Camp Meeting

June 13-16, Jack, Tina, and I helped out at the Bozeman Camp Meeting, for the early reader age group. Such cuteness! We had a wonderful time, but with very little time to relax or sleep. Since we didn't really have time to cook either, it's fortunate that we were able to eat in the lovely and luscious cafeteria. 

With Clancy along, it was a little crowded in the pickup, but we managed somehow.

Having gotten in too late for supper that first night, Jack BBQ'd us some Boca Burgers. I snuck up on him for a picture, but my focus beam alerted him that mischief was afoot. It had trouble focusing, and it took him several nanoseconds to get tired of the random flashing. Finally he turned to me, exasperated. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING???" Click. Now a timeless moment forever and always.

Our first night of camping at camp meeting, it had rained with extreme vigor, and the wind blew away the awning of a neighboring RV. The full-size air mattress I brought along was woefully inadequate for the Princess and the Pea, as we affectionately refer to Jack on camping trips. The next morning, I went and got a new double-thick queen-sized mattress. Jack went out and got a new double-wide and double-tall tent, with double compartments, thus earning himself the new nickname of King Solomon as he sat enthroned in his pavilion.

Our theme was Truth Seekers, showing how the Bible and archaeology can build our faith in the Bible. We had stories, photos of artifacts, nature nuggets, games, activities, and even science experiments. One of our quaint little experiments involved licopodium powder, but we'll get to that in another post.

I had written a series of skits about the creation/evolution question, starring who else but the hapless children! We had to be a bit flexible, as it turned out, since one afternoon 3 of our 4 stars got stuck at Old Faithful. On the bright side, they got to watch it erupt more times in one day than most people get to see in a lifetime. I assure you, they felt very privileged.

The original plan was for us to leave directly after camp meeting on a trip to southern CA. God gently directed us to wait, and it was well that we did, if for no other reason than we grownups could scarcely stand upright, and the kids were staggering zombies. Had we not already promised the kids that we would camp somewhere after camp meeting, we would have headed for home, posthaste. Since we promised, we went, knuckles dragging on the ground. 

Exhaustion notwithstanding, our minds were already crowding with ideas for next year.

Spring at Last

For all that winter almost didn't come this year, spring was just as forgetful. It was well into June before the spring flowers fully came into their own. The following examples all belonged to Mom. I daresay she's the only one in Westby with a hibiscus and a plumeria.

Starting with Skjermo

Where to start? Where to start? The longest-ago blog that I remember needing to write, was when we joined Tina for a few hours as she camped out at Lake Skjermo. There may be more, but I fear that it’s gone forever, unless I turn up additional photographic evidence to jar my memory. Don’t worry, some things, like taking the kids to smokejumper training, would be impossible to forget, even if I wanted to.

Thus I shall do the best I can to recreate the last several months, starting with the Skjermo Picnic, back on May 12.

It was an enjoyable day at the lake, quiet except around us. Tina had a fire going to cook our veggie weenies, and what camping trip would be complete without S’mores?

For any of you who haven’t already become acquainted with this traditional camping treat, you take a graham cracker, chocolate bar, and marshmallow, and heat them up till the chocolate and marshmallow are all melted into a graham cracker sandwich. The tidiest way is to wrap the concoction in foil and set it near the fire to warm, but the more adventurous balance it carefully on weenie roaster sticks.

With no foil along, we went with the adventurous method.

Since I despise marshmallows, my S’more consisted only of chocolate and graham cracker. I called it a S’less. Then the weenie stick tilted ever so slightly, the S’less S’lid into the fire, and suddenly I had a S’none.

We stayed till dark before leaving Tina there in her tan metal tent, abruptly surrounded with silence.

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil,
Smell No Evil

Venus Transit

It's not exactly NASA. My special technique consists of one hand holding a rectangular welding helmet insert, removed from the helmet, over a round zoom lens, and trying not to blind myself having it slip off the edge. In the meantime, the other hand zooms out the lens again after I bumped it, refocuses the picture after I bumped that, too, and reaches across to push the button. 

All the suffering and trial was worthwhile, since I got a slightly blurred but recognizable image of the only time Venus will cross the sun in my lifetime on earth. 

The last pair of transits was back in 1874 and 1882. The next pair of transits begins in December of 2117. I expect to watch it from my own seat near the throne of God. 

See you there!

 

Venus Sunset

God Bless America!

It was our privilege today to be a part of the school Memorial Day program, honoring the veterans who have fought for our country for more than 200 years. I want to say a big thank you to all who have served.

THANK YOU!


Mom, Tina, Tiggy, and I sang a trio arrangement of God bless America. That's not a typo; four of us sang a trio. We had to nearly disassemble the gymnasium after Mom's wireless mike wouldn't work. It made me wish I had some sort of poetry reading or something to pass the time  Now that I mention it, I could have, thanks to Mr. Unterseher, my high school English teacher.


With apologies to the poet, Ralph Waldo Emerson, for any smudging of my memory brought about by the preceding 26 years.


By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.


The foe long since in silence slept,
Alike, the conqueror silent sleeps,
And time the ruined bridge has swept,
Down the dark stream that seaward creeps.


Oh, spirit that made those heroes dare,
To die and leave their children free,
Bid time and nature gently spare,
This shaft we raise to them, and thee.

It's a Long Way

Tipperary....Taco Bell.....not much difference. They're both a long, long way away. They both have food. But only one has had a WWI song written about it. That's not the one I mean.

This last weekend was State Music Festival. Sadly, Damon was disqualified by his grades. He wasn't the only one, but that was cold comfort to him as he stayed home and the rest of the group drove off into the sunset. (If we're going to be real technical, it wasn't actually sunset or sunrise, but kind of mid-morningish. But that just doesn't have the same poetic ring to it.)

Mrs. G drove one school vehicle, and I drove the other. No giant buses this time - a zippy little van for me, and a sleek SUV for her. She stopped very often for fuel, no doubt wanting to avoid a repeat of two years ago, when she accidentally ran out of gas on the way down. Thanks to the miracle of modern technology, nearly everyone in Westby knew what had happened before the van had coasted to a full stop beside the road.

Everyone performed wonderfully, and our town was justifiably proud of each of the students who played or sang. The highlight for me was Chad's performance (see Bittersweet if you haven't already met him), attended by his dad and long-term girlfriend. He was SO EXCITED to be able to go to the State Music Festival. Witnessing his joy during the whole trip was the kind of beautiful thing I usually only get to watch on strangers' inspiring Youtube videos. 

Chad in Billings

All too soon it was time to head home. Damon and Tiggy, time to start practicing for next year if you want to see the inside of a Taco Bell!

Until the next adventure,

Noni Beth