. While down there, I also startled a couple of fawns and they darted into the woods and a few minutes later two foxes started to call to each other.

On Thursday, I had to drive to our county seat to drop some paperwork off at the assessor’s office. I wanted to take the paperwork in and return home, but Little Miss had other ideas. She wanted to explore the town. Honestly, there isn’t much to explore in the town. Downtown has a handful of buildings, mostly county offices, a nursing home, and several homes. On a backstreet is the school campus, which includes the high school (grades 7 to 12) and elementary school all in one location. The school is the only school in the entire county, population 6,000 or so.

Somehow Little Miss sniffed out the only restaurant in town, a little cozy café. We ordered some fries and mozzarella sticks and while waiting for them, I received a call on my cellphone from the security man at the courthouse. I had left my keyfob for the van. The hook for it broke a few weeks ago so I can’t hook it to my keychain right now. I had placed it in the basket to go through the metal detector and forgot to take it out.

The man called the assessor’s office to see if they had my name and number. He knew how to find me by the sign-in sheet, but also because I was apparently the only person who had entered the courthouse all day. When we walked back to retrieve the key, he met me at the front door and after I mentioned I was taking some photos of the courthouse to share on my blog, he suggested we visit the museum at the back of the building.

Little Miss said she wanted to go but I later learned that was because she thought they would have dinosaur bones. She was sorely disappointed when it turned out they only had local artifacts such as military uniforms from various wars, weapons from the same wars, old pictures, and various other historical items. She also didn’t enjoy when the volunteer and I struck up a conversation about homeschooling that lasted for 45 minutes.

Our lives are so boring, that that short trip, which took about to and a half hours when it should have taken about 30, was the highlight of our week.

What I’m Reading

You are not going to believe this, or actually you will, but I am still reading the same books I’ve been reading for a couple of weeks now. However, I am almost done with The Cat Who Knew A Cardinal by Lilian Jackson Braun.

I also finished the first book in the Rembrandt Stone series, Cast the First Stone by David James Warren and started book two, No Stone Unturned. I am reading No Stone Unturned on my Kindle. I listened to the first one on Audible.

They are very quick, easy reads, written in serial form. The fourth on releases in August. I will probably have the second book finished by the end of today.

I will also most likely finish Journey to ChiYah by Kimberly Russell early this week.

Books I hope to read next include book three of the Rembrandt Stone series and the fourth book of the Walt Longmire series.

Little Miss and I started Little House in the Big Woods this week after finding Farmer Boy. We skipped Little House in the Big Woods when we started the series so we went back to read it.

What I’m Watching

For our anniversary, my husband and I went out to dinner and then we returned home and watched a movie without the kids, which is a rarity. The movie was Twilight with Paul Newman (my favorite actor), James Gardner, Susan Sarandon, and Gene Hackman. It was an interesting mystery and apparently when it came out in 1997, it bombed, which is sad because I thought it held up pretty good.

It probably came out around the same time as Titanic or something.

I’ve also been continuing to watch Jonathan Creek, a British mystery show and in traditional British fashion they are changing characters on me with little warning.

I have also been enjoying To The Manor Born, a British sitcom from the 70s.

Last Sunday I watched the final episode of season two for The Chosen. I am really looking forward to season three, whenever that comes out.

What I’m Writing

I’m writing…stuff. Mainly I’m finishing edits on Harvesting Hope and have started a new story that will probably be called A New Chapter.

What I’m Listening To

I’m still enjoying listening to the Unashamed podcast with three of the men from Duck Dynasty, but I’m very behind.

I also enjoyed listening to a sermon by Pastor Steven Furtick that I missed half of last week.

That’s my week in review. How about you? What are you reading, writing, watching, doing or listening to these days? Let me know in the comments.

Special Fiction Saturday: Harvesting Hope Chapter 24

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, fiction, Fiction Friday4 Comments

I am late posting today because I was hosting an author party on a Facebook group I am moderating. Regular readers here know I despise Facebook but a couple of months ago I joined again so I could be part of a readers’ group on there. I stumbled on to this other group as well and they needed a new administrator. I volunteered to help, but at the last minute the other person said they didn’t want to help, so there I was with a group to help run on my own. On a platform I despise. So I go on FB to post there and the other group and briefly on my author page and leave.

