Well, it’s been a couple of weeks since we put the electric dog fence in. We are now able to leave our Lab, Buck, out all the time without fear that he will leave the yard. The only thing is; he’s suddenly decided that living in the garage is good enough for him. He rarely has the desire to get up off the garage floor to go out into the yard, let alone take off for town with the nearest jogger. It’s kind of frustrating that he made this change in behavior AFTER we spent the money on the electric dog fence, but there you have it.

On top of that, he doesn’t seem to have it in him much to protect the garden from the deer which, if you recall, was the whole reason we put the dog fence up in the first place: so that Buck could stay out all night long and protect the garden from all those trespassing deer. Just the other night, the deer ate all of our sunflowers and the coons climbed up a shepherd’s hook to get to some bird feed and bent it completely in half. And where was Buck during all of this, you ask? Who knows? Probably curled up on the front porch, snoozing.

That he is most likely partially deaf probably doesn’t help matters much. At first we thought he was just being stubborn when he ignored our commands. But now, well, the evidence is pointing more and more to the deaf thing.

Buck’s a good dog, don’t get me wrong. He’s 100 pounds of simply lovable Labrador Retriever. He’s a beautiful specimen of his breed as well, with a boxy head and beautiful, soulful eyes. I enjoy having him underfoot all the time. He’s a good companion for all of us when we’re outside working and playing.

But here’s the thing about dogs: You can never really tell what they’re going to do next. Just when you think you’ve got them figured out, they surprise you.

Like last night, for instance. It was quite a shock to me when I glanced out our front living room window and saw Buck doing unmentionable things to his camo-print doggy bed in our front yard. Repeatedly. For all the neighbors to see. I called Scott, who was working in our front-yard garden, to point out his (HIS) dog’s behavior. He answered, rather dejectedly, “I see him…”

“What the heck is your dog doing to his dog bed?” I asked as Buck continued to woo his new “girlfriend”, ah, rather aggressively in our front yard.

“I don’t know,” Scott answered, sounding somewhat defeated. I mean, you have to understand. This dog is supposed to be my husband’s rough and tough companion. His hunting dog/best friend. And yet… suddenly the camo doggy bed Scott had picked out so lovingly for his best friend was being, well, taken improper advantage of, shall we say, and right in our front yard, no less, for ALL the neighbors to see. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

And, also, kind of funny. If you like that kind of humor, that is. (And, I do.)

Now that Buck has apparently set his interests on other things of a more romantic nature, it appears that Scott and I will be fighting the deer- and coons- alone.

And I, for one, will not be touching that doggy bed of his again.

I was short tempered and so was Luke. Maybe the heat’s getting to us. Or the close quarters with no real shower or electricity – and the squat toilet. (Nope, no seat. When we visited BRAC yesterday, I stopped in to use the washroom and the biggest grin came across my face when I spotted the white porcelain!)

Or maybe it’s just sharing such a confined space with such a large family, and a small room with a fifteen year old. No place to store or organize stuff. It feels just a little like Survivor except the food’s pretty good and nobody is getting kicked out. Not yet anyway.

It didn’t help matters when I discovered Adonai doesn’t actually have a budget.

They’re beyond shoestring. And they really are amazing – they house, feed, clothe, and give medical care to about 30 orphans. Then they help about 130 more orphans stay in the homes of grannies and more distant relatives who couldn’t afford to take them in unless Adonai helped feed and clothe them. Plus plus plus… all for about about $130,000 per year.

But except for some basic recordkeeping, which they don’t look at again, their financial systems are nonexistent. So on Thursday, we’re on our way to Kampala to buy Quickbooks. Hopefully, they’ll be on the system before Luke and I leave in two weeks. 

The main thing I’ve been spending my time on here is the preparation of a document that Adonai can use as a plan and a marketing tool for donors. It begins with their history:

I. The Adonai Child Development Center was founded in 2005 by Pastor Aloysious Luswata and his wife Abby. Pastor Luswata heads the Namugoga Victors Church, an evangelical church in Namugoga, a village of about 1,000 people in Wakiso District Uganda. The church was founded in 1992 with few resources but the determination of its Pastor and his passion for service to God and people. The Congregation today consists of about 100 families.
II.
III. From the beginning, the spiritual needs of the community were overwhelmed by the poverty of its people. Children were suffering and the Church needed to do something.

Pastor and Abby started small, taking in children into their own home who would otherwise be on the street. And though the Church had little – its only structure, a temporary one of mud and thatch – it lent support to the opening of a small community school in 1997. They started with just 30 children. Unfortunately, students’ families could not afford even modest school fees, and the Church could not cover the teachers salaries on its own. After three years of struggle, the School closed in 2000.
I.
II. Pastor and Abby would not be deterred. In 2004 Abby, a trained teacher, left her government position to work full time with her husband. In 2005, they tried again with a new school. This time they had the advantage of experience. The Church was on stronger footing, the temporary structure, which had collapsed during a service in 2000, was replaced with a permanent one. The earlier attempt had also left them with a humble but usable structure in which to begin teaching. Starting with more students also meant that there were more that could afford school fees.
III.
IV. The school started with 105 students in pre-school through P3. They have grown to more than 350 students in all levels up to P6. They will create a P7 class next year. Although about 40% of its students can afford the school fees of UGS 90,000 (approximately $US 45) per year, the school receives additional support from the church and a few private donors. In 2007, the aid organization Fields of Life brought a volunteer team in to construct a block of 7 classrooms and two offices that now houses the school.
V.
VI. Pastor Luswata has a vision that every child in Uganda be cared for within the loving arms of a a true family. The devastation of families brought on by the AIDS pandemic has been dramatically compounded by the two decade long guerrilla war in Northern and Eastern Uganda. Of the estimated 30 million AIDS orphans in Africa, some 1.7 of those are in Uganda whose total population about 27 million.
VII.
VIII. In 2006 a donor in the UK donated UGS 50 m (about $24,000 US) for the purchase of a 1.8 acre plot of land to build a home for orphans who could not be accommodated with relatives and families in the village. In addition, three local benefactors provided a UGS10 m interest free loan, the final amount to secure the land the Center now occupies. In 2007, with local support from the community, a substantial discount from the builder and a small community development grant, the current home was built with a capacity of 20 children.

In 2008, understanding the importance of the community’s economic well being to the future of its children, Adonai began to experiment with programs to develop opportunities for Namugoga families. Programs offering livestock to families for their own health and to generate cash have already had an impact on some families. In the absence of any other resource, the ACDC has become the most important driver of community and economic development.

The remainder of this document provides information to donors and friends interested in supporting this beacon of community and economic development in Namugoga Village in Wakiso District, central Uganda.

At least the day ended on a well. There was a birthday celebration for Felix, one of the teachers at the school, and for Noble Grace, Aloysious’ and Abby’s one year old. We had cake and sang Happy Birthday just like at home. Abby says they have candles too when they’re available. Then we played charades! But Luke and I were completely out to lunch because the things were so culturally based – like… show the preparation of Jackfruit for eating. Whatever that is. But it was fun to see the family loosen up around us.

By the way, Felix, the teacher with the birthday – 23 – is a great success story. He was an orphan that Aloysious and Abby took in several years ago. He’s a very engaging young man, industrious and smart and now in University. He’s been very friendly to us. Unbelievably, we don’t have electricity but Felix and I are now friends on Facebook. Go figure.

Bruce out.

We went shopping at Sam’s Club yesterday and came home feeling quite heavy- and, ironically, much lighter at the same time. That’s what happens when you go to Sam’s, isn’t it? Everything’s super-sized and you know each item in your cart is going to cost you at least five bucks, usually more, and once you hit the check-out counter- WHAM! You’re much, much lighter… by many, many dollars.

I woke up this morning with the number the cashier gave me running through my head. I’m not kidding. It was the first thought I had upon waking. I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m one of those people who would rather spend a little at a time over an extended period rather than a big chunk all at once- even if the big chunk is actually smaller than the sum total of all the little amounts extended over time. It’s psychological, I know. But, there you have it. I will knowingly buy the smaller bottle of clothes detergent for $5 even though I know that if I buy the $9 mega-sized bottle, I’m getting more for my money over the long haul. Because it’s easier to let go of five bucks than nine. And yet… I’m actually losing money. Something I really, really hate to do.

So we decided to make a trip to Sam’s. Because when you go to Sam’s, you already know you’re going to be throwing down some cold, hard cash. You’re already prepared to purchase the big, over-sized versions of what you normally buy. So, you’re prepared for what’s in store… supposedly. Only you’re not. Not really. I mean, who likes to spend all that money in one single, solitary day? Not me. And it’s always a shock. Every – single – time.

But, we did it anyway, knowing we were saving money in the long run. I now have ten cans of tuna in case anyone’s in the mood for a tuna sandwich. Although I didn’t buy the ten gallon barrel of mayonnaise that was up there. That would have helped, probably, with my tuna sandwiches. But the sight of all that mayonnaise made me cringe. It would spoil before we could use it all anyway, right?

And as for toilet paper, well, let’s just say if you need to go to the bathroom when you’re over at my house visiting, you’ve come to the right place. I’m prepared. Very prepared.

And how about baking soda? Need any baking soda for cleaning your house? I’ve got plenty- 12 pounds to be exact.

From the three pound box of Cheez-Its to the ten 200-count boxes of two-ply Kleenex, I’m prepared.

