Wednesday, June 20, 2007

A Different Tag

anotherblogonthefire tagged me. 

1 Pick up a book that is near to you

2 Go to page twelve in the book

3 Read the first two sentences and post it on your blog

4 Also post the book title and the name of the author

5 Tag 3 other People : )


  1. Ok, I did it.

  2. Page 12, here I come.

  3. I chose these two groups for slightly different reasons, of course.  If you are disillusioned, for instance, I invite you to join me in exploring the experiences that jaded you toward the church.

  4. Book Title, Dear Church Letters from a Disillusioned Generation, Author Sarah Cunningham

  5. I will get to it.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Acts 3 for homeschool dads

Did you ever read Acts chapter 3?  I read it the other day and for some reason homeschooling was on my mind.  I got to thinking about my role in homeschooling.  I got to thinking about being a dad in general.  I got to thinking about the word of God.  I got to thinking about my role from the Father.  This was a lot of thinking for me.  Let me tell you what I came up with.

 “There was a child sitting in the doorway in a home called “My Own.”  This child sat at the doorway daily waiting, and sometimes begging for something he did not have.  On this particular day a man walked through the door.  Seeing the child he looked to him.  The child spoke to him and told him how he was weary from Algebraic equations and grammar and was in desperate need of something.  The child then commenced in begging to the man.

 The man, seeing the child’s need, told him this:

“Algebra and Grammar, have I none, but what I have as your father and your priest in the house I give you.  In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk in your faith.”

 The two walked in together, sat down and read from the word.  They began praising the Lord together.  They even brought Mom in to praise with them.  The parents began to give the child an outward vision to reach the lost and care for the needy.  They faced trials together and overcame them by the power of Jesus.

 As this was going on, the man and his son went to a men’s meeting.  The men of the church had not seen a thing like this before.  This was not right.  The man was allowed to enter, but they recognized the floppy haired teenager as the one who used to beg.  He did not fit the mold of the men’s ministry.  They began to wonder at this thing. 

 The man, seeing the confusion, answered the men in the meeting.  Men of the church, why do you stare at us as though we are breaking some great rule?  Do you not know the words regarding fathers and sons?  Do you not know that we are called of God to train them up, know them, know their giftings and strengths and help them to use them for the kingdom?  Do you not know that it is our role as fathers to be priests of the home, and to give our children an outward vision to reach the lost and care for the needy as Jesus did?  Why do you marvel at the fact that I have brought my son into this room to get input from the men of the church?

The men of the church were perplexed over this word.  So the man and his son left the meeting, went over to the food pantry, grabbed some of the food that had been sitting there and went out to homes.  Soon they had a food ministry reaching over two hundred families a month and many were added to the kingdom because of that act.”

Friday, June 8, 2007

What is on the top of my fridge???

If any of you have read my wife’s blog, you may know approximately one year ago she started out on a six week project to mummify chickens.  At first, I was a little apprehensive about the idea, thinking to myself it was kinda weird, but oh well, I am kinda weirder anyway.  Well, the first days were exciting.  The preparation of buying the chickens and the salt and stuff, the watching of Abbott and Costello movies where they meet the mummy, the actual learning of the process of mummification all added up to what may be an exciting project.  I could help out and keep a photo journal of the events.  This might not be a bad deal after all. 


Well, day one came and the process of mummification began.  It was interesting.  The kids were into it as they began cleaning the chickens.  The chickens were very quiet and did just what they were supposed to do.  Then it happened….   “Where do we put them?” was the question.  Mom decided they would do best up on top of the refrigerator.  Down go my pretzels and chips and up go the drying chickens.

This was okay at first.  The chickens seemed to like being out of the fridge and not in the oven.  The kids would check on them from time to time.  I guess everything was fine until we had our first guests over in a while.   “What is that up on top of your fridge, Rob?” asked my buddy.  “Ummmmm, uh chicken mummies” was my reply.  I could tell there was something in the air, but my wife was able to talk about the great learning experience it had been to start this project and they had an excellent conversation as he is a Jr. High teacher.  I sat there, though, knowing this was going to be a looooonnnng project.

 Well, the chickens kept pretty quiet until one day in March.  I had risen early to check my email and have a cup of coffee in peace.  There I sat at the kitchen table alone in my thought, until a little wadded up piece of paper hit me in the head.  I saw no one nearby so I was very perplexed.  I opened the paper and read it.  Here is what it said:

“Dude, this project is only supposed to take like two months from start to finish and we have been sitting up here for like four.  Since you are just sitting up there and we are all stuck in these bags, can you grab us a cup of your Starbucks?



The featherless union”


I knew at that moment that I was not alone.  I knew at that moment that I was being watched, and that dark forces were at work in my home.  I knew at that moment that there was a problem on top of my fridge.

 Well, after a few days like this I just began making more coffee and leaving a cup on the fridge and getting it down without the wife and kids seeing what was going on.  Things were going along fine.  I would on occasion get a note asking for more cream or sugar in the next cup, but nothing out of the ordinary.  It seemed the featherless union and I were going to get along like this ok.  Then, I got the first demand:

“Ok, you gotta tell your wife to step this up a bit.  We were supposed to be gone months ago.  If we are gonna sit up here in salt forever, you have to come up with a little entertainment.  Here is what we want:


The Featherless Union

I thought these were odd requests.  What were they going to do with all of those things?  How was I going to get them?  I couldn’t tell the wife what was going on, so I had to proceed with caution.  Fortunately, these items were easy to slip into the house unnoticed as we have many going in and out on a regular basis. 

Well, things started to get a little weird around here in the evenings.  First, our new dog, Faith couldn’t sleep.  She would start barking over nothing and then start a small commotion.  Nathan finally started putting her in the crate at night if she kept him awake.  The problem was that she was now closer to the action.  This didn’t do too well.  None of us were able to get sleep.