Anyhow, here is chapter 24. Regular readers know the drill, where the links are for past chapters, etc., etc.. I won’t bore you with all those links again. Let me know what you think the comments, as always. Also, sorry for another cliffhanger.

Chapter 24

Jason fell into the water on his hands and knees, trying to see the rest of the back seat and under the car. Maybe her body was trapped there, under the hood or roof or trunk. The car seemed to be smashed firmly into the muck and mud of the creek, though, not enough room for a body. Unless. . . he choked down the panic burning his throat, looked around behind him, searching the water and bank frantically.

Could she have been thrown from the car? He looked at the windshield under the water and it was cracked but not shattered.

He stood again, his clothes clinging to him, and shielded his eyes, looking downstream.

“Could she have —” He swallowed hard. “Been swept downstream?”

Denny shook his head. “I don’t see how. This creek’s not deep enough and there’s no current.

Jason pivoted in the water, facing them. “Then where is she?”

Denny raked a hand through his hair. “We’ll need to get a wrecker down here, something to flip this car over and be sure —”

“I don’t think she’s there,” Cody said abruptly.

Denny clutched his hair and blew out a breath. “I don’t want to think that way either, but she could be. We have to be realistic.”

Cody turned toward Denny, lowered his voice. “I’m not trying to be morbid, but I think we’d see some sign that she’s under there.”

Denny looked at the water, nodding. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“What about a bear? Could a bear have —”

“Kyle!” Cody’s voice was sharp as he jerked his head toward Jason who was still looking from one side of the bank to the other.

“Bears don’t usually eat cadavers.” The authoritative voice of the coroner silenced the group. Clint O’Malley tripped over a few stones on his way to the car but managed to stay upright. He stood calf deep in water next to Cody, frowning. “Are you boys telling me you called me out here without an actual person for me to declare dead?”

Cody placed his hands on his hips and cleared his throat, looking down at the water then glancing back up at Jason before he looked at Clint. “Ellie Lambert is missing.”

Clint looked at Jason standing a few feet away from him with a dazed expression on his face and blew out a quick breath, following it up with a curse word.

 He nodded at Cody. “Understand. What are our options here? Could she have survived and left the scene?”

Kyle, Denny, and Cody looked at each other and fell silent. Finally, Cody spoke. “Yeah, I think that’s a real possibility. We have to explore it at least.”

Clint looked at the car again. “You should also lift this car up and see what you find underneath it. Just to be sure.”

Jason’s chest constricted and his stomach burned. The idea of her pinned down by two tons of metal, her body mangled beyond recognition left him cold, even as the humidity was rising. Dark clouds hovered along the horizon, visible through the trees. If a storm wasn’t coming, there was at least going to be a shower. Rain would wash away any clues if Ellie had somehow walked away.

“Cody!” Tucker Everly’s voice echoed into the ravine. “We have a possible witness and survivor up here.”

Jason’s head jerked up, his brow furrowed as he looked up at Tucker, who’d been among the volunteers he’d trained with the most when he’d started with the department a few months ago.

“Luke found Brad Tanner along the road about a mile up. He has a gash on his head and his face is a mess. He can’t remember anything about last night but woke up along the bank by the creek this morning. He says he vaguely remembers being in the car with Ellie last night.”

All the men’s eyes were on Jason again.

“I drove him home last night,” Jason said, more to himself than anyone else. “I don’t understand. Why would he be in Ellie’s car?”

He stood and started climbing the bank toward the road, confusion and anger rising with each step. “Where is he?”

Tucker grabbed his hand and helped him the last few steps, then nodded toward a maroon pickup pulling in.

“Luke just pulled in with him.”

By the time Jason reached the passenger side of the truck at a full on jog, his mood had reached a dangerous level of rage. Brad opened the door, and he didn’t even wait for him to climb out. He grabbed the front of his cousin’s shirt and dragged him out, slamming him hard against the side of the truck. “Where is she?” the question hissed out of Jason between clenched teeth. “What happened?”

Brad held his hands up, palms out, shaking his head. “Jason, I don’t know. I can’t remem—”

Jason slammed his back hard against the truck again. “Tell me what happened or I swear I’ll  —”

“Jason!” Luke grabbed his arms, pulled him back. “He wreaks of booze and shows all the signs of a concussion. He’s not going to be any help in this shape. The EMTs need to look at him.”

