"I Think It's a Balance Thing ..."

     As it happens, my dad is a big Science Fiction fan, and one of the shows that he enjoys is a show called "The X-Files". We don't normally watch it, not being quite as big fans, but every so often, Dad will find an episode he thinks we'd really like and shows it to us.

     One such episode was "The Goldberg Variation".  In it, a man named Henry Weems appears to be the luckiest man alive; but every time he gets lucky, someone around him has something bad happen to them.  As he explains it to Agent Mulder, "I think it's a balance thing. Something good happens to me and everybody else has to take it in the keister."
     During the last year, it seems like everyone we talked to has "taken it in the keister." It's a vicious cycle that never, ever, ends. In the last three months especially our immediate family has been hurting and for the longest time we couldn't figure out why.

One example of a Rube Goldberg Machine

     But then Bird and Reaganite, observant people that they are, realized that at the time our troubles started, the Vatican's Synod on the Family was beginning. It is entirely possible that we were spiritually taking it in the keister for the Church, as I am positive that other Catholic Faithful were as well. Now, there were other good things happening closer to home too, but my belief is that it was a combination of them that was pushing us towards a cliff edge. After all, we are all connected through the communion of saints, and Henry Weem's Rube Goldberg machines (characterized by a cause and effect sequence of tricks)  didn't ever consist of just one trick.
     Just recently, in the last couple of weeks, it seems that our troubles are slowing down, and it is 95.5% certain that we won't go careening off the cliff.
     Yesterday, however, my aunt called and said that one of our extended family member's mom was sick and his nephew had been in a car crash. We hadn't heard anything but good news from the extended family all while we were having our problems. Reaganite called this weekend too, and said that he was having some problems, but said he wouldn't elaborate until after they were over. And so, it's a balance thing. When something good happens, someone gets hurt. When the pressure lets up on someone, it squeezes someone else.
     So what can we do about it? Well, not much. We can pray, of course. We can be encouraging and supporting and stand by other people when the pressure lets off of us. We can offer up the little trials for other people (which is actually very good practice for when the big trials come).   And occasionally, when we know that the pressure is getting too much for someone, we can shift the balance. We can ask God to let us take on the stress and the impatience and the tiredness of the people who need to be strong, buoyant, and patient for someone else.
     It's scary, though, to do that. You can never quite tell what you're going to get.  You can never tell who you really helped either. But be assured, there is nothing more rewarding then to shift the balance.

     With love, and hoping we can do some good,
               -Bonny

Happy trails

Hey, Bunny here,

So everybody knows by now about our vacation up in the Canadian Rockies. What everybody might not know, is that I, Bunny, had a birthday en route. So Dad, being the Best Dad in the Whole World promised he would try to get me up on a horse sometime that day (Because he knows I'm a horse fanatic). Unfortunately it was a long day of traveling through the foothills of Montana, and by the time we reached the little town that was our stop for the night a massive dust storm was rolling in. We barely had time to get inside the Pizza Hut (which was seriously one of the most modern buildings in town) before visibility was nil.

Several days later, after we had crawled along a mountainside in Glacier National Park, passed through customs into Canada (a truly harrowing experience for Bird and I, the others thought it was easy), and rolled through the glories of Banff, Dad declared we would rest for one day in the town of Hinton. We had nothing planned for the day except a trip to the laundry-mat.

Suddenly Dad sprung a surprise on me. He had located a ranch, Entrance Ranch, about five miles away that gave trail rides lasting from one to five hours. We decided on two hours, as being not too long, but long enough to see some real scenery and have a good long ride. Unfortunately we forgot to tell the other riders, Dashman, Bonny, and Cousin A, that the ride was going to be longer than half an hour. The ride was scheduled for after lunch and at the appointed time we drove off to the ranch.

Now I've been on trail rides before where the guides treat you like dimwits who can hardly tell one end of the horse from the other. You are herded carefully behind chain link fence and told to wait while extremely bored stable hands lead your worn out pony (who by now could walk the trail backwards and blindfolded) to the mounting block. They practically hold your hand as you mount, then hang onto the lead rope as the others mount. When you pick up the reins they stare at you in amazement and say, "How did you know to do that? Have you ridden before?"

This place was not like those places. A quiet, friendly old Canadian cowboy let us walk right into the barn where the horses stood in four large open stalls big enough to hold two horses. He asked us about our riding experience. We explained that Dashman and I had been taking riding lessons for a few years and Cousin A and Bonny had been on a few trail rides before. As we talked a sleek grey barn cat padded out of the tack room and began to weave among us, begging for someone to pet her. I complied and Dad struggled for several minutes to get a good picture of her.

