The Best Camping Trip Ever

We blew a tire and had to change it just a few feet away from traffic. Emily got sick, then sicker, and the neighboring campsite refused to turn off their music even an hour after curfew, so she couldn’t sleep, which made her even sicker. We finally had to break camp at midnight and drive home, which made her even sicker (mountain roads and nausea – not a good combination). Ryan followed suit about 5 miles from home. And when Alan unhitched the trailer at 3:30 a.m., the small wheel on the hitch popped off, causing the hitch to slam to the ground, punching a hole in the asphalt.

On Sunday, as we stumbled through a sleep-deprived version of unpacking, I began calling the weekend the Worst Camping Trip Ever, but Alan pointed out that we should call it the Best Camping Trip Ever. Why? As my father used to say, (craning his neck to the right), “You can look at it this way,” (and then craning his neck to the left) “or you can look at it that way.”

The thing is, it could have been SO much worse. Not that we sit around thinking of worst-possible scenarios; it’s just that it easily could have been worse in many ways.

Alan and I make it a practice trust God with every detail of our lives, and when we find ourselves in crisis, we turn first to Him. And while some may say that we were just lucky the circumstances played themselves out the way they did, or that maybe we just encountered a few coincidences, I believe that God is actively involved in our lives, especially when we ask Him. It would be hypocritical to ask for His help and then dismiss it as serendipity.

For instance, when we blew the tire, we pulled over as far as we could on the shoulder, but it was the tire on the driver’s side, which meant Alan had to get down on his hands and knees just 2-3 feet from the right lane. Miracle Number One was that he had bought a collapsible traffic cone just the day before and stowed it in the trunk.

Miracle Number Two occurred right after I started praying that God would protect him from the traffic – all it would take was a second of inattention on the part of a driver... we’ve all heard the horror stories.

After I prayed, and right about the time Alan started jacking up the car, a traffic jam started just ahead of us. Traffic slowed to a crawl and stayed that way until he finished changing the tire. As soon as he was out of the way, it picked back up again.

Roger and Cathy Dreger were caravaning with us, and since they were ahead, they had to turn around and come back. As a result, they saw the reason for the traffic jam. A 4x4 truck had pulled over to the side of the road with some problem or another, and the girls riding inside it took the opportunity to work on their tans from the bed of the truck. In bikinis. Everyone was slowing down to take a look.

Miracle Number Three happened while Alan was changing the tire. The driver of a sedan wasn’t paying attention and didn’t notice the brake lights ahead of him until the last minute, so he slammed his brakes on and swerved into the shoulder. The miracle is that traffic was stopped just PAST where we were at the time. If it had been ten feet back, the car would have swerved directly into Alan.

And so the camping trip continued, largely uneventful until late Saturday afternoon, when Emily began feeling ill. We waffled about whether it was wiser to pack up and go or whether it would be better for her to sleep through the night first. We chose to stay, not counting on our new camping neighbors, who started their family dinner and karaoke night at 9:30 p.m. At 10:30 p.m., we asked them politely to turn the music down, explaining the situation, but they didn't. By 11 p.m. Emily was getting sicker and we came to the conclusion that we really did need to leave, so Alan packed up the campground in the dark while I sat in the van and tended to the kids. At around 11:45 p.m., the neighbors finally turned down their radio, only to be overshadowed by the campers down the road who turned theirs up. At that point I almost lost it. And then, as I sat there rubbing Emily's feet and listening to the wind blowing through the trees, I suddenly thought of Paul and Silas singing praises to God after being thrown in jail. I thought, if they can do it, I can do it too. So I did. It was an amazing oasis of peace in the middle of a storm of chaos. And for a few minutes, while I was singing softly, the music was turned down. We found out from the Dregers that it was turned back up louder after we left.

Miracle Number Four happened on the drive home, when Ryan got sick – he had been asleep and therefore showed no symptoms of being ill, but the thought suddenly popped into my head that he was going to throw up, so I got the bowl ready. A few minutes later he coughed, so I flipped around in my seat and got the bowl in place just in time. TMI, I know, but if I hadn’t been ready, well... you know.

And the final miracle was when the wheel fell off the trailer. Alan had been pushing on the wheel with his foot to line it up in the right direction just seconds before it fell off. If it had fallen off then, the hitch would have punched a hole in his foot instead of the road. And at 3:30 a.m., who would have been around to help me pull the trailer off his foot?

So, all things considered, it was the best camping trip we ever had. Just like life, it wasn’t entirely comfortable, and it wasn’t what we’d expected, but it was a clear reminder to all of us that God protects us and provides for us in every situation. To quote Laura Story’s song, “Perfect Peace”:

Stay close by My side, and you'll never be alone
Keep your eyes on Me, and you’ll never be in need.
Though I may not calm the storm around you
You can hide in Me.

