A Hazen Flea Market ABC

Today was the first Hazen Flea Market
of the 2015 season.
If you weren't there,
there was MUCH that you missed.
Following is a small amount of the bargains
arranged in ABC order
for those of us
who are slightly OCD.

A is for antique axes

B is for bikes

and baskets

and bungees.

C is for chains.

D is for dresses

and droopy dogs.

E is for enamelware.

F is for fuel filters.

G is for glasses, great groups of glasses

and guns.

H is for hats

and hard helmets.

I is for inquiries about ironware

and inflatable Batman.

J is for jerky.

Silent K is for knives.

L is for lollipops.

M is for Matchbox cars

and many milk bottles.

N is for neighbors and other nice people.

O is for oven mitts.

P is for pillows

and plates.

Q is for quilts.

R is for rubber duckies.

S is for scrubbies

and signs

and stars.

T is for tools

and toys.

U is for United States uniforms.

V is for vans.

W is for waders

and wagon wheels

and wreaths.

X is for boXes.

Y is for, yes, Yamaha. 

There were Zillions of things we didn't get.
What DID we buy?
Maple syrup,
a small piece of petrified wood,
and two magnifiers.

The next Hazen Flea Market
is June 6.
Maybe we'll see you there.

A Move to Taiwan

Perhaps you have heard the news
that our son Paul and his family
are moving in July
to Kaohsiung, Taiwan.
Though he and Kate were happy with their jobs in State College--
Paul was in charge of study abroad and internship programs
for the College of Science at Penn State
and Kate was working on a two-year grant
on Pennsylvania businesses
for WPSU,
the local public radio station,
both jobs were full-time, year-round positions
and they wanted to spend more time with their kids.
Anna is six
and Lucy is three,
lovely children.

Ten blessings about the upcoming move:
1. Kate has always wanted to teach.
She will teach middle school English
 at Morrison Academy,
the international school that she was graduated from,
though at a different campus.
2. Paul will work as a consultant for Morrison for one year,
then perhaps work in Morrison's administration
developing an internship program for high school students.
3. Kate has been offered opportunities
to continue to pitch radio stories
as well as teach a class in radio journalism.
4. Paul will also continue to work remotely for Penn State
on a part-time basis
and will continue to run and teach
their summer biology course in Tanzania.
5. Anna will be able to bike to school with Kate.
6. Lucy will be able to stay at home with Paul.
7. Their family will have the perfect environment to learn Chinese,
 something they have always wanted.
8. They will be living on the top floor
of an apartment building on campus
that is FULL of young families.
Playmates will be available all the time!
9. Kate's brother lives in Taiwan.
10. They will be a short flight away
from Kate's parents
and extensive family
in the Philippines.


What else could we expect from Intracultural Studies majors?
Paul drove in the UK before he had his license in the States
and has swum in the Sea of Galilee.
He travelled alone to the Dominican Republic when in high school,
had a semester in London during college,
and has had adventures in Switzerland
and Spain
and Morocco.
Kate traveled the world
as a recruiter for Houghton College.
They spent their first years of married life
in a house with a giant boulder in the living room
among hippos
and a variety of snakes
in Tanzania.
God has plans for their family
and we trust Him
and them.

But Oh.
Oh.
Oh...
We will miss them.
Please keep us in your prayers
as our minds wrap around
this change.

Fire Whistle Prayers

Longer than I can remember,
each time there is a fire whistle
I have stopped my lessons
for a moment of silence.
I tell my kids
"If your family prays,
use this time to pray for the people in trouble
and the helpers.
If your family doesn't pray,
you can think happy thoughts."

There are only two times I can remember
when I have not stopped and prayed
at the sound of the fire whistle.
One was in the fall of 1993
when Den and I
were at Luke's second grade parent-teacher conference
with Miss Hanak.
"So... what is Luke like in class?"
"He reminds me of my dog.
He looks at me with those big eyes
and tries hard to do what I ask."
Oklahoma's siren blared.
We continued to talk.
After the conference,
Den and I went for a few groceries
and ran into a friend.
"What's going on up on the mountain?
All kinds of fire engines are up there."
We found out
when we were greeted at our mailbox
by a fireman.
The leaves that Den had burned a few days ago,
the spot that just that morning
had frost on the ashes,
had rekindled in the bluster of fall winds.
Fire had burned through the forest,
around the house
and almost to the barn
but the only casualty
was the outhouse
and its license plate collection.
I was chagrined.
It was the only time in years
that I hadn't prayed
and it was our property.