Funny thing is, once we got home, we didn’t have anything to eat for supper. Isn’t that how it always is?

So I had a slice of German chocolate cake and a glass of milk. And it made me feel better. A little. Chocolate does that for me. Maybe why that’s why I bought that six pound bag of chocolate chips.

So today, I’m trying to get over my shopping trip. Everything’s put away now, where I can’t see it and be reminded of it. Other than those ten cans of tuna and three pounds of Cheez-It crackers. But that’s okay because I’ve already decided I’m going to eat tuna and Cheez-Its morning, noon and night until I get my money back.

It’s going to be a long summer.

You’ve heard about the Cubbie Curse, haven’t you? The one that says that if a baseball team has too many former Cubs players on its roster, it’s doomed? Well, I don’t know about curses, and I don’t know how many former Cubs it takes to negatively impact a team, but I’m pretty sure that the Cardinals’ acquisition of ex-Cub Mark DeRosa is going to be a good thing, not a bad thing for St. Louis.

The Cardinals picked up DeRosa in a trade with the Cleveland Indians this past weekend. St. Louis sent reliever Chris Perez and a player to be named later to get the versatile DeRosa (he can play second, third, short and left field), who went over to the Indians this past winter but became expendable because of the Tribe’s poor showing in the standings this year.

DeRosa is going to help the Cardinals a lot. Because of third baseman Troy Glaus’s shoulder injury and his uncertain return, the Cardinals have been struggling defensively on the infield and unable to get their offense going. DeRosa should be valuable on both counts. He will be able to take over third base, anchoring the left side of the infield, and, with a .270 batting average, 13 home runs and 50 RBIs, provide some much-needed punch to the lineup and some protection for Albert Pujols.

DeRosa was a key player for the Cubs in 2007 and 2008, and his departure may be part of the reason why the Cubs haven’t performed as well as they might this year. I hope he is one of those impact trades that sparks the Cardinals in the second half of the year.

DeRosa had good numbers for the last-place Indians. Coming to the Cardinals, who have been in first place or close to it all year, he should play inspired baseball. The chance to appear in the post-season has a way of motivating players.

Though he will be a free agent after this year, DeRosa was a much-need acquisition. The trade proves that Cardinals’ management is serious about winning, and that has to send an important message to Pujols, who will be deciding his future with the team in the not-to-distant future.

— — —

Speaking of which, is there a better player in the National League than Pujols? I don’t think so.

Pujols owns a couple of Most Valuable Player awards and is having the kind of season that could earn him a third one this year.

As of Monday, Pujols was batting .328 – eighth best in the league. He had 28 home runs – tops in the league. And he owned 74 runs batted in – again, best in the league.

So does Pujols have a chance at that most elusive of achievements – a Triple Crown?

It would be a tough slog, yes, but the Cardinals slugger is the only player in the league capable of doing it.

As noted, Pujols already leads in two categories of the Crown. In terms of average, he is just 14 points off the top spot – ground that he could easily make up with half the season remaining.

It’s hard to believe, but it’s been more than 40 years since any player has won the Triple Crown, Boston’s Carl Yastrzemski being the last in 1967 when he batted .326, hit 44 home runs and had 121 RBIs. Four decades! Maybe that span of time is even more mind-boggling because before Yaz’s Crown, Baltimore’s Frank Robinson’s .316, 49 HR and 122 RBI numbers were good enough for a Triple Crown just one season earlier in 1966. Perhaps we grew spoiled. And Mickey Mantle’s “Trip” happened just 10 years earlier than that.

In the National League, there hasn’t been a Triple Crown since the Cardinals’ Joe Medwick hit.374 with 31 home runs and 154 RBIs in 1937. So, in the senior circuit, it’s been more than seven decades since a player led the league in all three categories.

I think that one of the reasons for the dearth of Triple Crown winners in baseball has been the emphasis on power. Home run hitters get facetime on ESPN and the big contracts. Contact hitters are underappreciated in today’s game. Consequently, there are few players who have the tools and talent to do it all.

Except Pujols.

A gem of consistency, Pujols has proven year after year that he can hit the ball out of the park and hit for average. No one else comes close to him.

I don’t know if Pujols will win the Triple Crown this season. In this era, someone always seems willing to strike out 200 times a season in order to get 45 or 50 home runs, and that hurts his chances. All-around excellence no longer seems to be valued in baseball.

But if anyone can do it, I have no doubt, it is Albert Pujols.

Weight management isn’t about depriving yourself. It’s about giving you the gift of good health. Building and maintaining healthy eating and exercise habits are the most important parts of weight management. Managing your weight can give you better health, more energy and a great sense of accomplishment. With information, help and a can-do spirit, you can succeed in managing your weight. The following key points may be beneficial in helping you succeed in your weight loss efforts:

Focus on health – not body shape – as you manage your weight.
Weight management is a long-term effort.
Even a modest weight loss can bring important benefits.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Breakfast literally means to “break the fast” and that is exactly what we should do when you wake up in the morning. Skipping breakfast can leave you feeling tired, restless or irritable. Mood and energy can drop by mid-morning if you don’t eat breakfast. Your body needs to refuel after going without food for 8-12 hours.

Eating breakfast can also help keep your weight in check. Breakfast starts the body’s metabolism (the process of converting food to energy). When metabolism gets moving, the body starts burning calories. People who don’t eat breakfast often consume more calories throughout the day than those who start the day with breakfast. Someone who skips breakfast is more likely to get famished before lunch and snack on high calorie foods or overeat at lunch.

Jennifer Hills, MS, RD, LDN

Good day.

Alysious and I had an appointment with the largest nongovernmental organization in Uganda today, in Kampala. BRAC does community development and micro finance.

When you go on the Kiva website and make a loan to someone in the third world, there’s actually an organization on the other end putting up that information. That’s BRAC, at least in Uganda and Bangladesh. They go into a community and help organize the poorest half into groups that can support each other through credit or group purchasing. Sounds like good work. Luke found them doing some web research on organizations that might help the Centre.

Although the Adonai Child Development Centre’s main concern is the orphanage and school they run, they have lately tried supporting economic development of families in the village. For example, a la Heifer International, they gave out piglets last year to families with the understanding that they would pay it forward with the first born.

We got some great advice. We also got a lead on their program which could bring them into the village and allow Alysious to focus on the children instead of areas where he doesn’t have expertise.

From there, based on the BRAC director’s advice, we dropped in unannounced on the Oxfam UK office. The country director spared us some time and provided some more advice. We learned Adonai is really too small to appeal to larger organizations like Oxfam. Plus, they are more focused on the war-torn areas like the north of the country. But the church organizations may offer some potential support.

From there we went on to a couple other semi-governmental agencies that work with cooperatives and micro finance. We started with one appointment but it turned into a full day of learning.

On the way home we stopped in to do some food shopping at the Natete Market. The photos speak for themselves. Very cool place. More about the food here later.

But the highlight of the day came at the beginning. I joined the preschool for part of their morning routine. I even participated in a game or two. It’s impossible to leave that place not feeling good. The kids are beautiful and just so joyful.

I was completely charmed by a preschool teacher named Susan. Susan is all of 20. The kids just adored her. Alysious says she’s one of their best. They hope she goes on to further education herself – but it always comes down to finding the money for it.

You hear that a lot around here. I guess it’s not so different from home – except they have SO little here. (Which is what makes the joy of the kids actually hurt just a little bit.)

Out for now.

Sunday. Church today. Luke and I attended a service deep in the village – off the tough, hard dirt road, over a few paths on the back of the scooter.

The building, if you can call it that, is a structure of vertical round wood poles, topped by two pieces of tin for a roof, with a slit down the middle. It was about 15 by 40 feet. Foot wide boards, rough hewn, of varying lengths hung on the pole as walls. Dirt for floor. But all that didn’t stop many people from turning out in their best, well pressed clothes. Especially the women.

What folks lack in infrastructure, they certainly make up for enthusiasm. The service began with testimonials. I assume they were testimonials because it was in Luganda and I didn’t actually know was what said. People stood up from their wood pews and spoke for a minute or two. Then there was what seemed to me to be a lot of praising. (Alysious just confirmed – testimonials about the presence of Christ in their lives.)

We were seated in the front of the church, along the side in the place of honor. Early in the service, the Pastor welcomed us with some very kind words. When he asked if we wished to say anything, I hesitated a moment.

Coincidentally, the sermon that day was about Abraham and his trip to Canaan. So, after thanking them for their kind welcome, I let people know I was a son of Abraham, not a Christian. (I realized afterward that people may not have gotten that I was Jewish.) I went on to bring greetings and offers of solidarity from my Christian friends back home in Mattoon though – hoping you wouldn’t mind. People seemed pleased.

The highlight of the day was definitely the choir. Okay, not being a church goer, I don’t know what it’s normally like. But this was fairly rockin – not quite gospel, not quite blues. Lots of harmony. And lots of dancing. Three very cute little four or five year old girls stood next to me the whole time, holding my hand, just dancing and laughing. Very fun.

They said it would be okay if I took pictures. So here are a few…

Out for now.