And besides, during the time between the Blowing Out Of The Tire and the Throwing Up Of The Offspring, we had a really nice time camping with friends, paddling around a lake and enjoying some beautiful scenery.

Just Like Heaven...

Some people say they can't imagine what heaven will be like, but I can. I have a vivid imagination, and therefore a very clear picture of heaven. In heaven, when I want to go to the park, I will make the decision and then just GO. I won't have to tidy the entire house to find the dog's collar. I won't have to clean out the front closet to find her leash, either. I won't have to do three loads of laundry to insure that my children have clean playclothes to wear. I won't have to weed the back yard to find missing shoes, and I won't have to employ the skills I learned in Psychology 101 to calm the angst of the children who are missing the clothes and the shoes. I won't have to run to the store to buy a new hairbrush. I won't have to pack lunch, snacks, drinks, sunscreen or first aid kits. I will just look out the window, appreciate the weather, grab a blanket and go to the park.

I don't know, though, maybe that's retirement I'm seeing. Maybe heaven's even better than that.

More Neighborhood Watching... NOTHING escapes our notice!

So, I've stopped calling the police on people eating McDonalds breakfast sandwiches, but I haven't forgotten my duty as a member of the Neighborhood Watch. Neither has my neighbor, Cathy.

She arrived the other day for our English co-op and asked for the number of the police. She had seen two muscular, shaved-headed young men on bicycles about an hour before, and as she was leaving her house, saw them AGAIN. They were obviously cruising the neighborhood looking for something and not just out for a quiet Thursday morning bike ride.

I proudly showed her the number displayed prominently on my fridge (once you moved a couple of hand-drawn pictures of Spiderman and Obi Wan Kenobi) and handed her the phone. After she did her civic duty, we agreed that I would keep an eye out for bicyclists while I was teaching my part of the English class, since I was in the front room with a good view of the street.

I didn't actually see them, although we had a brief moment of excitement when I did spot a bicycle. It turned out to be an overweight 11-year-old boy who was having trouble steering, but he had a helmet on, so I let it go. For the remainder of the class, my students dissolved into laughter every time he wobbled past, but I took the opportunity to instruct them on the importance of a Neighborhood Watch program and explained that this was just a good reminder that we should all keep an eye out. I'm sure they appreciated the tip.

After everyone had gone home, my almost-15 year old son asked me what exactly I had been looking for. I described to him the suspicious cyclists as he looked at me with increasing surprise.

"Do you know who those men were?" he asked incredulously.

"No!" I exclaimed breathlessly. "Do you know something about them?"

"Uh, yeah," he sighed. "Those are the two undercover cops the City just assigned to our neighborhood. Dad heard about it at that Neighborhood Watch meeting, remember?"

Okay, so we called the police on themselves. They must be happy that we're doing such a good job watching.

Community Crime Watch

Alan attended our neighborhood watch meeting a couple of weeks ago and came home with all kinds of accounts of good neighbors reporting suspicious activity, resulting in the capture of a number of assorted burglars, robbers and other ne'er-do-wells. The officer in charge of our district encouraged everyone to report any activity that seemed suspicious and reassured them not to think anything was too small.

Armed with this knowledge and confident that as a homeschooling Mom, I stand a good chance of noticing suspicious persons, seeing as how I stare out the window a lot while dictating spelling words, I began my own personal neighborhood watch. The very next morning I noticed a suspicious young man parked across the street, sitting in his car. After about five minutes, I was sure he was up to no good. He was just sitting there eating something, and I had never seen him before. I waited another five minutes while he steadily munched away, took a deep breath and called the appropriate number, feeling like a cross between a journalist finding a hot scoop and Supermom, who was saving the day and making the neighborhood Safe For Children Everywhere.

The lady who answered the phone seemed a little less taken with the information than I was, and asked me if it was possible that the man was simply eating his breakfast. Oh, but I was sure, I said, because I'd never seen him here, and I know there was a gang of men burglarizing homes in our neighborhood that did exactly that - one sat in the car while the others knocked on doors. Was there anyone knocking on my door? Well, no, but maybe they just hadn't gotten to me yet. She sighed and said she would send someone out.

A few minutes later the man reclined his seat and apparently took a nap. I almost called her back, because, well, people don't just Take Naps for no reason, now, do they?

After another 20 minutes, I watched breathlessly as the man emerged, opened the back door of his car..... and took out a backpack. He adjusted his glasses, slung the backpack on his back and walked down the street... in the direction of El Camino College. A quick check at the clock confirmed that he would probably arrive there just in time for a 10 a.m. class.

Oh, but if he HAD been up to something, boy howdy, I woulda caught him!

Making Brownies

Here is my own recipe, based upon how we make brownies here at "Smitches."


Ingredients:
One box of brownie mix
1/2 cup of oil
1 dozen eggs plus 2 more
lowfat granola
1/2 cup skim milk
grapefruit juice

Have 2nd oldest child take the brownie mix out of the cupboard at 8 p.m. one evening and parade it around the house, causing everyone to whine when you inform them that you are not going to bake them because it would be too late to feed small children brownies by the time they would be done.

