California Trip: A Photo Essay

On June 19, we flew from Seattle to LAX, to spend a month with family. This is the view from our plane shortly after landing at LAX.

The next morning, we headed to downtown Claremont, where I visited the Folk Music Center. These are some of the banjos for sale there.

That night we went down to Anaheim, and watched our beloved Seattle Mariners take on the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. The Mariners were up 7 runs with Felix pitching, and it looked like a blowout. But these are the Mariners we're talking about. The Angels came back and won.

Here's Olivia enjoying the scenery.

And here's Clara doing her happy dance.

A few days later I enjoyed a nice visit with my old friend and roommate, Michael Noffsinger, at the Black Abbey in Claremont.

The second weekend was spent in Mexicali, where we celebrated Clara's birthday. It was hot.

But not too hot for penguins.

Clara made a new friend.

Then she destroyed her new friend

We eventually headed back to Upland, where we enjoyed a relaxing 4th of July.

One of the highlights of the trip was our visit to the California Science Center, where we saw the Space Shuttle Endeavour.

Here is the toilet from Endeavour.

Later that day we went to Venice Beach and the girls got their feet wet.

Stay tuned for part 2. . .

Our most recent camping trip, in question format

We spent this last week camping in Eastern Washington at Sun Lakes/Dry Falls State Park. Temps between 60-90, lots of sun, a lake in which to swim and fish, mini-golf, spectacular geology, a snack stand with delicious ice cream shakes, lots of wildlife, and it was the perfect week. But a few questions remain. . .

- why is there always somebody in the campground who labors under the false impression that everybody else wants to listen to their choice in music?

- as a subset to the previous, why is their choice in music always either country or metal? Why is there never a camper blasting jazz or classical? Maybe that ought to be my new thing.

- why is boaters+camping always a recipe for obnoxious, drunken, loutish behavior?

- why do quail run more than fly? Don't they know how silly they look?

- why does the Air Force decide to run late-night low-level flight training directly over campgrounds full of tired campers?

-  why is the Washington State Parks system in such financial trouble? If anything should be funded, it's the parks that give us all such joy and recreation.

- why is it that a week of rest and relaxation can be destroyed by 15 minutes of rush hour traffic on I-5 through Federal Way?

- why don't park rangers get more recognition? Ranger Dennis was very kind and helpful to us after our children drained the battery on the Kia the last night there. (he was also very professional in dealing with the attempted rape by an axe-wielding, murderous-threat-spewing drunkard down the way our first night there (no - we weren't involved. Just hear all the screaming and shouting)).

- why do kids grow up so fast? And why do the good times pass so quickly? Between standing on the dock teaching the girls to cast their lines, jumping from the diving block into the deep, cool water, making s'mores over the evening campfire, and watching Clara spend an hour tracing the path of a beetle through the campsite, these were the good times.

Our Day at the Fair

The Down Home Band playing at the 2012 Key Peninsula Fair. One notable item of note - that's my daughter Olivia sitting and playing to my left. This is the first time we've played a gig together.

It's Not All Bad

It's been a tough couple of weeks, hasn't it? Between fires in Colorado, storms in Florida, a fall-like gloom blanketing Washington, the political turmoil of the last days. . .there's a lot of chaos, fear, and anger out there. In addition, our little church has multiple people fighting cancer and other illnesses, and a good friend lost his father to cancer two days ago. It's been a season of grief, tension, hope, doubt, and wondering.

In the midst of it all, I keep reminding myself it's not all bad. On Saturday we celebrated the graduation of a friend, rejoicing in her accomplishment, and the plans she has for her future. On Sunday I had the privilege of baptizing three of our people, and reaffirming the baptism of a fourth. Baptisms are always a high point of the ministerial life, but this time around was made all the more special by the fact that two of those four were my own daughters - certainly a highlight of my life as a pastor and a dad. Then we had a chance to celebrate the youngest's birthday (and my dad's birthday, as well) later that afternoon, and the house was filled with family and friends and lots of little kids and good food and cupcakes. It was celebration in the fullness of that word - joy and laughter and love and hope and gladness.