Jason tightened his grip on Brad’s shirt, breathing hard, jaw tight, eyes focused on Brad’s scrunched up face, his eyes squeezed tight as if waiting for Jason to punch him. Jason slammed Brad back against the truck again “They can look at him after I finish with him.”

“Jason!” Alex’s voice behind Jason distracted him long enough for one of the EMTs to grab one of his arms while Alex grabbed the other.  “This isn’t helping.”

Alex and the EMT pulled until Jason let go of Brad’s shirt. Alex pressed a hand against Jason’s chest. “You need to calm down.”

Jason shook them both off with a jerk of his arms and walked to the side of the road, sitting on a stump next to a tree. He propped his arms on his knees and clenched his fists in front of him as Alex walked over and stood above him.

“When did you get here?” he asked Alex.

“Maybe ten minutes ago. Cody filled me in. I was on my way down the bank when I saw you coming up.” He knelt next to Jason, propped on his own knee. “Walt called your dad. He heard the chatter on the scanner.”

Jason’s head jerked up. “Did they say Ellie’s name on the scanner?”

Alex shook his head. “No. Just that there was a car in the water. Walt thought it might be Brad. He didn’t come home last night, but no one thought much of it. He’s been doing that a lot since he got back.” He placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, his voice low. “They’re going to start a search, spread out and walk in a circle about a mile away to see if they can find any sign of her. They’ve also got a team coming in from Wyoming County to walk the creek with them and another water search and rescue crew.”

Jason looked at the ground, nodding. After a few seconds of silence, he stood abruptly. “Okay. I’m going to head out then. Can you call her parents, fill in Molly and Mom?”

Alex stood. “Yeah, but I’m going with you.”

Jason nodded. “That’s fine. I’m not waiting for the search teams, though. You’ve got five minutes to meet me on the other side of the creek.”

He pivoted and started down the embankment, not giving Alex any time to respond.

The way Clint squeezed his shoulder on his way back to his truck left a hard lump of dread in Jason’s gut.

“Call me if I’m needed,” he said softly.

God, please, don’t let us need him, Jason prayed as he collected gear from his truck and headed down the embankment toward the creek.

“Where are you going, Jase?”

He ignored Cody’s question, kept walking through the creek, past the wreckage of the car, and toward the embankment on the other side.

“Just keep your phone on you in case you need us, or we need you,” Cody called after him.

Alex fell in step with him when he reached the top of the bank on the other side of the wreckage and started toward a more wooded area.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she went looking for help? If so, why didn’t she just go on the road?”

“I don’t know.”

“She should have had a cell on her —”

“I don’t know.”

Alex fell silent and they continued to walk, sweat beading on their skin and soaking their backs.

“It just needs to rain already,” Alex mumbled.

“If it rains, I won’t be able to find her tracks.” He didn’t add, “If there are any,” because he didn’t want to think there wouldn’t be.

“Good point.”

The humidity sucked air from his lungs with each breath and a crack of thunder signaled they should seek shelter rather than keep walking, but he wasn’t about to stop. If Ellie was alive, he was going to find her. If she wasn’t alive, he still needed to find her. Her family needed closure. He’d hurt them so much already. He couldn’t hurt them again.

At the top of the hill the woods faded into a wide open field. Jason stopped walking and bent over, hands on knees, catching his breath, chest burning.

Alex did the same. “How can we both be in such good shape, yet that hill almost kill us?”

“The humidity isn’t helping.”

“How much further should we walk? If she was injured she —”

“I don’t know.”

There was a lot he didn’t know.

Fire still burned through his chest when he stood up and started walking again.

God, please. Help me find her.

In twenty minutes, they had walked the length of the field, down over a hill, and back up another one. Jason turned and looked behind him, estimating they had already walked a mile and a half from the accident scene. She couldn’t have walked this far, could she have? Maybe she hadn’t been able to walk. Dear God, maybe she was under that car. Maybe the wrecker had come, helped overturn the car and her body was lifeless in that creek bed. He clasped his hands behind his head, breathing hard. Pressing his arms against his head, he intertwined his fingers, and choked back a sob.

“God,” he hit his knees, pressed his hands into the dirt in front of him, bowing his head toward the ground. “Please, please don’t take Ellie from me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for my stubbornness. For all my mistakes. Please, give me a second chance with her.”