Repeat the process the next night, having a small child rip the box open. Leave it on the counter for two days for maximum whine-effect.

Pick an afternoon when everyone is BOOOOORRRRREEEEEDDDDDD (translation: Mom won't let us watch Star Wars or play Guitar Hero), open the inner wrapper of the brownie mix and dump contents into mixer bowl. Tell smallest child they are not brownies, they are just a special kind of bread. Insist that you simply stored the bread mix in the handy brownie box you found open on the counter and inform him that you have no idea what happened to the real brownie mix. Praise him for using deductive reasoning, including sense of sight, smell and taste, to figure out that you are pulling his leg.

Have smallest child take the dozen eggs out of the fridge, set them on the edge of the counter so that they are hanging half off and open the lid. Eggs will crash spectacularly to the floor, cracking simultaneously and splattering yolk over a good 2-3 square ft. of tile. Pick out shells and call dog.

Have 3rd oldest child take two more eggs out of the fridge and crack them into the mixing bowl. Help child painstakingly remove pieces of shell from brownie mix. Try not to look at the state of said child's hands and suggest belatedly that she should wash them.

Pour oil into bowl and turn on mixer, grabbing child's hair at the last second so it doesn't get caught in the mixer blade. Turn off mixer and scrape sides (having learned from the last batch of brownies not to attempt scraping while the mixer is running). Restart mixer. Turn off mixer, remove bowl and stir the dang thing yourself with a wooden spoon since the mixer doesn't seem to be getting the dry stuff at the bottom of the bowl.

Pour mix into a prepared pan and bake in oven at 350 for 26 minutes. Ask yourself repeatedly during the 26 minutes why you thought today was a good day to have the oven on for half an hour, considering the temperature is in the 80s and humidity is at 92%.

When timer goes off, pull brownies out of oven and set them on top of stove to cool. Use one hand per small child to stop them from bouncing up and down and explain that A) the brownies are too hot to eat and B) you want to save them for consumption during tonight's showing of Star Wars. Prevent 3rd oldest child from poking holes in the brownies with a fork to "help them cool down." Keep a straight face while explaining to youngest child that using a blowdryer on the brownies really won't help much with the cooling process. Repeat reason B) six or seven times until said children have complete understanding of the fact that the brownies will not be eaten until after dinner. Praise 3rd oldest child for figuring out that it is mathematically possible to cut five pieces now and still have six left for later and reassure her that despite her stroke of genius, it just isn't going to happen.

After dinner, cut brownies and then remember that you have a meeting to go to and have to leave that instant. Leave serving of brownies to 2nd oldest child. Inform ENTIRE family that the lid must be replaced tightly on the pan so that when you return from your meeting, you can have a non-stale brownie. Explain to oldest child on the way out the door that despite his stature, he will be permitted to eat only the same number of brownies as each other person in the family. Use Mother Glare to communicate the consequences that will ensue if he fails to follow these instructions.

Return home from meeting to find lid on brownie pan partially unsealed. Decide in best sour grapes fashion that you don't need the calories anyway and retire to bed, feeling self-righteous.

Upon awakening in the morning, eat two brownies with coffee before anyone else awakens, carefully wiping up all crumbs and brushing teeth to remove evidence. When rest of family awakens, sanctimoniously eat lowfat granola with skim milk and a side of grapefruit juice.

Follow-Up on the Mission

We left for the Mission at 4:30, me praying all the way that the song wouldn't change again! The first time that I really sang it from start to finish, revisions and all, was when I performed it at 7 p.m. It came off even better than I had hoped and I was able to sing it as if I'd been doing it for years. Definitely not the recommended procedure for performing, but the Holy Spirit is able to accomplish the impossible! Cathy Dreger and Cynde Knutson came with us this time, and they said the women really responded to it. Each of them spoke briefly during the service, and I could see the women being visibly moved by what they said also.

So, now all I have to do is figure out what I'm singing at the concert this coming Friday night at Hidden Door Cafe. And find time to rehearse with Alan. Oh yes, and take the children to soccer practice, conveniently scheduled, between the four of them, for every stinking day of the week except Friday, when two of them have a game (which they will be missing due to my concert. After only two weeks, I'm already a failure as a soccer Mom.... sigh).

At least we will be able to make the Saturday soccer game for the other two, which is scheduled for 8:15 a.m. the day after the concert. At least, I believe I will be physically there. I'm not sure that my brain will be functioning, but if worst comes to worst, I'll just cheer for the Blue Team, since that's the color of their uniforms. If I try getting any more specific than that, I may end up cheering on the name of the other team, or even worse, calling one of my kids by the dog's name.

3:25

Just revised the 3rd verse.

Really, though, it's done now, right?