It’s painful to watch.
Watching the Cubs for the last 50 years has seldom been rewarding but watching this year’s team is about as much fun as jogging uphill or waiting in traffic on the clogged freeway.
The 2008 Cubs won 97 games and had eight players selected to the National League All-Star team.
Cub fans, who would you pick to be the Cubs’ lone representative (I can’t imagine they will have more than the required one All-Star) in this year’s game, now that the Cubs record is at 34-34?
A year ago, the Cubs sent position players Alfonso Soriano, Kosuke Fukudome, Geovany Soto, Aramis Ramirez and pitchers Ryan Dempster, Carlos Zambrano, Carlos Marmol and Kerry Wood to the mid-season classic.
Fukodome’s glitter had worn off even before the 2008 All-Star Game and he has yet to recover.
Soriano still is among the leading vote-getters this year but has hit just two home runs since May 17. The Cubs’ $18 million a year free agent signee was batting .227 with 14 homers and 30 RBI prior to Thursday’s game.
In fact, GM Jim Hendry’s three big free agent outfield signings — Soriano prior to 2007, Fukudome prior to 2008 and Milton Bradley prior to this season — all are hitting like they belong at Triple A Iowa.
Fukudome was batting .259 with 5 homers and 22 RBI while Bradley was at .241 with 5 homers and 16 ribbies prior to Thursday’s contest.
But those three are just part of the Cubs’ offensive problems. After Wednesday’s 5-3 loss in which they stranded 13 runners and were 1-for-15 with runners in scoring position they stood 13th out of the 16 NL teams in batting with a .244 average. In runs, they are 13th of 16; in doubles, 14th of 16, 12th in stolen bases and last in triples.
Blah.
Lots of “experts” keep saying the Cubs’ talent will rise to the top and they will still win the NL Central. We’ll see.
I think some players need “career years” in order for a team to win.
No Cub is having a career year.
Aramis Ramirez has been out with an injury since May 8. The Cubs were 16-13 at the time. Depending on how soon Ramirez can return to quality playing shape — maybe by the first of August — he could help over the last two months.
Still, who is the Cubs’ All-Star representative?
Derrek Lee finally is hitting. Prior to Thursday, he was at .294 with 11 HR and 37 RBI. That’s decent but will he get a roster spot when NL first basemen Albert Pujols of the Cardinals and Adrian Gozalez of the Padres are sure things? And what about the Phillies’ Ryan Howard and the Brewers’ Prince Fielder?
Maybe, just maybe, it will be Zambrano again.

We were standing in the check-out aisle at Wal-Mart, waiting our turn. Taylor was searching through the shelves like she always does for something of interest. Usually, she finds a container of silly putty or some sort of squishy ball that sparks her interest- besides the large assortment of candy and gum they keep at kids’ eye level, that is. But, this day, she found something different. As I placed my items onto the counter, I glanced over at my eight-year-old (almost-to-be-nine-soon) daughter and found that she had her nose in a teen magazine of some sort, and she was totally and completely engrossed. And then she walked over to me and laid the magazine down next to the carrot cake we were buying for my step-dad for Father’s Day. And she smiled. You know the one: the “can I please have this” smile.

“Why do you want that magazine, Livvy? It’s a magazine for older girls, isn’t it?” I asked.

“No, I know those girls on the front and look, here, inside… I know her… and her, too. They’re on the shows I watch. Can I have it, please, Mama?” Again with the smile.

“Livvy, I just don’t think you’re old enough,” I continued. I flipped through the magazine and began to wonder how old I was when I started being interested in these kinds of magazines. Twelve? Thirteen? I decided to postpone the decision for the time being.

“Not today. Maybe next time. Let’s think about it first.” And I handed her the magazine to put back on the rack.

I suppose this wasn’t the first clue I’d picked up on that my little girl was growing up. It was one of many, really. Including when she’d come up to me in the kitchen last week for a hug and I noticed, really noticed, for the first time that her head came up to my chest- and nearly to my chin. When had that happened? I felt, suddenly, quite short. By now I was used to both my sons being taller than me, but my little daughter? No. That couldn’t happen. Then what would I be in the family? The token short person? I might have to start wearing high heels again…

One day last week, we each got ready to go to the mall to do some Father’s Day shopping and when she came out of the bathroom, she was wearing a little eye shadow and had some glitter dusted all over her face. She batted her eyes at me to be sure I’d notice and smiled fetchingly. She didn’t have to do either, though, since, as a mom, I notice everything about my kids. Her eye shadow was applied a little heavy and haphazardly, but I fixed that with a little smudging of my finger tips along each eye lid. She never even guessed I’d just swiped most of it off. Which was good. And you can bet I didn’t tell her. Some things are better left unsaid.

And I’ve written about how Taylor often-times doesn’t want me to hold her hand out in public- and how my kisses often land on her cheek rather than being returned like they used to be. But teen mags and growth spurts? I’m not sure I’m ready for all that.

My dad came over for supper for Father’s Day. After dinner, Taylor sat down and played her entire play list of piano music for him. She wasn’t nervous in the least to be performing for all of us. And when she was done, she began singing “Amazing Grace” and other songs in her clear, sweet, pure little voice. I’d have never had the nerve to do that when I was her age, self-conscious as I was. I was proud of her, though, for being so unabashed and willing to share her talents with us all. Had I been more like her, who knows what I’d have accomplished. Following that line of thinking, who knows what she will accomplish?

We went back to the store on Tuesday for groceries. I watched to see if she would pick up one of the teen magazines, again. And I wondered what I would do if she did. I’d probably go ahead and buy it for her, I thought.

But she didn’t even pick one up. She was content to hang off the cart and watch for which sack her Lunchable would be going into.

I was relieved. We’d put off another milestone for this week.

But next week? Who knows…

Last week, I joined the millions of people with profiles on Facebook. I finally joined at the urging of several friends and family members who already had accounts there.

I’ve had a My Space account for a few years. It started as a way to communicate with my nephew who was stationed in South Korea for a year with the U.S. Army. Then my son created an account, and it became a way to keep tabs on him and his friends (I’m not ashamed to admit it!).

I’ve enjoyed keeping in touch with friends and family through My Space, viewing people’s photos and hearing what songs they’ve uploaded to their accounts. It became another way for me to get to know people better. But even after three years, I have only a couple dozen “friends” on My Space.

Within one week of being on Facebook, however, I already have twice as many “friends” as my My Space account. Why? It’s not that I suddenly became more popular. It’s because more people (especially more people my age) seem to use Facebook rather than My Space.

Already I’ve connected with nieces, cousins, co-workers and classmates who I haven’t heard from since graduation more than 20 years ago. I also have found a group of former co-workers at the college newspaper where I was employed in the late ’80s — the Daily Egyptian at Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. It’s amazing to “talk” to these people to find out what’s going on in their lives now.

I use the term “talk” loosely, however. Yes, Facebook has given me a way to contact people that I may otherwise not have been able to find. But typing messages back and forth (even with an instant chat) just isn’t the same as seeing someone in person, or at least talking to them on the phone. A lot of personality and emotion is lost when communicating via keyboard.

The same goes for test messaging. Yes, I text, too, although rarely. It has its advantages — such as leaving my son a reminder or a quick note (much like our parents used to leave us a note on the refrigerator or on the kitchen counter). But kids today who ONLY text and almost never speak on their phones are really missing out on a real conversation.

Texting can be especially useful for teens who want to hook up romantically. Sure, it’s a lot easier for a guy to approach a girl via texting rather than in person, to start up a conversation and try to get to know her a little better. But sooner or later the two are going to have to actually be with each other, at the same place at the same time, before they know if sparks fly between them, right? Does texting first make this encounter easier? I suppose it does. But how much can you really get to know another person without actually seeing and speaking to them?

When e-mail became popular, with it’s shortcuts and abbreviations, parents and teachers lamented over the negative effect e-mailing had on students’ writing skills. Texting has a similar effect — especially on spelling skills, since kids seem to think it’s cool to spell words incorrectly on purpose. ?

Now I wonder, will this new media also affect our kids’ abilities to communicate and hold a conversation, especially with people they’ve just met?

Growing a garden is something Scott and I look forward to every summer. This year, however, it’s just been one problem after another. Our first problem began with tomato plants that developed some kind of disease before we could even get them put into the ground. Our second problem began when the rains came unceasingly, preventing us from getting our garden tilled so that we could plant anything at all. Our third problem occurred after we finally did succeed in getting our garden planted and its name was: DEER.

Oh, yes. Our beloved deer. How I love to see them along the edges of our woods, snacking on weeds and such. Sometimes, they even run through our neighbors’ yards on their way to someplace else. Which was always fine because they were going someplace else… But then one day, soon after the tender, green leaves began to spring up from our garden, our beloved deer began visiting us. And suddenly, they weren’t so beloved anymore.

Scott and I read up on what to do. I searched online. Scott asked every fellow-gardener he came across what tactics they used. The consensus seemed to be that sometimes things worked and sometimes they didn’t. Mostly, though, they didn’t.

One night Scott decided to put a radio out by the garden and leave it playing all night long. We couldn’t turn it up very loud, though, because of the neighbors- and ourselves, too. It worked for a couple of nights and then… it didn’t. The deer, apparently, became rather fond of country music. Who doesn’t like a little dinner music, after all?

The next thing we tried was a mixture of milk, water, eggs, liquid dish detergent and some very hot chili sauce. The completely unappetizing concoction was sprayed onto the plants and around the garden, with much success. Then it rained. And, we were back to square one.

The only option we could think of that we knew would work was one that would take a lot of time, money, and effort. Keeping a dog out in the yard would keep the deer away. We knew because we’d used this tactic before, with our female dog who preferred, indeed enjoyed, staying home in the yard. And took her job as protector of our garden quite seriously. Either that or she just wanted to play with the deer. Whatever. It worked. They stayed away.