In a few minutes, after sobbing until his chest and back ached, he became aware of Alex kneeling beside him, his hand on his back. They stayed that way for several minutes and when Jason sat back, he noticed Alex’s face was damp as well.

Alex shook his head, dragging a hand across his cheeks, and stood. “We’re not giving up. Come on. Maybe she tried to take a shortcut over this hill to get to the Bradley farm and call for help.”

Jason dragged his hand across his face and stood slowly. “That sounds like something she’d do. Go to get help for even a moron like Brad.” He brushed the dirt off his jeans and spit at the ground. “He better have some answers for me when I get back.”

“We can think about that later.” Alex started down the hill. Jason started to follow him when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the caller ID, but answered it anyhow, hoping it was a member of the fire department, telling him they had found her. Alive.

“Jason?”

“Judi?”

“Jason, have you found her?”

“No. Not yet.”

Judi’s voice broke. “They flipped her car over and she’s not there. Where is she? Where is my sister?”

“I don’t know, Judi. I’ll keep looking. Are you with your parents?”

Judi’s sobs came through the phone. “Yes. I’m at their house. Jason, if you find her, however you find her, you have to tell her I’m sorry. We had a big fight the other night and I told her I hated her and that I hated being her sister —” Her voice faded to a tearful whisper. “Oh God. I don’t hate her. God, please don’t let her be dead.”

He wanted to offer her encouragement, but he wasn’t sure how, when his heart felt as hopeless as hers at the moment. “Judi.” His voice broke and he tried again. “Judi, I want you to pray. If you can’t pray, ask your parents to pray with you. As soon as I know anything I’ll call you. Keep your phone next to you, okay?”

He could almost see Judi in his mind nodding as he heard her crying. “Okay. I will.” She took a deep breath. “Jason?”

He looked out over the farmland in front of him, red barns, cows in fences, fields being planted with sileage to feed the cows in winter. “Yeah.”

“She loves you so much. I don’t know why she’s being so stubborn right now, but she’s always loved you and I know she still loves you.”

He swallowed hard, tears blurring his vision. The way she referred to Ellie in the present tense made his heart ache with a glimmer of hope that she still was in the present tense. “Thank you, Judi. Keep the phone next to you.”

“Jason!”

He’d lost sight of Alex, but now he could hear him shouting from somewhere on the other side of the hill.

He took off in the direction of the voice, almost catching his foot in a groundhog hole as he ran. Alex was running toward him, his face flushed. “I found her.”

Book Review: Sarah’s Choice by Pegg Thomas

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn book reviews, books and reading, everyday musings2 Comments

Book: Sarah’s Choice

Author: Peggy Thomas

Genre: Christian Historical Fiction

Release date: August 3, 2021 (preorder here).

Bottom line: Four stars out of five. Heart pounding read. Not for the faint of heart.

My review: If you are a lover of historical fiction in all it’s raw and gritty detail then Sarah’s Choice is a book you want to pick up.
It is well-written with vivid descriptions and heart pounding action.
The story is well-paced throughout but really picks up in Chapter 2 and goes full force from there.
I had a hard time putting it down, chewing my fingernails much of the book, even though I’m not normally a fingernail chewer.
Pegg Thomas is an award winning author and it looks like she has another winner on her hands with this one.

The characters are engaging and clutch at your heart, leaving an impression you’ll certainly feel for days, if not longer, after you finish the book.
I will, however, warn you that this isn’t a book where you will find a message of forgiveness, toward the natives who lived on the land before the settlers came. If you are looking for a well-rounded view of the early history of settlers, you’re not going to find it here. One reason you won’t find it here is because the author, by her own admission, is presenting one viewpoint. That isn’t a bad position, since it is the point of view of the characters, it’s just the full story, which again, Pegg reiterates on her Goodreads page:

“Because I’d recently researched Pontiac’s Rebellion for a novella, it was fresh in my mind. It was a harsh, even brutal event in American history, and I knew it would provide the backdrop that Sarah’s story needed. Sarah’s Choice does not present all sides of the conflict, instead, it is seen only through the eyes of Sarah and Cully.