I thought of that day this past Monday
as Penfield's fire whistle sounded.
Deep in windy playground conversation with the fifth grade teacher,
I did not stop to pray.
A short time later as we re-entered the school,
my class smelled smoke
and the siren went off a second time.
We stopped then
for a moment of silence.
I was curious where the fire was.
"Right up the valley.
Caledonia.
A fire is burning up to the ridges
and the fire plane has been called."

When I went home that night
I was primed to tell Den about the Caledonia fire.
"So... how was your day?" I began.
"Eventful...."
"Forest fire?" I teased.
Den's eyes widened.
"How did you know?"

The second fire whistle,
the one we had prayed for,
was the Caledonia fire.
The first fire whistle,
the one I ignored
for the second time in my life,
was our property.
Again.

I am still shaking my head,
thankful for the minimal damage
but a bit weirded out.

Epilogue:
In Den's defense,
once again the fire had been out for two days
and he had checked it
multiple times each day.
He would never burn on a windy day.
Our new rule is
"Only burn when there is snow on the ground."
Two companies' brush trucks were needed to put out the fire,
but five companies,
Rockton,
Brady,
Oklahoma,
Grampian,
Penfield,
and the DCNR showed up,
just to be safe.
The fire was contained on our acreage.
One tanker sunk in our soggy yard.
Den has a blister on his thumb.

Eleven Things You Should Know About Saint Patrick

 During March,
we hear much about leprechauns
and pots of gold
and rainbows
and green beverages
but there is more to Saint Patrick's Day than that--
 there's Saint Patrick himself!
 Here are eleven things you should know about Saint Patrick.

1. Patrick wasn't Irish.
He was born and raised in Britain
and called Patricius.
When he was sixteen
he was taken to Ireland by Irish pirates,
or as they say on the Emerald Isle,
"Oirish" pirates.
He was sold as a slave to Miliucc
and watched sheep.

2. Patrick prayed. A lot.
While he watched Miliucc's sheep
he was hungry.
Cold.
Alone
(except for hundreds of sheep)
and lonely.
Patrick says that he sometimes
prayed a hundred times
day and night.
The bad news is:
Patrick was a slave.
The good news is:
while being a slave,
Patrick met God.

3. Patrick trusted God for miracles.
A voice said, "Look, your ship is ready!"
so he left the sheep,
ran away,
and got on a ship leaving Ireland.
It landed in a desolated place
with no food.
The ship's captain taunted Patrick:
"How about it, Christian?
Pray for us.
We're starving to death!"
Patrick prayed
and a herd of pigs appeared.
Pork chops!
Though sadly, probably no bacon.

4. Patrick loved his enemies.
Even though he loved seeing his family again,
in a dream,
a voice from Ireland
said, "We beg you to come."
And. He. Went. Back.

5. Patrick used what the Irish already believed
to teach them about God.
The people in Ireland
had been worshipping the sun.
Patrick told them
about the God who created the sun
and sent his Son, Jesus
who died
on a cross
for them.
The two symbols,
the circular sun
and the traditional cross
were combined to make a Celtic cross.

6. Patrick's followers taught stories from the Bible
by carving pictures on the Celtic crosses.
They did this
because most people couldn't read.

This carving of the feeding of the five thousand is going to take all night!

 7. The part about Patrick
chasing the snakes out of Ireland
is not true.
Have you ever tried to chase snakes?
It's almost as hard as herding cats!
Actually,
there were no snakes in Ireland
but he devil is sometimes portrayed as a snake
and Patrick did all he could
to chase the devil out of Ireland.

8. The part about Patrick
using a shamrock
to teach about the holy trinity
may not be true, either.
But shamrocks grow in Ireland
and sometime he may have used a shamrock
in his teaching
and just didn't write it down.

9. We celebrate Saint Patrick's Day on March 17,
but March 17 is not Patrick's birthday.
It's his death day.
Though that's KIND OF like a birthday
because Patrick look his first breath in Heaven that day.

10. Patrick may have written a famous prayer
now called "Saint Patrick's Breastplate."
Some people have turned parts of it into a song.
Want to hear it?
Click Christ Be All Around Me.





11. Actually, I was kidding about there being eleven things.
There are only ten.
Or maybe twenty-three.
You can learn more about Saint Patrick
by reading
How the Irish Saved Civilization
by Thomas Cahill

 or Saint Patrick of Ireland
by Philip Freeman

or
if you like pictures
and are short on time,
the children's book
Patrick: Patron Saint of Ireland
by Tomie dePaola.