Me and my Appaloosa "Rocky"

Beginning with Bonny the cowboy began pairing us up with horses, placing her with Buttermilk, a stocky palomino mare I was sure had some draft blood in her. He described her as a good walker, but also a little pushy. Dashman was given Alpine, a stately black horse who was tall enough to accommodate Dashman's long legs. Cousin A mounted Cisco, a flashy red chestnut who had led on the trails long enough to be a steady ride. I believe I got the jackpot, though with Rocky, a scrubby little Appaloosa the cowboy told me could be a little poky. As Dad settled the final issues with liability papers with the cowboy I tried to offer Bonny some advice on the correct position to sit in, how to steer and to always, always keep her heels down. Cousin A later told me that she heard some of what I was saying and wished she could have gotten some advice too, as she felt totally clueless.

The trail started out winding slowly through the woods, the guide first on his horse Prince, then Cousin A on Cisco, Bonny and Buttermilk, Dashman and Alpine, and finally Me and Rocky. Now if you've ever been on a trail ride you know that they usually have two guides, one in front and one in back. I considered it an honor that the guide trusted my riding ability to place me in back. The first hour was fairly uneventful as we walked slowly down the trail that had been walked in so many times it was worn down almost a foot below the rest of the ground. Pine trees towered on either side of us and the forest floor was thickly layered with almost neon green moss.

Anyone who has mastered the faster gaits of horseback riding (ie. trotting, cantering...) knows that just walking along at a steady plod can get really old really fast. I was lucky with my 'poky pony'. Sure he would lag behind a little bit, widening the gap between him and Alpine, but only so that he had the opportunity to trot to catch up. If there were two ways around a certain tree or boulder, Rocky would be sure to take the path the others had not. I couldn't help being delighted that the little horse thought just like I did.

Rat flats and some friendly conversation

Ahead of me the guide, Cousin A and Bonny were engaged in a friendly conversation about the scenery, the horses and what we were doing in Canada. As we passed Rat Flats, a sunken lake that had once been home to hundreds of muskrats, the guide told us that we could trot if we wanted to. I spoke up to ask if we could. Trotting is another one of those things the trail rides at home just don't do. After a few more minutes we climbed back into the thick trees and I figured the fun part of the ride was over, just more plodding until we got back to the barn. I was so wrong.

We were in the Canadian Rockies, okay? So this big mountain looms up in front of us. I thought, 'Oh boy! We get to climb the mountain!' I mean the trail we were on led right up the side of the mountain, straight ahead of us! What did our guide do? He turned. Away. Parallel, not up. Grrrr. We plodded on. Suddenly the guide turned again. This time, we went up. WAY UP! I am not kidding, the trail was almost vertical. I was almost laying on Rocky's neck. Not quite, because the logical part of my brain was saying, 'support your weight, lean forward and rise into a two-point position so that your weight flows down through your heels and doesn't sit on his back.' The rest of my brain was going, 'WHEEEEE! I'M GOING UP A MOUNTAIN ON A HORSE!' As we climbed, we passed the trail I had originally wanted to climb. Let's just say this, if the path we were on was slanted like this - / - the other path was slanted like this- | - yeah, I'm not kidding.

So we finally got to the top and leveled out. A nice straight stretch lay before us and so we got to trot again. On top of a mountain. Cool, huh? After about ten minutes, the trail just suddenly disappeared. Into thin air. And believe me, the air up there was pretty thin. It just walked to the edge of a cliff, and stopped. Sky, trees, and heck of a big drop. What did the guide do? He turned sharply to the the side, and began to climb down a steep slope. To the side of the big drop. Whew.

The view from the ridge.

We were told that the worst was over. The rest of the ride was an undulating trail that took us steadily, but not so abruptly, back up the side of the mountain. At one point we broke through the verge of trees and walked along the edge of a cliff overlooking a spreading vista of the towering neighboring mountains thickly populated with lush pines, the coiling grey snake of the highway and between the mountains the aqua blue river shimmering in the sunlight. We left the cliff and begin a series of u-shaped dips. The horses would pause at the top of each while the horse before climbed out, then they plunged into the dip, going at a fast trot to gain enough momentum to get out again. We started to get tired and Dashman and Bonny's saddles kept sliding to one side. The guide showed them how to readjust, then we continued on our last leg of the ride.

At last we came out of the woods and walked slowly but steadily up the last hill to where the barn was waiting. We ducked our heads as the horses each walked inside and into a separate stall. We dismounted and tied the horses to the feed bins where fresh hay was awaiting them. I asked the guide if I could take off Rocky's saddle and bridle, to which he agreed. The others followed my example and the guide showed us where to hang up the tack. Bonny and I grabbed some brushes lying on shelves outside the stalls and began grooming our horses. The guide told us that we could stay and groom as long as we liked, but to leave the horses in their stalls. Dashman paid him and he left us to cuddle with our mounts. Bonny and I wanted to stay for a while, but Cousin A and Dashman, surprised at having spent two hours on horses and beginning to feel it, opt to leave after taking a couple pictures.