But we lost Mocha earlier this year and now we are down to one out-door dog who is your typical male wanderer. He’s a good-natured dog and happy-go-lucky; always up for a little jog or walk along the roads or through the woods with- or without- our companionship. And therein lays the problem. Buck just can’t be trusted to stick around. We know this from rescuing him from the pound- twice now- and from tracking him down a few other times at various houses ranging from nearby to far, far away. Part of the problem for Buck is the vast assortment of joggers that are continually running past our house; such a temptation. What dog doesn’t like to run? He sees them and thinks, “I’m in the mood for a run, too.” And away he goes.

In order to be able to keep Buck in the yard without supervision at night-time, we’d have to put up a fence. Scott decided on one of those underground, electric fences everyone’s using now. We read the reviews of the fences online and talked to lots of friends who had them. The consensus was that they worked great and were very easy to install- two or three hours at the most. (Ha)

Two entirely-too-long days later, and lots and lots of hard work and elbow grease, our fence was installed. Scott and I decided that the online reviews we read must have been referring to zero-lot-line properties and not the three acres we were dealing with which included woods and hills and hollers. It was not the easy-breezy chore we expected. But, finally, we were finished. Time to train.

The training is the part that bothers me the most. Poor ol’ Buck. He’s eight and a half years old now and that’s getting on in years for a Labrador Retriever. The fur around his eyes is turning white, a tell-tale sign he’s getting older. What’s that expression? You can’t teach an old dog new tricks? Well, although I don’t necessarily agree with that, I will say that teaching an old dog new tricks can be… tricky. And, kind of sad. I can’t help but feel sorry for him as he learns where the electric fence lies on the property he previously had full access to. Every time he cringes and retreats from the border, I feel terrible. I told my mom it was like putting an old person in a wheel chair and then just dumping them out occasionally for the heck of it.

Scott was working in the garden a week ago, just a day before we put the fence in. He was weeding it and prettying it up. I suggested that maybe putting the fence in was more important than weeding the garden since the garden would cease to exist if we didn’t hurry up and take care of the deer problem. But, Scott ignored my pleas and continued to weed. All – day – long. At the end of the afternoon, Buck, who was keeping Scott company, was suddenly very interested in something just across the road from our garden. Scott glanced over and there, right in front of him, was a deer- walking along, sweet as could be, munching on leaves as he went. He seemed to be saying, “Don’t mind me. Keep up the good work. I’m just window shopping now. I’ll be back later.” And, off he went. I’m pretty sure this deer’s behavior was very frustrating to my deer-hunter-husband.

But now the underground fence is installed and Buck is getting the hang of it. Our garden continues to be nibbled on nightly as we are not yet able to leave Buck out on his own. We want to be sure he understands where he’s supposed to stay- what his boundaries are. He has run through the fence a couple of times, quite (literally) shockingly. We’re still figuring out the correct settings.

Gardens. With all the trouble we’ve gone through this year- so far- I have to wonder if they’re worth it.

On the other hand, I know I’ll feel much differently once I pluck my first juicy, red cherry tomato off the vine and pop it into my mouth. Mmmmmmm… heaven.

Don Drysdale
Bob Gibson
Nolan Ryan
The 1951 (Bobby Thomson) Giants
Gaylord Perry
Joe Niekro
Whitey Ford
Albert Belle
Norm Cash
Greg Nettles
Sammy Sosa

They are all admitted and/or exposed cheaters.

Drysdale, Gibson, Ryan are famous headhunters. The brush pack pitch is a tradition in baseball. However there is a tremendous difference beteween taking back the inside portion of the plate from an aggressive hitter and intentionally using the human head as a target. The foot for pound force of a baseball thrown at 80+ miles per hour colliding with the bone structure of the human head is (dare I say it?) mind boggling! This practice has been banned in baseball for decades. It has ruined careers, threatened life and created in some cases lifelong pain and suffering.
The 1951 Giants. The Giants of the legendary Polo Grounds. The Giants of Bobby Thomson, The Shot Heard Round the World and the immortal cry of “THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT, THE GIANTS WIN THE PENNANT! The Giants had in place during the season a “sign” stealing system that played a huge part in their being able to erase a late season 13 ½ game deficit to the Dodgers. Herman Franks, couch for the Giants used a telescope while sitting in a center field clubhouse to read the opposing teams catchers signs. Using a buzzer system he would relay the information to the dugout and they would signal the hitter on what pitch to expect.
Gaylord Perry, two Cy Young awards, 314 game winner, five time All Star. Not content with his natural ability Perry is famous for the Vaseline Ball. A famous quote from Gene Tenace, Perry’s favorite catcher with the Padre’s, was that “the ball was sometimes so loaded he couldn’t throw it back to the mound.”
Joe Niekro, famous knuckleball pitcher, and younger brother of the Hall of Famer Phil Niekro pitched for 21 years in the Majors. Drafted by the Chicago Cubs he went on to compile an impressive 221 wins, 3.59 lifetime ERA and 1747 strikeouts. He also had a finger nail problem requiring the use of an emory board on the mound during the game.

The legendary Yankee Whitey Ford. Hall of Fame, 8 time All Star, World Series MVP in 1961, 6 time World Series Champion. After he retired Ford admitted to altering the ball in interesting ways. These included using his wedding ring to cut the ball. He worked out a conspiracy with catcher Elston Howard to use a buckle on his shin-guard to cut the ball. According to Wikopedia Ford “also planted mud pies around the mound and used them to load the ball. He confessed that when pitching against the Dodgers in the 1963 World Series, “I used enough mud to build a dam.” He also threw a “gunk ball,” which combined a mixture of baby oil, turpentine, and resin. He kept the “gunk” in a roll-on dispenser, which, the story goes, Yogi Berra once mistook for deodorant, gluing his arms to his sides in the process.”

The roll call of Corked Bat aficionados includes:

Norm Cash admitted to using a corked bat during his league leading 1961 41 home run, 132 RBI, 361 batting average season. He even showed on TV for Sports Illustrated how he loaded the bat!

Albert Belle, 5 time All Star was caught red handed with a doctored Bat during a game against the White Sox. The umpire took the bat and had it stored for later inspection and he had a teammate steal the incriminating evidence and replace it with a regulation bat. It didn’t work and Belle was suspended.

Craig “SuperBall” Nettles, one of the great Third Basemen of all times, 6 time All Star selection, 1981 American League MVP, and when confronted with six superballs that exploded onto the field from a broken bat during a league game, claimed that he didn’t know it the bat was loaded. That it was the first time he had used the bat, etc.

Sammy Sosa, well, enough said. It’s still too soon to have fun with this “special bat” poster child.

All of these “greats” of the game altered outcomes. In some instances they put careers and lives in peril and worked outside of the rules of the game to enhance their physical abilities. No sentient carbon based air breathing life form can believe that these players were/are rare exceptions. Over the years many like escapades have become humorous anecdotes or thrilling stories of the “hard-nosed” competition of the by-gone eras of baseball.

So what the heck does all this sanctimonious bleating of mine have to do with The Cardinals?

Mark McGwire.

He refused to lie to help his public image. He did not turn on his fellow teammates. He simply said that looking backward provided no solutions to the problem of steroid use. He has never been “caught”. He has never admitted to cheating. Did he use steroids? Almost certainly. Did he move outside the official rules of the game? Probably.

But these voting sportswriters and others who laugh at the anecdotes of spittballs, illegal bats, headhunters, spikers, unethical coaches. These sport governing bodies that condone and rehabilitate cocaine, speed, and marijuana abusers. These team owners, from all sports, whom overlook the actions of violent felons and award multi-million dollar fortunes to the same.

Deny Mark McGwire the Hall of Fame?

How dare they!

Luke says my last entry was dark! I’ll try to brighten it up (or stop having him read it).

We arrived at the airport in Uganda last night without a hitch. We were welcomed there by the director of the Adonai Child Development Center, Aloysious, two of his eight children, two teachers and a driver. From there it was about an hour and a half to our destination. Around the edge of Kampala, the capitol city, and into a rural area just north where the village of Namugoga and the Center lie.

It was completely black out – too dark to really see much – but a rich experience of sounds and smells. Lots of diesel vehicles on the road and road dust mixed with the smoke from cooking fires along the way. And then lots of people. (Hot, humid country, no air conditioning, little running water. Do the math.). It was too noisy in the bus for much conversation in English. But others talked in Luganda. And we could hear out the open windows and the sounds of people engaged in life. Lots of people.

I was a little nervous coming in. I had corresponded with Aloysious for about two months. But we had never met, and language got in the way of our email conversations to a degree. How could I be certain ANYONE would be there to collect us. But they were. With a handwritten sign and big smiles.

After preliminaries like setting up the mosquito nets and a cup of tea, we got into bed a little before midnight. No electricity, so everything was a little more complicated, and tiring.

It was a good first day. After getting some good sleep en route – the trip was twenty four hours in all – I was up early for a walk through the village. It’s just plain fun being a Muzungu (white person) in a village where you are the only one. I had a ball using the few expressions I learned on the way in. Good morning, how are you… that sort of thing. But people were pleased with the effort and more than a couple folks wanted to teach me more. The children were on their way to school. They just laughed and made fun of me. But the interaction was fun all the same.