And on Wednesday, the one sunny day in the midst of a gloomy early summer, we had the chance to go up to Mt. Rainier for the day. It's been a few years for me and the family, and it was good to get back. Lunch in the Paradise Inn, experiencing the new visitor center, hiking up a bit into the snow, taking a short nap out in the high alpine sunshine, rubbing shoulders with people from all over the world, stopping alongside the Nisqually River to enjoy the view, standing in awe of the snowy expanse of Rainier, pausing in Ashford to get some ice cream. It was the perfect day.

And it was a good reminder to me that there are more important things than Supreme Court decisions, and that good can still be found when we take the time to look for it.

Well that was. . .fun

In case you didn't hear, we had a little snowstorm up here in the Puget Sound area. After a brief snowfall on Sunday, and some light snowy conditions early in the week, we woke up Wednesday morning to a foot of snow covering everything.

It was beautiful. It was wonderful. It was a nice day to take the kids sledding at the local elementary school, followed by hot chocolate at a friend's house.

Thursday's when it all got interesting. The snow was followed by freezing rain. Everything was covered by 1/2 an inch of ice. The Jeep looked like it was encased in crystal. Plants and trees glistened as if dipped in glass. It was breathtaking.

It was also dangerous. All that extra weight was more than many trees could bear. Water seeped into trees, and, freezing, expanded outward. Soon branches large and small, and, in many cases, whole trees were crashing to the ground. The road below our house was raining large branches and heavy chunks of ice. We wandered down to the marina and saw many trees broken over. Our driveway was blocked by a 16-inch oak branch. There was a boat broken loose at the marina. Everything was a mess.

Then the power went out. We were out about 24 hours, which isn't so bad, considering many are still in the dark. The woodstove kept us warm, and candles offered light for playing and reading. Inside, it was cozy.

But I wandered out Thursday night and stood in the middle of our driveway. It sounded like a war zone, between the constant popping of trees snapping off and the flash/bang of transformers blowing up over by the highway. For the first time in 6 years I actually felt a little worried about living in the woods. The night was restless, as sleep was punctuated by the sound of falling trees, and chainsaws clearing the road below.

Friday we got the Jeep out and went for a drive, checking on people and shooting some video footage. Trees were down everywhere. Power and phone lines dangled down from poles onto the ground. Ice chunks continued to rain down from on high. More branches lay across our driveway.

And yet, everywhere we went people seemed in a good mood. There was laughter and joy in the sharing of survival stories. We had lunch at the local Mexican restaurant, and saw a dozen or so friends there. Across the street at the market cars were slipping and sliding through the parking lot, but everybody was helping each other out. While people in more civilized areas seemed to be angry and offended at the weather (based on the tone of callers to local radio programs), those out here on the KP just got down to making it work.

And now it's melting, and life is returning to normal, and the kids are getting restless, and 'mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again." I think we can even get the Kia out of the driveway. And last night I told the girls "now when you're old you can say 'I remember back to the great storm of '12, when school was closed for a week and all the trees fell down and we had to use a Jeep to get out and we all camped in the living room to stay warm by the fire.'"

Good times.

Pepe and the Beast

Late last week we headed off to bed but couldn't find the dog anywhere. So we called for him outside. He came, but. . . Pepe was alive, but it was obvious he'd had a run-in with some sort of wild beast out in the yard. Bite wounds on his head, claw marks on his side and belly, one leg hanging limp.

Thankfully we had a friend spending the night, so we could make the midnight run to the 'local' emergency vet (and by 'local,' I mean 30 minutes away in Tacoma). I expected him to be dead by the time we got there. But he made it. The vet took him in the back, then met with us to talk about process. And by process, I mostly mean how much it all would cost. All the time she talked we could hear Pepe yelping in the back as the technicians attempted to diagnose the extent of his wounds. (We'd later see on the admittance form where they wrote "unable to diagnose right front leg - he tried to kill us." Which, if you know our dog, you have to admit is kind of funny.)