I hope to give the reader a glimpse of what happened in a time and place that was incredibly volatile from the perspective of the people caught up it in unawares. It was not my intent to interject 21st-century norms or ideals into the 18th century. It does no good to look at history through the modern lens. What happened, happened. It’s history to be learned from, warts and all.“

There is only one opinion of Native Americans held in the mind of the main character throughout the book, right up until the end. Her feelings were valid considering all she had been through, however, which is what makes the book very authentic (uncomfortably so).

19 years and counting

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings12 Comments

So, here we are at 19 years of marriage and counting.

Let’s be honest, there were days we never thought we’d make it here.

Marriage isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like the old movies used to tell us, is it?

It’s a lot more like a war zone some days. A war zone where after the battle you find yourselves holding on tighter instead of letting go, even though part of you really, truly, and absolutely wants to let go.

Letting go wouldn’t really help though. Sure, you’d make a stand, make it clear you’ve drawn the line, you’ve had enough and all the pain you’ve caused each other over the years is simply not worth it anymore.But it would all be a lie.The pain is often very much worth it and the idea that you can walk away from someone who has become your best friend as much as they have become your adversary at times is absurd.

Part of your heart will always be with that person.

There are days you will sit across from that person you married, and you will think, “What am I still doing here?” You’ll hurt like you’ve been split open on an operating table and realize this person who said they’d protect you and care for you in sickness and in health is the one who inflicted the wounds and that you inflicted a few back yourself.

You’ll narrow your eyes, study their face, wonder who they are and who you might be if you picked up all your things, signed the papers, and left for good. While you’re narrowing your eyes, you’ll see something beyond the person who is annoying you at that moment, though. You’ll see laughter. You’ll see joyful tears. You’ll see loyalty, support, empathy, and caring that came when the anger had faded when the hurt had subsided, when the doubts threatened to rip it all apart.You’ll see late nights laughing at old movies, shared looks over inside jokes, deep hugs, sweet kisses, holding babies late into the night, moments of being rescued when you deserved to be sacrificed, walks in the park, drives in the night, grief being borne, molds being broken.

You’ll see that marriage is not all rainbows and sunshine but sometimes both seeps in and pushes out the dark; that there will be more sunshine and rainbows than rain and gloom. You’ll see that love is not just about the good moments, but also about the bad. It’s about shattering in a million pieces and picking up the pieces sometimes alone, sometimes together, often with only God to help you find the pieces you lost somewhere along the way.

19 years of marriage is sometimes about being broken but being broken together.It wasn’t always easy, it wasn’t always clean, it wasn’t always a fairy tale and there have been endings that haven’t been happily ever after but there have also been new beginnings full of hope, middles full of laughter, and backstories that will shape future stories for the better, not the worst.

How many times did we want to walk away? How many times should we probably have? How many times, though, did we sit across from each other look up and not see pain or heartache or loss, betrayal or darkness, and instead saw someone who had been our best friend in the midst of, and despite, it all?

19 years.

We made it.

We fought for it.

We slew dragons and kicked demons in the face.

We stomped the heads of the serpent over and over and we will do it over and over again.

We were broken and rebuilt, broken and rebuilt.

We have wrinkles and gray hair, weight we want to lose, memories we want to forget.

But we made it.

Together.

And we’ll do it again and again until God tells us it’s time to come home, we’ve run our race, we’ve done what He called us to do and who he called us to do it with.

Happy 19th anniversary, Warren, and here’s to many more.

(Photo from all those years ago – first year of marriage).

Sunday Bookends: Giraffes, lions and goats. Oh my.

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings9 Comments

Welcome to my weekly post where I recap my week by writing about what I’ve been reading, watching, writing, doing, and sometimes what I’ve been listening to.

Friday night I crawled into bed around 11:30. On one side of me was a 6-year old little girl with sun burnt cheeks and nose, clutching a stuffed baby giraffe and clearly asleep. Next to her was a friendly kitten who had already extracted a series of pets from me. In the space where my feet should have been was a Shetland sheepdog mix and the feet of the aforementioned child.

My arms and face, chest and back of my neck were hot to the touch. Events of the day raced through my mind, most of them good a couple of them could have been bad, scary and life changing.

It had been a full day and I was beat, but glad to have experienced it all.

We started the week planning to take a few day trips for my husband’s vacation. Instead, hot and muggy weather and a series of thunderstorms throughout the week kept us home until Friday. We’d also planned to visit my 88-year old aunt that day, taking my dad (her brother) with us. I talked to my aunt Tuesday and by Wednesday she was in the hospital. In the end my dad went to see her while we went to Animal Adventure Park, which is the park in Harpursville, N.Y. that became famous a few years ago when everyone in the world, it seems, was waiting for April the giraffe to give birth and then watched her do just that.