We went on a tour of the Center after breakfast which ll say more about later.

The highlight of the day had to have been the hour-long bus ride into Kampala. This time with sights. An ever changing cast of some 20 characters, plus a baby, plus a rooster piled on and off the bus. It all seemed so natural though. I just enjoyed seeing the wry smile on Luke’s face as we drove in uncomfortably tight quarters, me next to the rooster. There’s something special about being somewhere where things are so different than what you’re used to that all you can do is smile. More later.

I drove out to Lake Charleston the other evening — not to fish or go birding or even to walk, but just to take a little car ride to break the monotony of my recent housecleaning fetish. I’ve been on a kick this week, cleaning carpets, disposing of clutter, even sweeping out my storage shed. Anyway, I stopped my car in the parking area between the boat launch and the new fishing pier and looked out over the lake. It was one of those hot, humid evenings that just evokes summer. A light haze or fog hung over the water, and fish or insects dimpled the surface. The lake looked like an oil portrait whose paint was melting and oozing down the canvas.

Summer certainly has arrived. The heat has been quite stifling. And best of all — for those of you who love it — it’s only getting started. Myself, I could call it a season and return to highs in the 60s and be perfectly happy.

I noticed that wild raspberries are starting to ripen. It should be a good year for both raspberries and blackberries. I’ve also seen black walnuts starting to form on limbs. Birds are fledging out young. Summer plantlife is in full form.

I guess the heat of summer just balances out the cold of winter. It’s all part of life. We have no choice in the matter, so we might as well accept it.

Personally, however, I’d be happier if spring and fall could take turns all year long and the extreme seasons could last just a week or two.

My name is John Leonard. I’ve coached (13years), played (poorly), watched, listened and adored baseball since I was 8 years old. I’m also old enough to have sat in the stands of the last 3 Cardinal ballparks. I’m not much of a football, soccer, hockey, NBA, NASCAR, Lacrosse, wrestling, boxing, extreme anything fan. For me it’s baseball.

I apologize in advance but pitching is my favorite part of the game and you will see a tendency to favor this part of the game in the coming weeks. I can sit with a cold beer on the patio and listen to a 2 to 1 ballgame into the 12th inning and love it!

My first experience with the Cardinals was as a Dodger. My memory isn’t what it used to be but I believe the year was 1962. Max Cougill’s Bellaire Bowling Alley Dodgers finished a great little league season in Charleston. We had even defeated our arch nemesis the Security Roofing Yankees in a tournament! My contribution to the season was benefiting at bat from the occasional trickling of a misplayed ball into the outfield and a shaky kneed tenure in right field.

To celebrate, the coach’s and the dads treated us to a game at Old Busch Stadium. It was a Sunday in September and it was hot! We wore our old cotton uniforms with Dodgers proudly embroidered on the front and “crowned” blue LA hats. Old timers know what I mean by a crowned hat. I know I must have roasted in that old uniform but I sure don’t remember that part of the day.

There’s a lot I do remember but a few things really stick out. We got to the ball park in time for batting practice. Back then we got to go right down next to the field and holler for autographs. Drysdale walked over and was signing for local kids but when he saw our uniforms he waived for us to move to the head of the line. Only God knows what happened to my scrap of paper signed by Don Drysdale. I wish he’d tell me.

What a day! We even were within “hollerin’” (in honor of Dizzy) distance of Pee Wee Reese and Dizzy Dean but that’s another story. Dad bought me a hot dog and a coke and spent most of his day keeping me corralled. I know I watched part of the game but most of the time was spent just gawking at all the new sights and sounds. On the way home we waived to the truck drivers to get them to hit their air horns. Old timers will remember air horns. I remember not being able to sleep for a week before the game or a week after.

The Cardinals won the game in a blow out. Drysdale got hammered. Koufax pitched at some point late in the game and that was probably the highlight of the day for me. I was a die hard Koufax fan. Players didn’t move around much back then but Koufax could have played for Security Roofing and I still would have rooted for him.

Once I hung up the L.A. uniform it was a natural transition over to the Cardinals. Like many fair weather fans however it was 1964 that hooked me for good. Bob Gibson, Curt Simmons, Tim McCarver, Ken Boyer, Lou Brock, Curt Flood. I mean come on! And they beat the damn Yankees!

Anyway that’s my beginning history with the greatest Sports franchise in America. The Cardinals have some big problems to overcome from a year ago. One of the biggest problems will be to find a closer. Over 30 blown saves last year wrecked Pujols MVP season and Ludwick’s 37 home run season. With a closer we would have played in October.

But the biggest problem for the Cardinals and all of baseball in the coming season is the same problem we all have, the economy. Will baseball need a bailout? Can team owners continue to inflate the cost of payrolls, seats and soda’s? Will the Cardinals hire a loan officer to process ticket requests?

According to St Louis Today the top ten payroll’s account for almost $1.4billion. Without factoring in what it will cost the Cardinals to gear up for 2009-2010 the team is already #11 in payroll expense with over $110 million! While the owners keep pushing the price of viewing up and up and up.

They just don’t get it. Maybe they believe that they are immune to what is going on around them. There will be fewer suits and cocktails in the seats because there are now fewer suits and fewer companies willing to splurge on the perks. There will be fewer blue collars and beers in the seats because many of them are now wearing fast food attire and working two and a half jobs to stay even.

Baseball is still America’s sport. And the St. Louis fans are the greatest in baseball. However, something’s going to have to happen on the owner’s side to push another 3million plus through the St. Louis turnstiles.

But the new Ballpark is cooool. Get there early. It’s a great place to take the kids if you can afford it. For me baseball still sounds better on the radio than watched on TV if you can’t get a ticket. Pujols and company continue to amaze even during their occasional mediocrity.

It’s gonna be a blast! And in homage to the “Diz” let’s hope we’ve “slud” into the Series by the end of the season.

It’s Thanksgiving, that time of year when think about… turkeys.

Wild turkeys are a pretty common sight in the woodlands of east-central Illinois these days. After having been reintroduced to the Prairie State a couple of decades ago, turkeys have thrived. Today, they’re hunted in most Illinois counties, and it’s not unusual to see an entire flock of a dozen or more scratching around for food in the woods and fields in our area.

Most of the turkeys we see in large flocks are hens or young birds. Gobblers tend to stay by themselves and are more secretive and less seldomly seen. I remember being out birding early one morning a summer or two ago and hearing a big tom calling in the distance. I raised my binoculars in that direction and saw the big bird slowly descending a dirt lane leading down from a woods. He was a magificent bird. I remember how funny it looked, however. Sound travels more slowly than light, of course, and in the distance, I could see his beak move as he gobbled, and then a second or so later hear his call. It looked like when the sound and picture get out of synch on TV.

We don’t usually think of turkeys as strong flyers, but once I flushed a flock and they flew at least a hundred yards across the Kaskaskia River over in Moultrie County.

Thursday was a good day to be a Cubs fan as they finally got a big come-from-behind win. The Chicago Cubs trailed the Chicago White Sox 5-1 in the eighth before the Cubs tied the game in the eight with four runs on back-to-back home runs by Derrek Lee and Geovany Soto with two outs. Alfonso Soriano drove in Reed Johnson with a two-out single for the dramatic 6-5 victory, putting them at 31-31.

Twenty two games left (before Friday’s game) for the Cubs before the all-star break and they are four games behind first place Milwaukee and two games in front of Pittsburgh and Houston. The Cubs have 13 home games left before the all-star break and are 18-13 at home. Hopefully the win gives them what they needed to get a winning streak going.

While Lee has improved his average to .278 and Ryan Theriot is at 283 the team still struggles with Soriano (.229), Soto (.223) and Milton Bradley (.227), but over the last seven days Bradley is batting .444 and Lee .350. In the last 30 days Mike Fontenot, who is struggling at .236 is .276, while Theriot is .273.

The starting pitching is fairly strong with Carols Zambrono 1-1 with a 2.20 earned run average over the last 30 days; Ted Lilly 2-1 with a 2.34 and Ryan Dempster 1-2 at 2.92.

Team wise the Cubs are 14th in the National League at .245 and third in pitching with a 3.84 earned run average and 11th in fielding with a .983 fielding percentage with 39 errors in 62 games.

June 12, the day Bradley mistakenly thought there were two outs after catching a ball and threw the ball into the stands in a 7-4 loss to the Minnesota Twins, a bigger mistake took place during the New York Yankees-New York Mets game when Luis Castillo dropped a pop fly, which would have given the Mets an 8-7 win, and two runs scored for the Yankees in the 9-8 game.

Sitting in the Indy airport watching the hard rain fall. Our flight is late, not due to the rain but for reasons down the line. We don’t have a big buffer in Newark for the European leg of the trip so I’m a little nervous. I’m also a little nervous at what we’ll find when we arrive at the AIDS orphan center where we’re volunteering for the next three weeks or so.

Going feels different now than when I lived there 25 years ago. The poverty was dramatic of course back then. But I went with the understanding that something – some kind of development – was at least possible. Armed as I was with the development latest theories. At least it would be fun to see what I learned in action.

AIDS has taken away all that optimism, naïve as it was even then. Now I’m nervous at being overwhelmed by the misery, with no escape. Aloysius and Abby, the couple that founded and run the Center have no escape. They live with eight children – three of them theirs, the others orphans, in a small house. They have no electricity, and few of the modern conveniences Americans can no longer live without. I hope we can do something that makes us worth the hassle we’ll no doubt be.