He spent the night there, and once they sedated him they were able to figure out that it really wasn't all that bad - just a lot of surface wounds, cuts, bite marks, claw marks. He came home 1/2-shaved and with drugs, so he's kind of a punk dog right now. And all in all, it didn't cost as much as it could have, so we have that to be thankful for.

We still don't know what it was that got to him - we have raccoons in the yard, and I saw a fox run across our driveway the next day. I suppose he's lucky to be alive, considering how much this beast scarred him up. And we're lucky, too; I didn't want to deal with a dead dog right before Christmas. I wasn't too happy with him at first, but I guess I have to be proud of him, now. Our little Pepe scrapped with a ferocious beast and came out alive. I just hope it doesn't turn into a habit.

August 17

Clara, the youngest, will have many adventures and achievements in her coming years. But forever and always, when she looks back on her life, she will have this: August 17, 2011, the day her dad took her to her first Major League Baseball Game.

The trip was really in honor of Olivia's 11th birthday, so she should get most of the press here. But it was Clara's first-ever MLB game, so that added to the specialness of the day.

Right over the top of Olivia's head there is grandpa, my dad. And my brother there on the other side of him. I got to figuring we've been going to Mariners' games for at least 3 decades now, so it was all the more poignant for them to be part of Olivia and Clara's day.

Here's Safeco Field on a sunny Seattle evening:

Really, for all the bad press Seattle gets about weather and such, there's no prettier place when the sun decides to come out. And almost no better place to enjoy it than sitting in the bleachers at the ball park.

Uncle Michael decided to buy the kids dessert.

Cotton Candy.

Dippin' Dots

As to the game. . .as I said, my dad and I have been doing this for 30+ years. And in all that time, the one certainty is the M's will lose more often than they win. And this was a normal night in that regard.

We showed up in time to kick a family out of our front-row seats (out in the left field bleachers) just before somebody sang O Canada (we were playing Toronto, and I think there were more Canadians there than Americans) and the National Anthem. Watched the first inning. Went to find hot dogs and fries. Came back and it was already 4-0 Toronto. And that was pretty much it. A little exciting later on when the M's loaded the bases with 1 out (the last guy got on when Brandon Morrow beaned Caspar Wells in the face with a fastball), but then Ichiro grounded into a double play, and that was it. Typical Mariners baseball.

But then again, a bad night at the ballpark is better than a good night sitting at home watching movies on netflix, so it was worth it. And to spend time with dad and Michael, and to celebrate Olivia's birthday and to take Clara to her first-ever professional baseball game, that was all wonderful.

hither and yon

Sometime back there in late June, my family left Lakebay for Colorado, and the Covenant's Feast and Annual Meeting. The end of that week, Olivia took off for Southern California and time with Nana and Tata, while Clara and I came back home.

A few weeks later Clara headed to Southern California to see family and friends. The next week I flew off to Chicago for four days of meetings and such. While I was gone, Olivia flew back to Seattle, where she stayed with Grandma and Grandpa for a couple days. Last week I flew home and picked up Olivia. She was back in her own room all of one day, because the next day I dropped her off at Cascades Camp in Yelm.

Monday I headed up into the mountains for 4 days of camping, fishing, train watching, and solitude. It was good. But this solitude thing is getting a little old.

So. . .tomorrow morning Olivia comes back from camp. Tomorrow evening Clara flies home. And tomorrow night, for the first time in over a month, our family will all be together, in our own home. And hopefully it will remain that way for a while.

It's been a week (and then some)

Sitting in the Oakland airport, waiting for our plane to Seattle. We flew down last Wednesday, and have been in California ever since.