Many blessings,
Irish blessings,
this season and always.

Sue

PS. Don't want to be done yet with Irish thoughts?
Try Robin Mark's Irish worship song Ancient Words.
Den and I have visited Robin Mark's church in Belfast
and have sung this song in worship.
It ties us in to the centuries.

How about celebrating with traditional Irish music?
The Chieftains play O'Sullivan's March,
a music video whose opening shots
are of the above-mentioned Celtic cross
and Croagh Patrick,
Saint Patrick's mountain
that Den and I climbed
but not barefoot like some traditionally do.
Sharp rocks!

Or a song from my growing-up years,
the Irish Rovers'  Unicorn Song.

Or Northern Irishman James Galway's  Danny Boy.

Still reading?
I close with the traditional Irish blessing:

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
the rain fall soft upon your fields
and until we meet again,
may GOD hold you in the palm of his hand.

Now go eat a potato.
                        

Perfect Gifts

In the last three months
I have received three perfect gifts:
1. a Big Bad Wolf doll
that eats Grandma
that Paul's family found at IKEA
2. a book titled "What If?"
that answers bizarre questions like
"What would happen
if the earth stopped turning?"
from science-son Luke
3. a remote-controlled,
battery-operated candle
from Uncle Jack
so I won't set the house on fire again.
Never leave a burning candle unattended.

Last week
I received yet another Perfect Gift:
Heidi gave me a t-shirt
emblazoned "Dances With Squirrels."
It came with a card that said
"To appreciate nonsense
requires a serious
interest in life."




Heidi and I started our nonsense in elementary school.
We sat beside each other,
skinny sixth graders
in the condemned Second Avenue building,
spending our spare time
writing notes in code
for the guys behind us to crack.
We were partners
on the class trip
to the Hershey zoo.
In junior high,
we cultivated new friendships
as she became the cheerleading mascot
while I spent hours with the band
and our paths diverged.

Forty five years later
we are again together in school,
she in third grade
and me in first grade
at Penfield Elementary.
It didn't take long to renew our friendship.
We were two old dogs,
circling and sniffing,
tails tentatively wagging,
catching up.
We have much in common
besides DAHS class of '74:
Cat dilemmas.
Aging mothers.
Love of quotes.
Goodwill bargains.
Appreciation of Einstein.
Children's literature.
We ask each other doggy questions:
How was the cancer?
Ruff.
Why is the hall wet?
Roof.
What do you think of Kate DiCamillo?
Grrrrrrrrrrrrr... great!
We compare doggy brains
and find that both are powered by squirrels.
Her squirrel runs nicely in her wheel,
analyzing situations,
neatly making to-do lists.
My brain hosts a family of hyperactive squirrels
who take their wheel apart
to see how it works
and then crank up the music
and boogie.
Heidi organizes
Read Across America Night
while I dress up as Clifford
and pelt kids with snowballs.
She reads the morning announcements
in a calm, quiet voice
while I make my loud, annoying math puppet Claw
read when it's my turn.
She catalogues the book room;
I greet kids dressed as Mother Nature
when the seasons change.
She makes me think.
I make her laugh,
and I love that
she appreciates my humor.

This week
when I took down our cardinal pictures in the hall
I could not bring myself
to throw away the ripped-paper letters
so I rearranged them instead
and added my own picture.
Heidi laughed,
shook her head,
and said I should blog about it.
And I have.


May your squirrels dance this week
as you contemplate perfect gifts.
Friendship is one of them.
 

Pennywhistles, Painted Nails, and Prayers

Last night
we braved the icy roads
and took the jeep to State College
to see the Chieftains,
Ireland's premiere musicians,
in concert at Eisenhower Auditorium.
We arrived early to visit the grandgirls.
Den taught six-year-old Anna
how to play Kings,
a checker game he learned from his mom,
while I assisted three-year-old Lucy
in using silly putty
to make grapes
and grilled cheese sandwiches
for her sick stuffed animals.
Then Anna showed me Shelby's bucket of nail polish.
"Would you like to do my nails?" I asked.
Anna was thrilled.
"Wow! Yes!
I've never been allowed
to do the painting before!"
We sat down at the dining table
with paper towels
and a wide selection of polish.
"What color would you like, Grammy?"
"You choose for me."
Pale yellow and orange
alternated on the left hand,
plain with sparkly blue on the right.