Boarding time. Out for now.

Gee. I guess I shouldn’t have written about how great the Charleston library was last week. I think I jinxed them. Right after I blogged about how great their remodel was, I read in the paper that they were laying off staff and cutting their hours. I kinda felt like I’d given them the kiss of death or something. I sure hope they can get things turned around- and that I’m not to blame…

We’ve been searching for things to do this summer to keep busy. We went to see Up at the movie theatre before Niko left for Arizona to see his dad. It was really good. I laughed and cried and smiled a lot. There was one part we found particularly funny. One of the dogs in the movie was being punished by his pack and they put the “Cone of Shame” on him. The “Cone of Shame” was one of those cones you get from the vet to keep your dog from licking or chewing on himself after surgery- or due to allergies, like with our dog, Lulu. When we saw the little cartoon dog with his Cone of Shame on- and the look on his face- we all turned to each other and were like, “THAT is EXACTLY what Lulu looks like when we put her cone on her!” She looks so embarrassed. The Cone of Shame. What a perfect name.

This past Friday we rented Madasgascar: Escape 2 Africa. I think I liked it better than the first Madagascar movie. Those lemurs are hilarious. Especially when they’re riding in the airplane in the First Class section, like royalty- only… not. Taylor has seen it three times now and wants to talk about it constantly.

“What was your favorite animal in the movie?”

“What was your favorite part of the movie?”

“What part of the movie made you laugh the most?”

Scott and I have answered those questions about ten times already- and listened to her answers even more, and in vivid detail.

After we dropped Niko off at the airport in St. Louis, we took Taylor to the St. Louis Galleria Mall for our annual Build-A-Bear store visit. We’ve done this now for the past… hold on, let me count the dolls and stuffed animals she’s made… okay, four… so, four years now. It takes her mind off of missing her brother and gives her something to hold onto when she misses him on the drive home. This year she chose to build a bunny. Last year it was a panda bear and the two previous years she made dolls at their sister store- Friends 2B Made. The most fun part of building the animals or dolls is picking out their clothes. There are outfits galore in that place: everything from panties to shoes to graduation gowns. Taylor picked out about ten outfits, including matching shoes, and stood in front of the dressing room mirror with her bunny trying on clothes. Scott, being the wonderful dad that he is, stood beside her offering his opinions- and even helped pick out some outfits that he liked best. It’s not all that costly to build the bear or bunny or doll or whatever, but the clothing can add up. You have to be careful with that. Then again, how can you buy the pretty pink dress without the matching pink rhinestone shoes? It’s a predicament…

Sunday, Taylor was rummaging through the game closet and found a Kid Concoctions book set that she’d forgotten they had. She brought the book and bowls and measuring spoons upstairs and began reading recipes to me. I was in the middle of cooking supper, but decided to fit in making some goo stuff while the potatoes cooked. It was simple, really, with just water, corn starch and food coloring. Once it was done, she stood at the counter and played with it for half an hour. I highly recommend the Kids Concoctions books and recipes. They’re a lot of fun for little to no money (other than the cost of the books because, usually, you have the stuff in your house already to make most of the things in the books).

Today Taylor is working on painting a book of pictures for her daddy for Father’s Day. So far, she has about five done. They’re adorable and her efforts reminded me that I needed to come up with something for my dad and step-dad for Father’s Day, too. It’s hard to come up with something for dads once they’re older- and you’re an adult child. I mean, if my dads want something, they go out and buy it themselves- and they get the one they want. I’ve bought what I thought was the right one before, only to find out that it really wasn’t… quite… the right one. And other times I’ve just bought something on a whim- and then found it later, collecting dust in the corner somewhere, forgotten.

So, I’m thinking maybe Taylor has the right idea. I think I’ll just wrap this blog up and paint me some pictures! How hard could it be? Of course, the bar may be raised a bit now that I’m older…

Aw, heck. Back to square one… Ideas anyone?

The Food Guide Pyramid also emphasizes the importance of finding the balance between food and physical activity. Children should be encouraged to stay within a daily calorie limit. Children should also be encouraged to exercise 60 minutes daily most days of the week.

Children should set a good example for their family and encourage them to exercise as well. Families can take the President’s Challenge together. Use HYPERLINK “http://www.presidentschallenge.org” www.presidentschallenge.org to track individual physical activities together and earn awards for active lifestyles. Children should be encouraged to establish a routine and to set aside time each day as activity time. Children could set up a home gym using everyday household items, like canned goods for weights to exercise at home. Stairs in a home can be substituted for a stair machine. TV time and computer time should be limited. However, if children are watching TV or using the computer they should be encouraged to take breaks or get up and move during commercials. Children can give gifts to their friends that encourage physical activity.

Jennifer Hills, MS, RD, LDN

Start thinking of your glass as half full. Being alert to negative information when we’re young may help us survive. As years go on, and you make it through life’s hardships, you gain the freedom to relax, expect good things, and fret less about bad ones.
Take this into consideration when you begin a new exercise routine. Be optimistic about the “return on investment” you will receive once you begin and stick to your routine. When you begin with a positive attitude, it will help motivate you to continue, and maybe even increase your exercise routine.

Carrie A Hooten, MS
Wellness Specialist

I have a buddy for my grocery store trips now. She’s not terribly enthusiastic about going, but since she’s only eight, she doesn’t have much of a choice. I encourage her enthusiasm by promising that she can pick out a Lunchable while we’re there. There’s just something about a cardboard box full of nachos, cheese dip and a juice pouch that gets my kids excited. I don’t know what it is, but it works.

Last Tuesday was our first trip to the store, just the two of us. The week before, Niko had gone with us, too. He’d run into a few friends from school while we were there and seemed a bit uncomfortable about it. I’m not sure why. Maybe being out in public anywhere with your mom and little sister makes a teenage boy uncomfortable. Or maybe seeing a friend in an expected place is just… weird.

I guess that’s what happened to Taylor last week. She’s not at the age to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed by me (yet), so I know it wasn’t that. She was actually, initially, very excited when one of her best friends from school came running down the aisle to say hello. Here’s what happened.

“HI, TAYLOR!” Brooklynne said with enthusiasm as she ran full speed at Taylor.

Taylor turned in surprise to see her good friend from school- right there in the grocery store, no less- running toward her. Her eyes got wide and happy and she smiled this huge smile and answered back, “HI, BROOKLYNNE!”

And then… they just stood there. Smiling. Looking around. Staring at the canned goods. Looking at their shoes. Concentrating on a piece of non-existent lint across the floor.

“Well, bye then,” said Brooklynne. And off she went.

Taylor walked back up to stand beside my cart.

“That was awkward…” she said, her eyes kind of big and confused-looking.

And I kind of understood. It was probably the same for her brother last week. The kids see their friends all the time at school, or in an after-school-type setting. It’s very rare for them to see their friends in a grocery store setting, amongst the cans of pork and beans. What in the world do you talk about? I mean, is Taylor supposed to say, “Hey, Brooklynne, have you ever tried these beans? Just add a little barbecue sauce and some bacon and onion… and wow! They’re fixed right up. Tasty.” I think not.

So, I had to give Taylor a little lesson on casual conversation. Because it’s not like you can just grab your friend’s hand in the middle of Wal-Mart and run over to the swing sets and play horsies now, can you?

“Why was it awkward?” I asked Taylor.

“Because… I don’t know what to say to her here, in the store…” She smirked a little, like I should know that already.

“Well, you should say the same things that I would, I suppose. Like… ‘Hi! How are you? What have you been doing this summer? I like your sandals. Maybe you could come over and play some time soon?’ And then tell her it was nice seeing her and you’ll call her sometime.”

Taylor listened to my advice, but I still think it was hard for her to envision an actual adult-type conversation with one of her friends as they’re standing next to pouches of taco seasoning and boxes of French onion soup mix.

We saw Brooklynne off and on through-out the rest of the store that day. Mostly, she’d fly by the end of the aisle, sailing on her mom’s shopping cart, smiling and waving at us. She was having fun and really didn’t care what anyone thought about her.

But my kids, me, my husband… we’re not like that. I wish we were. I wish I could sail on shopping carts and steal up on people and holler, “HEY! WHAT’S SHAKIN’, BACON?!”

But, I’m not that way. I’m more likely to creep quietly through the aisles and if I see someone I know, I’ll silently wonder if they’ll notice me and if they do, then I’ll say hello. But if they seem busy, intent on studying the nutrition label on lima beans or something, then I won’t bother them.

Taylor seems to be the same way. We’re always worried about being embarrassed. And I hate that we’re worried about it. Because, really, I think we’d much rather be sailing on shopping carts.

Shots weren’t too bad at all. We both had one for Hepatitus A. Luke had one for Yellow Fever. We got an oral vaccine for Typhoid we need to take over the next six days. Then we’ll have to go back in six months to have a second shot to complete the Hep A cycle.

The nurse was nice. She gave us a booklet about all the precautions we needed to take. Make sure we use bottled water, even for brushing teeth. I didn’t have the heart to tell her all the things that were impossible or unavailable in a rural area. You do your best. That’s all. That’s all for now.

This is a photo of me in Tutume, Botswana, in 1985 while the river was flooded.

First entry. Really just trying to get the hang of blogging.