During that time, we:
- enjoyed breakfast at Some Crust Bakery in beautiful downtown Claremont
- had dinner at the Bass Pro Shop out in Rancho Cucamonga (the setting was fun, the food not so much).
- drove up the coast to stunning Cambria. Sunshine, the California ocean, Santa Barbara and wine country and SLO and Morro Bay. . .it was all good for the soul.
- had breakfast with Dax and Anna, rich with talk about old times and all that God is doing in our lives today.
- performed a windy wedding on a bluff overlooking the Pacific, sharing a blessed day with Jason and Michelle as they became husband and wife
- reconnected with Erin at the reception (and met her new sweetie Phil (not Phil. R. Up., in case anybody's wondering))
- had brunch at the Madonna Inn in SLO.
- Drove past Azusa Pacific University, my alma mater.
- Spent a day at Disneyland with the kids. The girls had as much fun as possible, and I found myself thinking 'this is what it's supposed to be like, watching the fireworks from Main Street with your daughter on your shoulders.' I also got sunburned. And we got to spend the day with this kid, since he's the cousin of a friend of ours. He kept our kids entertained, which helped in those hour-long lines waiting for Autopia.
- Bugged Erin at Starbucks, where she didn't make us cry.
- Cooked up a carne asade feast for dinner with the family.
- Had breakfast (once more) at Some Crust.

And now we're heading home after a full week. It was a good week; we got lots of sunshine and some beach time, we shared some marvelous days with some quality people, we enjoyed the beach and the desert, we played and we rested, we had time with family and time with some old friends. And now, as we sit at the airport, Clara's wearing her pink Minnie Mouse ears and we're enjoying the last bit of sunshine before heading north again.

It was a very nice day

According to Douglas Adams, my age is now equivalent to the answer to life, the universe, and everything.



So it stands to be a good year.

And it got off to a nice start. Wrestling with the girls in bed is a good way to wake up. Then off to Marlene's Deli and lunch with my parents. And presents. The girls went off with grandma and grandpa, leaving me alone to play the rest of the day. So I did the most adult thing I could think of, and went to Seattle Center and watched the new Tron movie, in 3-D, at the Imax theater. Yes. Good decision. Good movie.

After the movie it was a stroll a couple blocks over to the Crow for dinner. I had the chicken wrapped in prosciutto. she had the fish. We sat at the chef's bar, a long bar facing the kitchen, and we enjoyed bantering with Steve and his crew all night. He even gave us a sample of the risotto. Heavenly.

About 7:45 I checked the current score of the Holiday Bowl, fully expecting to find UW behind by 3 touchdowns. Surprise. It was almost halftime, and they were up 10-7. So we paid out and hurried back to the car, stopped for some coffee on Capitol Hill, and then drove home, with the game on the radio. Seriously, this is the Huskies. They had to find a way to lose.

But no, a signature win, finalized just as we pulled into the driveway. What a way to end a birthday. Good times, all around. I am blessed in many ways.

Oh, and Susan - as to your presents, I'll cherish them, always. I think.

So, in the last day

The door of our bathroom closet fell off, with the help of a certain small child.

The alternator on the Jeep decided to stop working while I was driving home, in the rain, from Gig Harbor. When your alternator stops working, your windshield wipers tend to stop, as well. Did I mention I was driving home, in the rain?

The wind brought down a tree in our yard. Only it didn't come down. It's hanging up in another tree, making it much more difficult to take out safely.

At least I got to share a rich lunch with a wonderful group of fellow pastors. . .and a car ride to Aberdeen and back as well.

And the alternator breaking led to some time spent with Doug while fixing it. And the tree led to some time spent with Mike, who came to offer his professional opinion on the matter. And the bathroom door meant some time with Chuck, who's always a joy to have around. So all was not lost. Except for most of my plans for the past two days.

I suppose I should say something about Canada

A year ago, for pastor appreciation month, our church gave me a gift certificate to the Harrison Hot Springs Resort, up in the great white north of British Columbia, Canada. We finally found a couple free days to use that gift certificate last week, so with the kids safely at home watched over by their grandparents, we I hopped into the trusty Kia and took off for foreign lands.

Except for a lunch stop at a vegan coffee shop in Seattle's U-District. And another stop at REI in Bellingham to pick up some hiking boots. But, with those out of the way, we headed off to foreign lands.

Apparently, U2 had the same idea, and were playing in Vancouver the same night, so there was a little backup at the border. But let's just say we were thankful to cross at Sumas, rather than Blaine, and probably got across 30 minutes quicker.

Then, off through the fields and foothills of B.C., across the Fraser River, along foggy mountains dappled with the colors of autumn, and finally we arrived at the town of Harrison Hot Springs.