Trail Ponies

Reluctant to leave, I hugged my big cuddly, spotted pony one last time, then hugged the other four horses for good measure. At last we all piled into the car and headed back to Hinton. All of us are saddle-sore and weary, all of us have new stories to tell (how Buttermilk kicked Alpine when he got just a little too close, how Cisco kept trying to take the lead and would get too close to the edge of the cliff, Bonny's discussion with the guide about if Rat Flats should really be called 'Musk Lake' instead or just plain 'Canada'.) and all of us are a little happier for the time we spent.

So if any of you readers happen to go to Hinton, and if you stop by the Entrance Ranch for a trail ride, and you just happen to be mounted on a scrubby little appaloosa named Rocky, give him a big hug from me.

Happy Trails!

A Homeschool Family

Here is a great video of a homeschool family that I stumbled across on you tube. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

A Homeschool Family

What a Father Wants to Know

Here is a little poem by a very endearing poet whose talent I stumbled upon when I found a little book by him in a used bookstore.   This one I offer especially in honor of Father's Day.  Any father with even the slightest romantic sentiment will find Edgar A Guest an inspiration and a guide.


You would take my girl away!
What is there that I can say
Save the things all fathers think,
Seldom put in printers ink?
Little care I for your fame,
O the glory you may claim,
Or the fortune you may earn;
These are not my deep concern--
This I really want to know,
Will you always love her so?

It is fine enough to tell
that to-day you're doing well;
I appreciate your skill
and I think someday you will
Climb the ladder of success
To your lasting happiness;
But if all this should be had
and my little girl be sad,
I'd regret my whole life through
Having given her to you.

Will you always love her so?
That is what I want to know.
Will you comfort her and stay
At her side from day to day?
Knowing she must bear your name,
Will you shield her from all shame?
This the burden on my mind,
Will you thoughtful be and kind?
All that matters is to know
That you'll always love her so.

taken from The Passing Throng , by Edgar A. Guest
published by Reilly & Lee co. Chicago U.S.A. 1923

Great Dad in Action

Hello, hello, I'm Bunny, the middle daughter, (so give me a break because I have an older sister and a younger one) but I'm still very blessed.
So, yesterday was Father's Day, and while I could SAY something very touching and sweet about Fathers, I choose to look back a day and SHOW you a good dad at work.
Bird needs a car. There's no two ways around it, it's a fact. The car she has was condemned three years ago as scrap metal and you just never know when it will decide to turn on.
So, the day before Father's Day, Dad comes into the living room, points at me like the figure of doom might point at a chipmunk in his pantry, and he says, "How'd you like to go car shopping?"
"Me!?!" I squeak, like said chipmunk.
"Yup," he says, "Get ready, 'cause we're leaving in ten minutes."
Now don't get me wrong, I love being with Dad, he's a great dad, but really, Bonny is our lucky car buyin' girl. So I figure we might look around a bit, but come home with a car? Not likely.

Scene 1: Car dealership A
Enter two suspicious strangers. They prowl around a small green car with eyes that notice every ding and scratch.
Salesman gulps nervously and loosens his collar. Nerving himself up he walks towards the strangers with his must sell this car smile.
Two strangers turn out to be Dad and Bunny.
"Hi," says Dad, "we saw this car on the internet and since it's in our price and age range we thought we'd take a look."
Dad is such a good bluffer. This is actually his favorite car, the one he is most interested in, and therefore most likely to buy.
"Oh, sure," says salesman, "I'll go get the keys and you can have a look at it."
While the salesman is back in the building telling his co-workers that he was not scared, Dad shows me how to test the shocks. ("Push down hard on the hood and the trunk and if it only bounces once then they're still good.")
Salesman comes back and we take greenie for a whirl. Status report: makes weird noises, interior crumby and breaks are jerky (oddly enough the last one only happens when I am driving. Hmm).
We head off for dealership 2 with a card in our pockets and relief that that one is over.

