Popsicles, coordination, jumping to conclusions

Yesterday, for a treat in Children’s Church, Mama took freeze pops; the popsicles in plastic tubes. The kids really love those, but we had not given them as a treat in this church before. We had the little ones take their chairs outside – no small feat for some of them – and we sat down to enjoy the snack. What we did not know is that it was 102 degrees outside.


I have never seen a popsicle melt so fast. The children kept pace with the thawing and not one of them spilled a drop of the liquid on their church clothes, but it was over very quickly. After only ten or so minutes of play we had to retreat to the air conditioning. It put me in mind of those who may be enduring this heat in other parts of the US due to flooding, fires or tornados; only they may not have anywhere to go. For the sake of our little ones, I’m glad we did.

With this trip to Florida we will take what I hope will be the final load of Maggie’s stuff to be stored at Cori and Nate’s pending her marriage to Aaron. Part of the reason for our last quick trip over to Milton was to take the biggest load of her things since we would not have had sufficient space to do all that was required in this trip. With Chase at camp in New Jersey, only Maggie and Victoria are going with Mama and me so we will load up again to make the transfer of goods for safe keeping until - hopefully – September. It is at times like these that we miss our big van which, by the way, is still going strong in West Virginia.

It turns out we might not be any better rested for this trip than we were for the one we just got back from. Mama and the girls will have to start getting up at 5:30 a.m. to get the boys from their father since he has to be at work at 6 a.m. every morning. That starts tomorrow. It will only be for two days this time – since we leave on Thursday morning – but will be a permanent arrangement when we get back.

The pastor told us yesterday of a famous photographer that was flown into an area to take pictures of the heroic efforts of the fire fighters battling an enormous wildfire. Upon arriving at the scene the photographer realized the thick smoke in the area would hinder any efforts to get good pictures. He suggested to the Incident Commander that he rent a plane and concentrate on aerial photos of the efforts.

Arrangements were made and the photographer was hurried to a small airport nearby where he found a plane idling on the runway, ready for take off. He grabbed his gear and hopped into the planes passenger seat and told the pilot to take off.

Once airborne, he began to give the pilot instructions. “I want you to get me as low as possible to the active fire line. We should make three or four passes so I can get the pictures I need.” With some hesitation the pilot asked, “Why would you want me to do that?” “I am a photographer. Photographer’s take pictures. That’s why I am here.” He answered in a slightly condescending manner.

Stammering, the man in the pilot’s seat asked, “You mean you’re not the flight instructor?”