Lovely words to hear: "You've been upgraded to a room overlooking the garden."

A quick dinner in town and some TV watching, and a blissful night's sleep, then breakfast in the Lakeside Terrace - a delicious and nutritious breakfast buffet with everything from Eggs Benedict to Back Bacon to oatmeal to an assortment of fruits and sausages.

Then we hopped in the Kia and drove east to the town of Hope (fill in all the assorted jokes here, like "We were lost but then we found Hope," and "There's always Hope in Canada"). Turns out Hope is where the first Rambo movie was filmed. And they're still very proud of that fact. However, our attention was attuned to the Othello Tunnels, an abandoned railroad line turned hiking trail, complete with four tunnels and a series of bridges over a river crashing through the deep cut of a granite canyon. It was a lovely walk, the perfect crisp fall day, beautiful scenic vistas (there was snow falling in the mountains a few hundred feet above us), grottoes with overhanging mossy branches, the ground a blanket of fallen leaves. And the added interest of tunnels and trestles made for a wonderful jaunt, reminding us of days pre-children when we loved to roam the hills and vales near home.

Back to Hope to do a bit of shopping, then lunch at the homey Skinny's Cafe, and it was time to head back to Harrison. There were some hot springs awaiting.

The resort has a series of pools and hot tubs - a couple indoor, and a couple outdoor. We began in the hottest pool inside, but eventually made our way outside, where we sat in a Japanese-motifed hot pool, mist rising from the surface to blend with the gentle fall of rain, cold droplets dripping down from cedar branches overhead, the warmth of the water over our bodies offset by the cool air blowing into our faces. It was magical. . .until one of the other guests decided it would be a nice time for a smoke. Which basically ruined the idea of being out in fresh air. . .but we were thinking about dinner, anyway, so time to head in.

Dinner was at the Copper Room, a dining room reminiscent of swank dinner-and-dance clubs of the 1920s. They even have a dress code. The room was darkly lit, complete with a dance floor headed by a stage upon which the Jones Boys play 5 nights a week. Our food was fabulous (prime rib, oysters, a tomato salad, among other things), and the band was entertaining, playing a mix of hits from Glenn Miller all the way up to Michael Buble, with some Johnny Cash, Stevie Wonder, Barry Manilow, and Elvis thrown in for good measure. They were just cheesy enough to keep it fun, but talented enough to pull multiple couples onto the dance floor. In the room sat many couples celebrating anniversaries, a couple engaged that night, a couple married 5 days previously. Next to us sat 4 ladies from the Vancouver Theater crowd, friends for the last 40 some years. Dinner was kept to a leisurely pace, so we all had a chance to enjoy the music, the atmosphere, the dancing. The Dessert.

Back to the room to watch some TV, then another relaxing night's sleep, breakfast buffet at the Lakeside Terrace, and then it was time to check out and head home.

But first, a stop at Tim Horton's in Abbotsford, so I could get a cup of coffee and Karina could experience the joy that is Tim's.

They let us back into the U.S. without much hassle.

A stop in Fairhaven at a snooty little cheese shop gave us the sustenance we needed to tackle Chuckanut Drive, one of the more scenic highways in the state of Washington. At the south end we happened upon a buffalo farm, and stopped to buy some buffalo meat, as well as take some pictures of said buffalo. They didn't seem to mind.

To extend things a bit we took the ferry across from Edmonds to Kingston, then finally were back home to awaiting kids, who greeted us with warmth and affection and "where's my present!!!!!"

All in all, a good trip. And one more reason to be thankful for this wonderful church that gives us gifts like this. And a wonderful reminder that there is life apart from kids, after all.

Oh, and we discovered the Olympics are coming to B.C. in another couple months. Who knew?

One thing I like about my life

If you walked into the front room of our house, you would see, front and center against the wall, our piano. It's an old German piano, like none I've seen before. We once had an old, grizzled piano tuner come, a man who'd spent 50+ years tuning pianos, and he'd never seen one like it before. It's slightly out of tune again, but it plays, and it gets played pretty regularly.