My aunt is doing better but we are not sure when she will go home or if she will go to rehab. They believe a severe urinary tract infection caused her to become disoriented. By the time my dad got to see her, her mind had cleared, luckily.

It’s been two years since we’ve been at the adventure park, so my daughter had forgot a lot about what they had to offer, but she had a blast. She’s an animal enthusiast so she liked to talk to the animals while she fed them. She was most fascinated with the goats, which I found odd since we can see goats just about anywhere around us. We do not, however, see African lions, African penguins,  giraffes, and monkeys around our home. I am most fascinated with the giraffes because they are so friendly and tall. We’re not allowed to pet them but people are allowed to feed them carrots. It is very hard not to pet them when they reach up over the fence with their large heads.

April, who we loved visiting when we first went there, passed away this April. She was euthanized after a long bout of arthritis made it difficult for her to stand any longer, which is, of course, something giraffes need to do to survive. A member of the staff chatted with me about it and said how hard it was. The owner of the facility, Jordan Patch, asked the entire staff for their opinion before the final decision was made and it was very hard on all of them, she said.

There is a statue in honor of April and her son Azizi in the front of the park. Azizi was sent to another facility and passed away from a severe stomach issue sometime this year, or last. April’s other son Tajiri, the one everyone watch being born, is still at the facility, along with his father Oliver. They also have two other giraffes, Jahari (I am sure I have that spelled wrong) who they think may be pregnant and Desmond.

I honestly thought we might never be able to leave there. My daughter wanted to go around and around again and again, but mainly wanted to keep feeding the goats. Even my son enjoyed conversing with the goats. His biggest fascination, however, was the monkeys. He loves monkeys and I have no idea why. One species of monkeys had just had a baby two days before we were there. The squirrel monkeys had also recently had babies and they looked like little aliens.

We enjoyed watching them feed the lions. The male lion and the lioness had a small tumble about four feet away from us, which was pretty cool to watch. They have a mix of African lions and Timbavati White Lions.

Little Miss was also able to hold a joey, or a baby Kangaroo (for a fee of course) and thoroughly enjoyed that, even when it almost scratched her eye out.

I will probably share some extra photographs from the day there in a post later this week.

What I’m Reading

I finished a book by Elizabeth Maddrey called So You Want A Second Chance. It was what some call a “billionaire romance” but it was much different than other such romances. There was less focus on “oh he’s got money and she doesn’t” and more focus on the couple who had known each other years before and reconnected after the man has a heart attack. This couple was also an “older couple” in their 50s instead of the younger couples these books usually feature. It was nice to see a book focus on the older generation (since I am slowly becoming a member of that group).

I am still reading The Cat Who Knew A Cardinal by Lillian Jackson Braun and I also went back to finish Maggie by Charles Martin which I abandoned months ago because it was pretty depressing.

For fun I am reading Ready to Trust by Tina Radcliffe, a Love Inspire Romance.


What I’m Watching

Since my husband’s vacation was mostly sweated and rained out (hot temps and then thunderstorms, as I mentioned above) we watched old movies and shows most of the week.

We watched two classics I had never seen, The Birds, and Double Indemnity.

I also watched episode seven of The Chosen and loved it, especially the interaction between Quintis and Jesus. You can watch the episode on The Chosen app, which you can download to your phone or tablet, and then cast to your TV, or watch right on your phone or tablet.

We watched three or four episodes of Lovejoy as well.

What I’m Listening To

I am listening to an audio book by David James Warren (which is actually three authors) from the Rembrandt Stone series. I don’t listen to audiobooks very often. I prefer reading books but I signed up for a book tour for the fourth book in this series in August so I have a lot of reading to do before I get a copy of that book. I’m enjoying it so far. It’s a time-travel mystery/thriller

What I’m Writing

I am working through revisions and edits of Harvesting Hope for the next month since it comes out on Amazon on August 12, so that’s mainly what I wrote this past week.

On the blog I shared a Tell Me More About post with author Robin W. Pearson.

So that’s my week in review. What have you been reading, doing, watching, or writing lately? Let me know in the comments.