I used to wear nail polish in my teens and twenties
as my mother had encouraged me
in the small habits of ladyhood,
but one day my friend Janet observed
"Your polish is always chipped.
Your nails are different lengths.
Why do you bother?"
She had a point.
From that day on,
I gave up polish.
Until yesterday.

I went to the Chieftains concert with flashy nails.
We sat at the edge of the first tier,
Den in his Aran fisherman's knit
and me in my green Donegal Irish sweater.
I leaned over the edge to see if anyone else had dressed thematically.
Two people in green.
Three guys in wool driving caps.
I then estimated the auditorium's seating capacity
and also had fun
with my green laser pointer
until Den encouraged me to put it away.
Then Paddy Moloney
carried in his pennywhistles and uilleann pipes
and Matt Molloy his flute.
There was a bodhran
and a guitarist
and two fiddles
and a harp
and a mandolin player.
There were Irish dancers
and a Scottish vocalist
and the Nittany Children's Choir
and a local step dance class
and Jaffa bagpipers 
and a family from Canada,
The Next Generation Leahy
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXd_dSkScvg,
whose amazing dancers just kept getting tinier.

We closed our eyes
and we were back in Ireland
in Matt Molloy's pub in Westport.
We could almost smell the whiskey.

Irish instrumental music
is the happiest
and the saddest
in the world.
The bodhran thumps in your chest
and the vibrations hit your toes.
The pennywhistle wavers in your ear
and your eyes mist.
And not a word is spoken.
Perhaps music is interpreted in a different part of the brain,
having no interface with letters
or words.
It is a language all its own.
Our friend Barry said
that perhaps the Psalms
are the Irish music of the Bible.
Great joy
and lament.

During the night's final number,
audience members were encouraged to hold hands in a line
and dance their way through the aisles.
I dashed from the balcony to join them.
As we stomped enthusiastically across the stage,
the lady behind Den asked,
"Which one is your wife?"
"The one in the green sweater
and tan boots."
"She looks like a leprechaun."

Today I decided to start wearing nail polish again--
but only on my left little finger.
The polish will remind me
of Anna's first try at polishing
and of that pennywhistle night
of joy and lament.
When I notice my little fingernail
I will pray for my grandgirls,
for Anna
and for Lucy,
that they will live lives of much joy
and encounter grace in the sorrows.





P.S. Not to be outdone by her older sister,
Lucy
(with help from Shelby)
painted Den's toenails
bubblegum pink.

P.P.S.  Want to hear the Chieftains?
Click below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7pDiO52xSs

The Cow Almost Jumped Over the Moon

It's been an interesting 24 hours.

1.     11:30 AM Friday
For Valentines Day,
I wanted my class to read  
The Missing Tarts by B.G. Hennessey,
a story about the Queen of Hearts
and various nursery rhyme characters.
The problem was that
current first graders don't know many nursery rhymes
so I read Mother Goose
to my group of littles
before we went off on our tart hunt.
"Hey Diddle Diddle,
the cat and the fiddle,
the cow jumped over the moon..."
and many others,
the same rhymes
my grandma Maud
had taught me
long ago.

2.     1:30ish PM Friday
Paul and Kate and the grandgirls
fly over the North Pole
enroute from Hong Kong to Newark
coming home from Kate's brother's wedding in Manila,
perhaps the longest flight possible
over The Top Of The World.

3.     9:30 AM Saturday
I find an old frame,
a Goodwill purchase that I had hoped would fit an African print
but didn't.

4.     10:30 AM, Saturday
Upstairs, an unused heating pipe cracks in two places
due to cold temperatures.
Water pours into the study and the basement.
As we drag accumulations
of the stuff of life
from the wet closets,
I find Paul's second grade entry to a PTA art contest.
He had tried to draw a fox
but it looked better as a cow.
He put it on the moon
because not all cows can actually make it over the moon.

5.     11:30 AM, Saturday
The cow, 4,
is now in the frame, 3,
that reminds me of voyages over planets, 2,
and my grandmother's nursery rhymes
and Valentines Day
and the pleasure of sharing memories with small children, 1.

The framed cow now looks down on the parlor
reminding us
that life is a trip
and not all trips go as planned.
Today, if you find yourself like the puzzled cow,
far from where you thought you'd be,
take a minute
and sit down
and enjoy the view.