If you turned around and headed to the 'formal' room, you'd find my trumpet sitting in there, fresh off of an evening's practice. I bought it (well, I think my parents mostly paid for it) almost 20 years ago, and it's seen some good days, and had some lonely days back when we had babies around the house. But it still plays, and more and more is getting played with regularity.

Next to the trumpet is my old mandolin, which was old when my father bought it in Thailand 45 years ago. It's not the best mandolin ever made, but I had it refurbished when we moved back to Washington, and it does the job. It's more of a diversion, but slowly I'm figuring my way around it, and it does get played every couple weeks in church, at camp, and on camping trips.

At the moment, underneath that mandolin case is Olivia's violin case. She started lessons this fall with the Peninsula Youth Orchestra. She's just starting out, Olivia is, but still, that violin is just waiting to be played.

If you looked around the corner, you'd find the old family autoharp, which once belonged to my grandfather's brother - "Uncle Art." I looked it up in a book once, and as near as I could tell, this model was made in the late 1930s. It still has the original strings and felts (I think) and so plays a little rough, but sometimes, when I'm tired of the piano, trumpet, and mandolin, I'll pull it out and strum through a couple songs.

Finally, sometimes in my office and sometimes in the house you'd find my guitar, a Fender acoustic I purchased shortly after moving up from California. Yes, the old beater guitar I bought in California is also around someplace, but the Fender is a nice upgrade and fun to play. I'm no great guitarist, mind you, but there are those days when I need to sit down and play a little John Denver, and out comes the guitar.

In other words, our house is full of music and musical instruments. I don't remember ever making a decision to have all these instruments; they just came over the years, and I've had fun getting to know them all. There is a feeling of fulfillment to realize the impact music has had on our life and our household, and a feeling of hope that our girls are being raised surrounded by so much musical offering. In the end, I'd much rather Olivia practice her violin than practice the latest video game.

So, not to toot my own horn (aargh. . .); just to say it makes me happy to share my house with so many instruments, to wander around and pick one of them up and enjoy them for 10 minutes or a couple hours, or even Clara bang on the piano, knowing that someday it will be 'real' music. Just one thing I like about my life.

Fun at the Fair

We went to the opening day of the 2009 Puyallup Fair yesterday. On opening day, admission is free if you get there before noon. Considering it costs a small fortune to park, go on rides, buy some food, and hydrate yourself. . .getting in free is a nice perk. And so we went.

Things got off to an ominous start when we  witnessed a large black lab fall out of a pickup heading our way on the KP Highway, rolling into the ditch and bounding back up into traffic, looking stunned and confused.

We should have recognized the next warning sign as we passed the scene of a rollover accident on the 512, about 3 miles from the fair. They only got worse when the highway turned north and we first caught sight of the mile-long backup getting off the freeway.

But we fought our way through, got to the parking lot, and made it inside well before noon. We set off to find my parents, and located them easily enough, standing in the shade of a tree talking to our Lakebay friends Harvey and Carla Roberts.

First item of business: lunch. Well, that was ours. The kids thought rides should come first. And they showed it by pouting through lunch. But I enjoyed my BBQ chicken sandwich (and 1/2 of Clara's, too) very much.

Then, to keep the kids happy, off to the rides. The shortest way was cutting through one of the exhibit halls. . .or so we thought, until we entered and found 10,000 other people crowding the aisles, enthralled by towels and veggie choppers and electrostatically charged bracelets and emu-oil lotion. Slogging our way through that crowd I did happen to run into the KP's most famous physician, Dr. Roes, and we had a quick chat before losing our respective families.

Thankfully, the kids were distracted by the honeybee display, and the Grange displays, and finally the hobby hall with its collections of My Little Petshop and Obama memorabilia.

But then, off to the rides. (On the way we ran into Harvey and Carla again).

Olivia and I got on the Mighty Mouse (video to be posted later). Clara and Olivia ran through a fun house. And then we decided to see the draft horse display.

Apparently, 10,000 other people also decided to see the draft horse demonstration. Including Lakebay's own Howard and Diane Johnson, we walked past our seating area whilst searching for empty seats of their own.