Tomorrow, shots. Yellow fever is required and several others are recommended. I had most done for a trip a few years ago. Luke will need them all. As he said on Facebook, Africa better be worth it!

It is. And then some. Botswana is 25 years ago but the memories are clear enough. The bush, in a Landcruiser. Looking for lions but getting chased by elephants. Getting chased by rhinos - on horseback. The two zebra that welcomed me there in my yard that first night at home in the village. The Castle lager, a pleasant surprise, washed it all down so nicely.

But then I’m caught short by less pleasant memories. Still, ones that stick. My second night. Getting lost in the teachers compound and coming across the howling dog in its last stages of starvation. The children at the clinics right out of a World Vision infomercial.

I digress. But not really. Volunteering in Botswana so long ago really is the starting point for this adventure. It’s where I met Luke’s mother – who has faithfully encouraged my exploits since. It’s also where I got hooked on the exhilaration of experience itself.

I don’t know where this journal will lead. I know I have to keep it. Recently, I came across the letters I sent my parents from Botswana. They’re a gift. Maybe this journal will be too in 25 years. Meanwhile, I hope that anyone interested in following our exploits will be able to check out my blog. Maybe Luke will here share too, although he plans to do his own.

Here’s our itinerary. We’ll depart Sunday, June 14 from Indianapolis airport. After stops in Newark and Brussels, we’ll arrive Entebbe the night of June 15. We’ll leave from Entebbe on August 8 and arrive home on August 9th.

We’ll spend the first month at Nyaka School. Nyaka is a school for Aids orphans in rural Southwest Uganda. About a seven hour drive from Kampala, the capital. (More about Nyaka and our activities there later.) After Nyaka, we plan an 8 day safari in the Serengetti and then a week on Zanzibar, off the coast of Tanzania. (Ah, those beautiful beaches on the Indian ocean…) Still planning other parts of the trip.

We’ll post when we can. But there isn’t an internet connection in the village where the school is. Though they have 24 hour electricity. A neighboring village does have internet so we will get there as often as we can. To post, check email and update facebook and to skype Wenche.

It will be great to hear from you while we travel!

Out for now. Bruce

Baseball is a game of what-ifs. I think the “what-if” that weighs most on my mind — besides Don Denkinger’s blown call in the 1985 World Series — is “What if the Cardinals hadn’t traded away their pitching in the early 1970s?”

I know that there are three kinds of lies – lies, damned lies and statistics, and that I base my logic on statistics, but it’s interesting to think about, anyway.

Back in 1971, the Cardinals’ pitching staff included Bob Gibson, Steve Carlton, Jerry Reuss and Mike Torrez – two future Hall of Famers and two others who would win more than 300 games between them. Gibson, of course, was near the conclusion of his illustrious career. But like Reuss and Torrez, Carlton was just getting started — on his way to winning 329 career games. The three youngsters could have anchored the St. Louis pitching staff throughout the decade, and if they had, there’s no telling how many pennants the Cardinals might have won. Instead, the 1970s have to rank with the 1950s in terms of futility for the franchise.

Carlton, of course, was traded to Philadelphia before the 1972 season in a contract dispute. Lefty wanted $65,000 a year, and Cardinals owner August Busch only wanted to pay him $60,000, so for $5,000, the team traded away the greatest southpaw of his generation. Philadelphia, eventually, won a number of division titles and its first-ever world championship behind Carlton. In exchange, the Cardinals acquired pitcher Rick Wise.

About the same time, St. Louis traded Reuss to Houston for pitcher Scipio Spinks. And Torrez went to Montreal for hurler Bob Reynolds.

How did the Cardinals fare in these three deals? Over the next 10 seasons, from 1972 to 1981, Steve Carlton won 175 games while Wise won 32 for the Cardinals before he was traded away. Jerry Reuss won 121 games for other teams and Spinks totaled six wins for the Cardinals in two years before his exit. And Mike Torrez notched 144 wins while Reynolds had no record in a Cardinals uniform.

So, from 1972 to 1981, 10 seasons, pitchers who were under contract to the Cardinals in 1971 won 440 games, while their replacements won just 38.

No wonder the ’70s were a vast wasteland for baseball in St. Louis.

But what if the Cardinals had kept Carlton, Reuss and Torrez? How many pennants might they have won?

As I said, the 1970s were not a good time for the Cardinals. Most seasons that decade, even having these three stars on the roster wouldn’t have made much of a difference. In 1972, St. Louis finished 21.5 games behind the Pirates; in 1975, 10.5 behind the Pirates; in 1976, 29 behind the Phillies; in 1977, 18 behind the Phillies; in 1978, 21 behind the Phillies; in 1979, 12 behind the Pirates; and in 1980, 17 behind the Phillies.

But what about the other years?

In 1973, the Cardinals ended up just 1.5 games behind the Mets. In 1974, they finished 1.5 games behind the Pirates. And in 1981, the shortened strike season that was split into two parts, the Cardinals had one more loss than the Phillies in the first half and one less win than the Expos in the second half and were, thus, shut out of the post-season.

In those three years, 1973, 1974 and 1981, the Cardinals fell just short of winning their division and gaining a post-season berth where… who knows what might have happened?

Would having Carlton, Reuss and Torrez on the staff in ’73, ’74 and ’81 have made a difference?

In ’73 – albeit for other teams – the trio had a combined record of 38-35. Had the Cardinals won three more games that season, they would have erased the 1.5 game deficit.

In ’74, the three had a combined record of 47-32 – 15 games over .500 and plenty enough extra wins to take what was then the Eastern Division.

And in ’81, they combined for a 33-11 mark – 22 games over .500 and, again, more than enough to punch their ticket to October.

OK, you say, all this might be true. But if the Cardinals still had Carlton, Reuss and Torrez on their roster, they might not have had room, nor money to pay, the ace whom they did have in ’73, ’74 and ‘81. Thus, you might argue, the wins of their actual top pitcher those years have to be subtracted from the team’s virtual record. All right, so be it.

In 1973, Reggie Cleveland led the staff with a record of 14-10. Take away his four-game margin of wins and the Carlton-Reuss-Torrez factor is, indeed, negated.

But in 1974, Lynn McGlothen was the top winner, with a 16-12 mark. Subtract his four-win margin from the trio’s plus-15 wins, and the Cardinals still easily beat out Pittsburgh.

And in 1981, Bob Forsch was the staff leader in wins at 10-5. Subtract his five wins from the troika’s 22, and again, the Cardinals breeze into October.

And don’t forget the 1977 and 1980 seasons, either. True, in ’77, the Cardinals finished 18 games behind the Phillies, but Carlton won 23 games. Take those wins away from the Phils and add them to the Cardinals, and St. Louis would have at least made a race out of it. And in 1980, when the Cards trailed Philly by 17 games, Carlton notched 24 wins for the team from Pennsylvania. Again, take those wins from the Phillies and give them to the Cardinals, and good things might have happened.

So there you have it – incontrovertible, uncontestable, empirical proof…

… or at least some statistics that make an interesting argument.

True to my word, I’ve been trying to get out and do more things so I can write about them. And although I haven’t yet attempted to slide down a fire-pole in a fire station, I have done something else almost as exciting: I joined our local library! Well, actually, we all joined our local library- Scott, Niko, Taylor and I. We used to be members several years ago, when we lived in town, but after moving out of the city limits, we let our membership drop. Lately, though, after having bought loads and loads of books for my kids and seeing how the dollars were adding up; I decided joining the library made good sense. So, off we went Monday evening.

When I was younger, growing up in Charleston, I remember going to the Charleston Carnegie Public Library to do research for school reports. It was dark and old and quiet and made me feel uncomfortable. Years later, when Niko and Taylor were small, I joined the library again- mostly so Taylor would have someplace to go during the day when she was in need of social interaction. They had a really cool train set and an interesting wooden dollhouse, plus some really neat puppets. But it was still dark and old and quiet and made me feel uncomfortable.

So you can imagine my surprise and incredible delight when I entered our new and improved library for the first time since it was remodeled and added onto. Wow! It reminded me of the libraries I was used to in the big cities back in Arizona where I lived for nine years. It was light and airy and full of this wonderful energy- and books! Books everywhere for all ages separated into their own little- big, actually- areas. Kids can hang out with kids; teens can hang out with teens; adults can hang out with adults. It’s absolutely perfect. And I don’t feel uncomfortable- or like I’m risking my life whenever I have to cough or speak out-loud.

Taylor immediately checked out four books and has read one completely through already and started another. We have an entire four weeks to read them, which is really very ample. That’s another thing that has always bothered me about libraries- the due dates. Having the due dates hanging over my head stressed me out. Usually, the due dates were something like two weeks and that seemed like such an impossible task- as a mother, always being interrupted- to finish a book in two weeks. But, four… I think I can handle that. Plus, when I asked what the maximum number of books was that you could check out at any given time, they said, “As many as you are able to carry.” Woo-hoo! It was a dream come true.

Even Scott, the only non-reader in our family, was impressed.

“So, Honey, do you think you’ll ever use the library?” I asked him as we wandered through the section of books on construction and gardening.

“Yeah, I think I would,” he answered sincerely. “If I’m ever working up here on the square, I’d definitely come here to use the bathroom. This place is nice.”

He was kidding, of course. Well, maybe a little. They did have nice bathrooms.

As for me, I could smell the books all around me and I could just feel them pulling me in. What a truly special place. Well done, Charleston Carnegie Public Library! It’s a little piece of heaven in the midst of an otherwise dreary economy.

