• The Eve of March

    Where did March go? It was a most kind month here in the ‘Burgh. No bud-killing frosts ensued. The forsythia are blooming, and the iris leaves are a foot tall.

    Just before the dawn of April, it seems fitting that we saw a magnificent sunset out our back windows. I love our view for an urban home! L saw the sky first and came to get us. Drew has much better pictures with his much better camera on Facebook, but my little cell phone ones are okey schmokey.

    G’night, March!

    ||||||  lynardlynard

  • Messy Pie

    Why is it that I always make a mess when I am trying to do something important? This pie was for the dessert auction at church to raise money to send kids to camp.

    I merely tapped the oreo crust a bit to get some white crumbs off the top and BOOM it busted into pieces all over my kitchen counter.

    My mother taught me to serve my mistakes, so I shoved the oreos back there the best I could and stuck the cheesecake mixture and blueberries and syrup on top. It won’t stick together when served, but it should taste yummy.

    Thankfully, this wasn’t the only pie I sent to the auction. I managed to keep the crust of the chocolate chip cheesecake intact. Yay, Lynard!

    ||||||  lynard

  • Finding Myself on Someone’s Blog

    Kunio is a friend from Japan who is attending local Seminary. I was checking out his blog where he has some pics of Levi’s concert last night—a lot of which is in Japanese. And I found some pictures that he took when he ate at our house a couple weeks ago. I had no idea that he was snapping pictures.

    |||||| lynard

  • I Got a Mansion Just Over the Hilltop

    Two miles from paved-road sanity, is a mansion that overlooks a valley in Pennsylvania that made its money from oil. Small oil wells still exist in the Franklin and Oil City area.

    Most people know the mansion as the Sibley mansion, built by Joseph Sibley in 1913. Joseph made his money in oil and in the 1890′s was elected to the House of Representatives. Standard Oil’s John D. Rockefeller and President McKinley were both his friends, and McKinley was assassinated when riding in Sibley’s private rail car. Sibley called his mansion River Ridge.

    Ironically, the gorgeous estate with its vast orchards and experimental farming became the site of his own imprisonment when Sibley was convicted of unethical business practices.

    Today, the mansion is owned by a Christian ministry who rents it out for retreats and pastoral types seeking refreshment. The rates are very reasonable. My understanding is that the contact person is Rich Tygert, P.O. Box 311 Franklin, PA 16323.

    The youth in our presbytery attend a Sprinter retreat on the grounds once each spring. This weekend, L attended, and I borrowed some pix from his friends’ Facebook and another source. LOL

    ||||||  lynard

  • This Is Love

    Since November, I have been blessed by a Bible study with women in my community. Right now, we are studying 1 John: the book of love.

    Our goal is to get better at studying the Bible on our own. We are using the ABCD study method: analysis, basic verse, commitment, difficulties.

    I am learning new things and have been strengthened in my faith. God is good.

    Today we had Cindy, Patricia, Autumn, Christine, and baby Ben.

    “This is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the payment for our sins.” —1 John 4:10

    ||||||  lynard

  • Gun on the Sidewalk

    This gun is not a toy. Sunday morning, D and I saw a young guy hanging out the passenger window of a careening vehicle, chucking stuff in the bushes of a few hilly front yards. Then, as he popped his body back in the car, a police cruiser appeared and chased them toward the city.

    We stopped to see what was so important to throw out of the vehicle and saw this first. We stood guard over the lovely find until the cops came. I took this cell phone pic from our car.

    Later, during church, it occurred to both of us that we were so concerned about the gun we forgot to tell anyone we had seen the guy make more than one “heave ho” onto the hillside. D called the police again, and by the end of the service, a county homicide detective had arrived to interview us and go to the site. It seems a fairly serious crime had been committed in another part of the city and when the “actors” (as he called them) were fleeing the scene, they weaved their way through our blessed neighborhood. The already retrieved weapon had been visually ID’d by one victim while we were in church. The car and driver had been caught, too, but they were interested to hear that there had been another passenger. He, apparently, wasn’t in the vehicle when the driver was apprehended.

    He called a K-9 unit, and it appears that they found another similar item or so.

    D had considered walking to church that morning. He was leading worship and needed to do some preparation. If he had walked, he either would have been on the sidewalk while the guys were throwing stuff OR they wouldn’t have thrown it OR, if the timing was off, the guns would’ve sat there for some kids to find.

    Instead, some justice was done, and I got to look down the barrel of revolver (laying on cold concrete).

    Yeah, nothing ever happens on my block.

    ||||||  lynard

  • Deere City

    Coming out of McDonald’s drive-through, Drew and I saw it: a parade of John Deeres, dozens and dozens, traversing my urban space via the train tracks above. Surreal, isn’t it? I wish I had had a better camera with me!

    ||||||  lynard

  • Teenagers

    I like having teens. It requires work just like the toddler phase or the grade schoolers phase, but I prefer it. Maybe that is because I am supposed to be here now. I loved my babies. I loved my toddlers even more. But now, I have these people living with me. They are not mine, really,  but yet I feel a special affinity. 

    A while back, I caught this moment of my daughter’s friend getting her hair braided by her and K’s friend, Alex, in our livingroom. Beka has the thickest hair! I don’t remember any guys offering to braid MY hair when I was 16.

    ||||||  lynard

  • The Path Less Traveled

    The sky was full of precipitation this week. Some made our trees like fine lace. Some made the city seem quiet and clean. Some made walkways slick. This is the path that a friend and I take regularly to walk through a city park. The crusty ice provided no traction under my old sneakers!

    ||||||  lynard