Then around April, things got worse.  The Union, as they like to call themselves, started pacing the halls at night.  We would hear things, and they would wake us up.  Andrea would groggily ask me if I heard mice, but I was not able to confirm what I knew to be going on.  The chickens were playing Xbox, running the halls, knocking on doors and purposely waking the puppy.

 I woke early one morning to meet with the union over a cup of coffee. Instead of putting the coffee on the fridge I sat the extra cup right across from me at the table.  Four salty bags began to make their descent from the fridge to the table to join me.  Four bags popped open and four straws slid out.  I could barely make out the shapes of their wings moving in the bags to get ready for their morning coffee.  We sat for a few minutes in silence.  I am not sure any of us knew what to do next.  Eventually, I took the sip that gave me the courage to speak.

“Ok guys, I can tell you are frustrated.”

 “Frustrated, we can hardly breathe.  We are sitting up here sweating our feathers off in bags of salt.  Don’t you know we would have been much happier if you cooked us on your Primo Grill?”

 “Yeah” piped in another one, I believe it was Cluckenhamen.  “This is really getting old.  We expected to do something noble, and sitting in salt is not it.”

 “What do you want me to do?”

 “We are not sure.  Can you come and at least hang out with us at night?  It will help pass the time, and give us some meaning for our existence.”

 “Well, I need my sleep.”

 “We will get worse if you don’t.”



Things went along fine for the next few weeks, but my wife noticed I was getting tired.  “You are sleeping in a lot, honey.  I am afraid because you have been late for work.”

“I will try to get up earlier.”

Finally, I ran out of grace for this and began sleeping normal hours again.  Fortunately for me this was good timing because my wife and kids finally checked the chickens and found they were ready to be mummified.  That was in early May.  The kids wrapped them up and made a little video.

Now I noticed four boxes with mummified chickens inside sitting on top of my fridge.  Things went along fine, but I made a critical mistake.  I threw out all the toys I bought them over the last year.  It was not days before they were up at night making mischief.  They have riled up the little dog nightly and now they have gotten to our older dog, Daisy.  She is up nightly, whining at the top of her lungs.  I know the cause, but until now have not been able to speak about it.

Last night Daisy had to sleep with us.  She was too scared at night anymore.  Then it happened…  I heard the sound of four small peg-legged pirates grabbing her and taking her into the family room.  This was followed by a spit wad hitting me in the eye.  I looked up and saw four tiny figures waddling out of my room with the dog.

I wiped the sleep form my eyes and followed them into the family room.  They asked me to sit down quietly as they had something on their minds. 

“Rob, you have been good to us, but you gotta understand something.  We are chickens.  We never signed up for this.  We were raised in a farm to produce eggs and become dinner.  We know this.  We never wanted anything else.  These jewels are not us.  The closest thing to what we wanted was when the kids put salt and spices on us.”

“Please look at us.  Jewels and bandaids don’t belong on chickens.  Now look at the fridge.  What do you see?”

“I see a fridge that needs some food???”  Said I, unsure of what they were getting at, and still half asleep.

“No, look at those four boxes.  Look at that lonely space.  That is not a fridge to us, it is a prison. We don’t want to cause you any trouble, but we may be forced to take drastic measures.  Now, if you don’t want to have “Why did the chicken cross the road” jokes painted on your hallway walls, or see rubber chickens hanging from your rearview mirrors, please ask your wife to end this experiment!!!”

I assured the chickens I would do all that is in my power to help them.

Honey, can we end the experiment now, it has been a long time and the chickens are tired…

Why Being Overweight is Expensive

I have been overweight for the last few years.  I am not going to get into how or why it happened, but I am now faced with some more serious garbage because of it, and must deal with it.  I don't want to get into that either.  Man, this post is getting depressing and it was intended to be funny......

Anywho, being overweight, I have noticed a lot of things that are costly. 

1. They don't have my sizes at Steve and Barry's.  Come on, they don't even have a Steve and Barry's Plus!  What's up with that?  The closest I can come is Casual Male XL.  Like what's wrong with this picture, I gotta pay 34 bucks for a pair of cargo pants there when I have to pay 9 at Steve and Barry's?  Give me a stinkin break, I am not causing a shortage of fabric in the world!

2. Belts.  Another thing you have to go to a tall and fat store for.  Another thing you pay through the nose for, too!  What, does it take two cows to make my belts?  Are they lined with steel reinforcement?

3. Vehicles.  Yeah, that's right.  I can't fit in one of those econo gas things.  NOOOOO, give the fat guy a gas guzzler.  Why are cars engineered to be more economic also engineered for people under 5' tall and 2' wide?

4. Mountain bikes.  My passion.  I was sitting outside yesterday putting on new tires and I started thinking.  I have never worn out a set of tire treads, but I wear out the sidewalls.  Get a fat guy going forty around a corner and the tires want to peel off the rims sideways. So, lets see, that has been about 200 in rubber in the last three years.  Ridiculous!  But, I can run downhill tires at 50 bucks a piece and also add 10 pounds to my bike, thus making me slower and more tired and unable to ride and lose my desire to exercise....

4a. Not to mention as I am changing tires I notice I blew out another spoke.  That makes ten spokes since I got this bike.  Ok, go back to 4.  Buy new DH rims that ill hold my fat carcass and then add another 5 pounds to the bike thus......

5. Discounts at the butcher.  But, "Rob, you are saving money", you say.  WRONG.  The butcher sees a fat guy coming in for a piece of meat to grill and he discounts it, knowing the fat guy will buy half a cow if the price is better, thus making him even fatter!

Well, I have to stop my rant.  I need to get ready for work.

Next post I will tell you what is on top of my fridge...