The draft horses were good. Unfortunately, 1/2 way through the show, we discovered that Olivia was running a high fever. So that about ended the day.

Except we'd promised Clara one more ride, so off to Kiddie-land we went. Clara chose the motorcycle ride, declaring "when I grow up, I'm going to be a motorcycle girl!"

The guy running the ride was pretty methodical. So the wait was interminable. But finally we got her on and situated. And the ride was about to start. . .when the kid behind her decided to open his bladder and pee all over his motorcycle. And since he was 3 feet in the air, it made a very sickeningly audible dribbling sound as it plummeted to the metal framing below. The horrified mother got him off, and the ride was about to start. . .when kid #2 had a meltdown, and his mother also had to get him off. At which point the ride operator decided to let another kid on, a kid whose mother proceeded to almost put him back on the pee-covered motorcycel. . .right up until all of us watchers shouted at her that that wouldn't be a good idea.

Finally. . .the motorcycle ride progressed, and Olivia decided she was going to throw up. Mom and Olivia ran off in search of a restroom, and when the ride ended, I took Clara to get her cotton candy. My poor parents just had to tag along through all the commotion.

So, cotton candy in hand, sick child in tow, we headed toward the exit, with one final stop in mind: the scone stand. Apparently, 10,000 other people also wanted scones, and the scone stand workers felt they needed to have personal conversations with each customer, because it took forever to get said scones. . .and all the while poor Olivia was suffering in Clara's stroller.

But we got the scones, we got on the road (by now Clara was wailing because she also wanted a scone, even though she'd chosen cotton candy instead. . .), and, eventually, we got home.

Oh. . .and about 15 minutes before getting home, Olivia woke up in her back seat and said "Hey - I feel better!" And sure enough, the fever was gone, her spirit was back to its perky self, and all was well with the world.

We even got to stop by a friend's farm on the way home and milk some goats and collect some eggs, so the "country fair" feel carried on to the end.

I was baptized last night

After working out for an hour, I took Clara and Olivia swimming in the pool at the YMCA. We'd been in the pool about 30 minutes when it happened.

Clara: "Daddy, come over here. We'll do that thing with God and the person."
Me: "Um, what?"
Clara: "Come here!"

We swam to the edge of the pool.

Clara: "Now sit down here. I'll be God and you be the person."

So I sat, and she grabbed my head. And said "Now I'm God and you're that person." At which point she pushed my head underwater. Going over backwards, just like we always do in a 'real' baptism. Then she pulled me up and that was that. Olivia witnessed the whole thing. She told Clara, with some assurance, "Clara, it's called baptism."

So, all cuteness aside, my question is, How did she know it's God who is the agent in baptism, and not the pastor?

Growing Up

Yesterday afternoon we drove over to Cascades Camp and dropped off Olivia for her first ever week at camp. She's doing the program at Brightwood Station - Cascades' version of a train camp. It was a quick drop-off; we signed her in, loaded her luggage on the luggage cart, took her up to Brightwood and met her counselor, and then we walked away with her sitting down to the opening camp activities.

Our Turlockian-friend Chelsea, and her boyfriend, are up visiting, so we showed them around Cascades. It was a beautiful afternoon, with clear views of Mt. Rainier looming overhead and a calm sheen upon the lake. Cascades truly is a special place - one of the premier camps in the Evangelical Covenant Church. And we're trusting Olivia will have an incredible week over there.

This morning we ran Clara and a friend up to the Civic Center for the first day of WayPoint Church's VBS. When I picked them up at noon they were full of great stories and new songs, so it appears they had a great time.

So Olivia's at summer camp, Clara's at VBS, Chelsea's got a boyfriend. . .everybody's growing up. And all moving in the right direction, as well.

Road Trip Redux

One of the things that struck me on our trip is the amazing diversity of this state of Washington. From the lush Puget Sound lowlands wherein we live, up to the reaching Alpine heights rich in forest and granite wall, to the fertile prairies and the deep, barren coulees of eastern Washington; we really have three states in one.