Scene 2: Dealership B
Enter Dad and Bunny, they park car and begin prowling through quadruple-parked lot.
From the building emerges a smart, self-confident Salesman. He is paid by commission and will sell a car. If it kills him. Or us. Preferably both.
Oddly enough, we walk away from him. This he has not experienced. Little does he know, Dad likes to have a car to talk about before talking cars.
Salesman chases us until Dad finally has mercy and lets him catch up. "Can I help You?" Salesman calls over the car tops.
Dad tells him we are looking for a car that was advertised on the internet. Salesman looks disconcerted. "It might have been sold," he hedges, (the drama intensifies, will he make a sale today?) "Let me check with my manager." He turns and sprints back to the building.
Dad and I casually meander back through the labyrinth of cars towards our own. I can pick up on his mood: if the car isn't here we'll just go to the next place. Dad has one price and one style in mind. Only the best for Bird.
Salesman comes back at a fast trot. "Sorry," he pants as he pulls up beside us, "It was sold yesterday." But has our valiant Salesman given up hope? Never! Squatting beside us is a beautiful car of a different make, perhaps he can yet make a sale!
"Ohh, black interior, leather seats," comments Dad. I know Dad, he's just being nice. Both of us are thinking "that's gonna be hot in the summer".
"It's too flashy," I say, turning the predator's eyes away from Dad. "I don't like silver cars."
"But it has a sun roof," wheedles Salesman thinking he has an easy target.
"IT'S - TOO - FLASHY," I repeat, I can make a point when I want to.
"That one is flashy," Salesman points to a puke-green mustang.
"No," I reply, "this one is flashy, that one is sick."
"What color do you like?" Salesman will not let us leave without a commission
"Sorry," Dad breaks in, "We've got a couple other cars to look at. We might be back if we don't find anything we like. Are you open on Sunday?"
Salesman frumps. "You have to give us one day off."
Having burst his bubble, Dad and I retreat to our car before he can rope us in again.

Scene 3: Dealership C
Dad and I have a lovely drive across town to the third dealership.
Example: Dad, "I thought you'd like to get a mustang."
Me, "Dad, the only mustang I want has four legs and a tail."
Dad, "Ha ha ha!"
This next place had two cars we were going to look at. A nice salesman who seemed to be the boss of several underlings came up to help us and after Dad explained what we were looking for he handed us over to one of his minions, a nice young man I'll call Jay. We walked out the the cars and began to look them over.
One was a dark blue with a sun roof, the other was a grayish tan that shimmered pink. Something about the second one just screamed "Right for Bird" to me.
Dad had shown me where to look for rust spots and I located a little around the wheel-wells, but nothing major. Dad nodded. "It looks in good condition," he said.
"Do you want to take it for a drive?" asked Jay.
It ran well, but the brakes wobbled a little when going at high speeds. Dad asked me to try it to see what I thought. I was thrilled. The car ran smooth and it felt nice, all but the brakes.
"If it will make or break the deal we can fix them for you before you buy," Jay told us.
We decided that this was the best thing to do. The car went into the shop and we signed the papers. Dad asked the financial man how many people read the papers before signing.
"One out of fifty," was the disgusted reply. "Some people won't even let me explain to them what they're signing."
The car was still in the shop so we headed out to lunch at a Wendy's across the road. Even though a steady rain was beginning to fall, Dad asked me if I would drive the car home. I was so excited I almost hugged him. Instead, he fed me a spicy chicken nugget. When I indicated that my mouth was burning he said, "I guess you'll just have to get a frosty to cool down."
"Do you want one?" I asked.
"No," he said, "I'll just snitch some of yours."
Back at the dealership we snitched two lollipops from an obliging candy bowl and browsed the new car models. There was one with mechanical seat controls that I had fun playing around with while Dad fought off bored employees who where desperate for a customer. "You'd think they would remember that I don't need help," he grumbled as one guy walked away from him for a second time.
When the car was finished the Head Honcho found us. "Jay is pulling the car around for you," he said and I couldn't help thinking how nice he was being, until Jay and the car pulled into view. "PULL IT AROUND!" he bellowed out the door, "DON'T MAKE THEM WALK THROUGH THE RAIN!"
"It's alright," Dad tried to say, but HH wasn't listening. I don't think he even realized that he'd spoiled his own image.
Jay started walking in as HH led us out. Halfway between the door and the car we met. "Do you have both sets of keys?" HH broke of his monologue on how much he appreciated our business to growl at Jay.
"I just have the key I used," Jay said, blinking under the heavy downpour.
"Well get the other one for them!" snapped HH, before turning back to us. "Really, it's a great car, I'm so glad you were able to do business with us."
I wanted to point out that we were getting more wet from listening to his monologue than we would have if we'd stayed inside and dashed out to where Jay had parked, but I held my tongue. Poor Jay, obviously his boss didn't like him very much. Poor HH, he's going to lose customers if he keeps treating his employees like dirt.
At last Jay returned with the other key and we began the long drive home. It was a little tricky with rain and traffic, but Dad tried to keep in sight so I wouldn't get lost.
When we got home Bird was still at work, so we called out TK and Bonny to test drive the car over to Bird's work. She was gone already, so we drove back home. A block away we saw her little clunker in the driveway, so we called the house and told Bird to come out. The door opened and she stepped outside. Suddenly, her eyes popped open and her chin dropped. She began to squeal with delight.

Seeing the look on Dad's face, it made me think: maybe Dad's don't need new grills for Father's day. Maybe they just want people to see how much they're loved.

Signing off, Bunny