The last band of the Food Guide Pyramid is the yellow band and it represents the fats, sugars and salt groups. Children should be encouraged to “know the limits” of this group. Most of the fat in a child’s diet should come from fish, nuts and vegetable oils. Solid fats like butter, margarine, shortening and lard or foods that contain these fats should be limited. Use the Nutrition Facts label on food products to keep saturated fat, trans fat and sodium low. Children should be encouraged to choose foods and beverages low in added sugar. Children ages 9-13 should be allowed no more than 5 teaspoons of fat per day.

Most of the fats children eat should be polyunsaturated (PUFA) or monounsaturated (MUFA) fats. Oils are the major source of MUFAs and PUFAs in the diet. PUFAs contain some fatty acids that are necessary for health—called essential fatty acids. Because oils contain these essential fatty acids, there is an allowance for oils in the food guide. The MUFAs and PUFAs found in fish, nuts, and vegetable oils do not raise LDL (“bad”) cholesterol levels in the blood. In addition to the essential fatty acids they contain, oils are the major source of vitamin E. While consuming some oil is needed for health, oils still contain calories. In fact, oils and solid fats both contain about 120 calories per tablespoon. Therefore, the amount of oil consumed needs to be limited to balance total calorie intake.

Jennifer Hills, MS, RD, LDN

On August 10, 1986 I shepherded a herd of cats disguised as 9 and 10 year old baseball players to Busch stadium. I took with me $100 in hot dog and foam finger money along with 2 bewildered but otherwise willing fathers.

I remember this day very distinctly for four reasons. One, I lost two of the kids. Two, Vince Coleman stole four bases during the game. Three, Bob Forsch hit a grand slam home run in the bottom of the 5th inning. Four, I should have brought more money.

As to the first event you have to remember that my herd of cat’s metaphor makes sense to anyone who has ever been in a similar situation. Try being a lifeguard at a local pool for a day, or a teacher on a field trip to the zoo.

Now remember there were three so called supervisory adults at the game. Unfortunately all three were male. Meaning they (me) were watching the game and not as aware of their mewing minions as they should have been and/or were in various stages of vendor transactions.

We had decided before we left town that we would do periodic head counts. We did one when we loaded. We did one each of the 80 times we stopped along the way for bathroom breaks. We did one in the parking lot across from the stadium as we disembarked. We positioned a well meaning adult male at the head of each of the stairs and ramps we climbed whose job was to take a head count of our charges as we moved upward to our seats on the roof (you had to know somebody to get these seats).

We appointed a snack stand adult male. We appointed a bathroom adult male. We appointed a treasurer (me). The snack stand and bathroom adult males had obvious responsibilities. I, being the coach and person possessing of the highest personnel management skills doled out the funds and was to “check” to make sure no one had wandered off.

Everything would have gone well except for two things. One, the game started. Two, all hell broke loose.

Again, the herd of cat’s metaphor begins to make sense. Chaos Theory describes events that are apparently disordered, but really possess an underlying order. And I must say even though I viewed the almost 2 ½ hours of the game as Chaotic, over the years I’ve been able to see the underlying order of the dance like movements of frenzied boys dodging frantic adult males grasping fingers.

At some point we three, we courageous few, simply became numb. Now meanwhile keep in mind that Bob Forsch and Vince Coleman are having historic days in the field. Keep in mind that it is a nail biter game. Keep in mind that Forsch was pitching a gem, giving up his first hit in the sixth inning and not giving up another hit until the top of the 8th. Keep in mind that Coleman stole two bases on back to back pitches in the third inning and was on his way to 4 steals. Keep in mind that three adult males broke the no beer vow that they had taken in the parking lot at home.

And so it was, as Forsch was struggling to hold it together in the top of the eighth and was replaced by Horton and then Worrell, the treasurer (me) decided to take a head count during the changes. He (me) came up two short.

Bill Cosby had an interesting observation about kids. “We bring em into the world and we can take em out and make another just like em in nine months.” Unfortunately one of the two missing had a Lawyer for a parent. We three adult males cooly and calmly decided that we would be better off if we attempted retrieval. In other words we panicked.

Leaving one adult male with the remaining herd we took off in opposite directions. No, we didn’t involve an usher at this point. We still had a shred of pride and self respect left. Actually going up to an usher smelling of Budweiser and asking for help locating a child is unwise until absolutely necessary.

I could tell you that through a logical, grid like, search pattern we quickly located the missing boys. But that would be a lie. I could tell you that they wandered back on their own but that would be a lie. I could tell you that they waived to us from across the stadium and we just happened to see them waiving. That would be the truth. How they got there, why they went there is unimportant. We got em back and they were laughing so much we decided not to execute them.

We got back to our seats just in time to watch Worell finish off the last three Pirate batters. Cardinals win by one run in a game that was in doubt to the end. A hall of fame game by Bob Forsch. An incredible once in a lifetime offensive performace by Vince Coleman. And I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there and get those little……… well….. young boys home.

And so it goes. We grow old and our greatest fears and frustrations become “war stories”. We survived. The two young boys have grown to become Men and fathers. One is now a teacher and father of three. The other, well, he named his son after his father (me).

When we walked into the house this past Saturday night, Taylor finally broke down. She’d done pretty well on the drive home. I had read the rest of Utterly Me, Clarice Bean to her as we drove along (don’t worry… Scott was driving) and it distracted her fairly well. But once we arrived home and walked in the kitchen door, the silence hit her and it was just too much.

Bubby wasn’t there. His heavy footsteps wouldn’t be falling across the hardwood floor for a long time- eight weeks, to be exact. And life as we knew it had changed- just… like… that.

And now we have to find a new normal.

It’s not like we haven’t done it before. He’s been flying out to Arizona since he was three years old. Those were terrible times for all of us. My heart still aches to think of those years. I lost a part of me every time he left and I don’t think I ever got it back. I worry that he lost a part of himself, too.

But he’s adjusted so well and has become such a well-rounded, loving, and kind-hearted young man: strong and confident and worldly. He loves to fly and travel and hopes to one day go to Europe. I suppose it’s all worked out like it was supposed to. As good as can be hoped for under the circumstances.

Before we left, Taylor was telling me that she and Daddy were going to go to the shops and get ice cream while they waited for me to put Nickel on his plane. I told her that we had to go to a different concourse this year and there were no shops or ice cream places for her to go to.

“I wish we could go to the other concourse,” she said wistfully.

“If we did,” I said. “Then Bubby wouldn’t be able to get on his plane because it wouldn’t be there.” I thought about that for a second and then added, “Hey! Maybe we should do that. Then he’d have to stay home with us!”

I expected Taylor to play along with my funny game, but she surprised me with her response. My kids are always surprising me. Here’s what my wise little daughter said.

“No, Mama. Niko needs to see his daddy. I get to spend time with my daddy all the time and he needs to spend time with his daddy, too.”

See what I mean? It’s tough to argue with that. She was being quite adult about the situation. I was pretty proud of my Little Buddha.

I try to focus on the feelings of others, but sometimes I get caught up in my own. I suppose that’s only natural. I am walking around in my body, after all, and not someone else’s.

One day, a couple of years ago, I was sitting in church and a man came and sat down next to me. We started a conversation and I found that he was feeling down about having just dropped off his kids from a weekend visit. He was missing them and feeling depressed about the whole situation. I told him I knew how he felt because I’d just dropped off my son at the airport the day before and that he would be gone for eight weeks visiting his dad. The man looked at me and shook his head. He said, “Wow. That’s awful…” I was thinking, yeah, it is awful. I miss him so much and it’s so hard on all of us when he’s gone, but before I could say anything, he continued, “Here I am feeling sorry for myself, but I get to see my kids most every weekend. Your ex-husband only gets to see his son once a year. I never looked at it that way before. I’m actually lucky. I’ve just been looking at the whole thing wrong.” He shook his head and then looked at me sincerely and said, “I think you’re a God-send. I really do. I think God sent you to show me that things aren’t as bad as I was making them out to be. That I need to be more appreciative. I believe I sat down here next to you for a reason.”

As I sat there swallowing the words that had been on my tongue, it occurred to me that this man really had sat down next to me for a reason. And that reason may have actually been two-fold. It’s all in your perspective. There are an awful lot of shoes to walk in and we have to remember to try them all on.

So, here we are. Beginning another summer without our Bubby. Niko is the one who says our supper-time prayer. He asks us two questions every, single day. In the morning: How did you sleep? And in the evening: So, how was everyone’s day? Every, single day, he asks us those questions. And now… well, I guess someone else will have to say the prayer and someone else will have to ask those questions and fill the empty air around us. No one can take his place. We can only try to fill the emptiness he’s left behind- until he comes home again.

A new normal. That’s what we’re working on. People do it all the time. After a separation or divorce, families have to find a new normal. After a change in job or residence, you have to find a new normal. If a family member gets sick, everyone has to come up with a new normal. It’s not always fun, but it is possible. And I’ve done it many, many times over the last forty-three years- both successfully and unsuccessfully, but I’ve always hung in there. Reaching for a new normal.

And that’s what we’ll be doing this summer- Scott, Taylor, and I, Niko and his dad and his grandparents. All of us will be working on a new normal. And trying on each others shoes, hopefully, and walking in them a bit. Just to see, you know. To feel. For each other. As we reach for our new normal.

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