We also experienced a rich diversity of social structure. On the one hand, we left world-class Seattle and Tacoma, and spent time in Spokane, a grand city in its own right. On the other, we were able to spend three days about as far off the grid as you can get, up in the Yaak.

So perhaps variety was the theme of this vacation.

And, yes, it was a good trip, and we feel relaxed and refreshed, and, no, I'm not ready to get back to work yet.

Blackout Dates

This space to remain silent 7/6-16. Heading for the hills and some swimming, hiking, camping, family-visiting, and touristing. Look for a much more refreshed Dan back in a couple weeks.

More old friends

Last weekend, our friend/former youth group member Ken came over for some free food and family fun. He's now in the army, based over at Ft. Lewis, so it wasn't much trouble to make the jaunt over for a night and 2 partial days. Although I made the mistake of playing some video games with him. And didn't win one. Don't play shooter games with guys in the army, I guess.

Today our former youth group member/friend Betsy flew up from California; the plan is to do the Seattle Tour tomorrow, seeing if we can connect with other former youth group members/friends Jake, Anya, and Leah along the way. It's supposed to rain all day, but I guess that's part of the Seattle experience. Anyway, it's always nice to reconnect with people who were part of your history and carry on with those friendships. Plus we're making Chex Mix to celebrate, so woohoo! It's all good.

Old friends

Way, way back in time, there was a group of 6 or 7 of us who grew up in church together. Our dads all served on the elder board, our moms all taught Sunday School. When we were kids we ran around in the parking lot after church; when we got older we became the youth group; as teens we went backpacking together and had New Year's Parties together and tortured our Sunday School teachers together. But then, as happens, we all went off to college and lost touch with each other.

Tomorrow I'm going on a picnic with one of those old friends, one I haven't seen in, what, 15 years? And now she's married and has kids, I'm married and have kids, so our kids can play together while all us adults do adult things like talking. Her husband's a pastor, and I'm a pastor, so we can talk about pastor-stuff. And the weather is supposed to be nice, so we're all looking forward to a blessed Fall afternoon of fun and talking about old times.

Last Wednesday evening, I had a phone conversation with my old roommate, who I lived with in Southern California 12 years ago. We hadn't talked in probably 6 years, haven't seen each other since 1997, so it was good to catch up and hear about life's twists and journeys.

When I left California, it was to move into a new ministry position in Oregon. Because I'd been forced out of my previous one. By a pastor who I'd fit into the category of "not very nice people." Some of you know the story: he was a habitual liar, a control freak, he plagiarized sermons, he was more interested in comfort and glory and protecting his position than in serving and shepherding and "being an example to God's flock." This man hurt a lot of people (including me) pretty badly.

So in the course of the conversation, my ex-roommate mentioned that this particular pastor had died a few years ago. And his wife had died a year or so before that.

And the truth is. . .I felt nothing but sadness. For which I praise God today. Because I know my thoughts toward this man were not exactly holy and righteous in the months and years following my ignominious firing. But God has been good to us, teaching me about forgiveness, helping me find good counsel, and, ultimately, teaching me to be grateful for all I have today. The fact is, I'm in a wonderful church, have an amazing wife and family; I love my life today. I have no regrets. I've learned the truth of Genesis 50:20 - "What you meant for evil, God meant for good." And so I can honestly say I take no pleasure in hearing of this man's death.

Only sadness remains. Sadness for a ministry he destroyed, sadness for the kids in our youth ministry who abandoned the church because of his actions, and sadness that, so far as I know, he never took the chance to seek redemption and reconciliation with those he had hurt. He was a smart man, had a good sense of humor, understood theology. . .he would have made a great pastor. And I'm sad he ended up living a different life than the one he was called to. I'm sad for the waste.

I suppose part of me always hoped we'd have a chance to reconcile someday; it would have been nice to redeem, in some small way, the damage he caused in my life. There was always that small part of me that wished for the day he would call and say "I realize now what I've done." Not for my own vindication, but for the good of the Kingdom of God and the victory of Christ over sin. Now that's all in God's hands, as it always has been anyway. Blessed be the name of the Lord.