Bela's first letter

Our dog got a letter today.

It was the first letter he ever received and he's 12 years old (84 in human years though I think I heard they changed the 7 year thing).

Bern has four letters and starts with B, so when I glanced at it I thought it must be for her. Then I looked again and it was 'Bela'!

He's gotten post cards from the vet telling him he is due some shot--but this was a letter in an envelope. First one ever for him.

It was from another dog. A dog of a politician.

Politician dogs must be smarter than other dogs because it was from a word processor. Bela can't spell much less type.

I thought it was a little (not much) whimsical. Bern, who hates politicians thought it was cheesy and dumb, plain dumb.

I don't know what Bela thought. I told him he got a letter but he didn't ask me to read it to him and I know he can't read.

You'd think a politician's dog--someone running for office in Cheshire--would know regular dogs can't read. So I guess politicians' dogs aren't that smart after all.

But the typing is impressive....

Autumn

Autumn is my favorite season. Here in New England it is the time to wear shorts with a sweater!

The leaves seem to be taking their time turning their festive colors--climate change and more rain than usual, I suspect. Surely further north than Connecticut the trees are ablaze by now.

Warmish days and chilly nights, what can beat that?

I know I've mentioned it before, but Autumn brings to mind the place I grew up, in the southernmost county of West Virginia. (I just looked on a map to make sure I'm not lying--where I grew up was several miles south of Richmond, Virginia. Anawalt was in a valley that was still 1680 feet above sea level while Richmond is 150 feet above sea level (looked those up too!)

Even that far south, being up in the mountains made for an ideal climate. Four months of Spring and Autumn and two months of Summer and Winter. Winters were a lot worse in the mountains than in Richmond, but nothing like Connecticut. And Spring and Autumn just lingered and lingered.

I'm tempted to look at the long term weather predictions, but I think I'll just keep on my shorts and my sweater and hope this weather lingers and lingers as well.

And I do hope the leaves get riotous soon....

Shooting baskets in the dark

I was just out on the back porch and heard two of our next door neighbor kids shooting baskets on the driveway with just the light from the back porch.

Through much of my life before college, I had a hoop on grass/dirt, not a driveway, and would shoot baskets until the ball hit me in the face because I didn't see it.

I spent so much of my early life playing basketball that it amazes me.

I was a decent toward good junior high school player. I scored 12 points and had as many assists in the 9th grade for Anawalt Junior High against Gary Junior High. The Gary High School coach even greeted me and told me he'd be looking for me the next year. I was ecstatic!

Problem was, I had reached my full height in 9th grade and when I started 10th grade at Gary High everyone else had had a growth spurt over the summer....

So I never became the star I dreamed of being, but until I went to college I would often shoot hoops until dark. I loved it, I really did.

Hearing those kids tonight brought back a flood of twilight memories and the feel of the basketball in my hands for all those years.

Something to be thankful for: those memories....

I am honored to sit there

I am honored to sit with the 10 other people who come to the Middlesex Area Cluster Ministry Council meetings (3 from each of the 3 churches and the Cluster Administrator).

They are incredibly and totally committed to their job. They treat each other with great dignity and caring. They listen intensely to each other. They are not afraid to act. And there is a level of good humor and laughter like none I have seen at 'church council meetings'.

Tonight I watched in wonder as they struggled with difficult decisions and subtle disagreements with that respect, commitment, dignity and great good humor. What more could you ask from a group of people entrusted with caring for and guiding three remarkable churches that have been in relationship for over 30 years.

I mostly watched because they were discussing the process of finding my replacement at some point in the not too distant future. They wrestled with the reality that what they were told at one point was possible was deemed as 'not possible' in the last meeting with someone from the Diocesan offices.

They were working on a letter to express their concerns about that meeting and they did so in the way I've described at least twice above.

I was honored to be in their presence tonight--I always am.

God has blessed them and me for being with them.

I hope they know that as well.

Here's all I want to say....

As frightened and depressed as I am by President He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named and as upset as I am by all he is doing to drive wedges and create chaos in our nation and the world--here's all I want to say: I am an American and a patriot and I believe in the deep down goodness of this nation and this people.

I do...in spite of it all.

I still have hope.

I still believe in America.

As much as I disagree with almost everything that's going on and as frightened as it makes me, there is This: I am an American. I have hope. I believe in the goodness and rightness of this country.

I pray that gives me the strength and power to speak out and do whatever I need to do to turn this dark corner into a brighter place.

My son wrote on Facebook (the only time I look is when Josh writes something!!!) that he's been considering whether he and his family should move abroad. Probably Canada or some other English speaking place. I'm not sure he was kidding.

I'm not there--not yet.

I still believe in America.

I still believe we can overcome this dismal time.

I still believe in each of you.

Stand up and speak. Believe. Hope.

If we do that....Well....just maybe....

Bela and the Yankees

I realized today, teaching the last class of the course I led at UConn in Waterbury on 'Reading the Gospels Side By Side" that the two things keeping me from being in despair about the President who shall not be named are my dog and the Yankees.

As horrible as things are in Washington and as inappropriate and unqualified the President is, I am distracted by one painful thing and  one exciting thing--Bela and the Yankees.

I'm doing much better as Bela's Man these days--understanding that my anger is grief and trying to make his life as good as possible. You don't spend 12 years with a dog and not be full of fear and anguish when he is in decline. Everything with him simply takes longer--much longer than it did before. So I get to work with patience and understanding--just as I hope those who care for me some day will do.

And the Yankees--two years ahead of schedule--are in the American League Championship--7 games from the World Series. Oh, my Lord, I didn't expect it and it feels so good.

Game One tonight in Houston. I can hardly wait though it makes me nervous and crazy at the same time.

Bela and the Yankees--keeping me in patience and excitement that in no way is inspired by what's going on in the country and the world.

Thank you both--little Puli Dog and the Baby Bombers--for some distraction and things to care about to keep me sane....

Waiting for "The Voice"

I'm waiting for "The Voice" to come on. I love that show, everything about it--the coaches, the talent, the drama.

So, waiting for "The Voice" I thought I'd reflect on "The Life" I've had and have. Somehow that seemed right.

I came upon a 2016 Christmas letter I wrote to my first cousins. I'm an only child but I had 17 older first cousins--all but three on my mother's side of the family. Most of them lived very near or 'near' to me and I saw them a great deal growing up. Some of them helped raise me--like Mejol Perkins and Gail Pugh. Mejol went on vacation with my mom and dad and me for most of my childhood. When they thought they weren't going to have children they sort of adopted Mejol as their 'sort of' daughter. So she was my 'sort of' sister for years. Mejol and I drove together from Baltimore to Charleston for Aunt Elsie's funeral.

I had seen some of my cousins at my last aunt's funeral--four or five of them, I think--and some younger second cousins (or third, who knows) from my father's side of the family. The Jones' (my mom's) kept meticulous notice of the family tree ('2nd cousin once removed', like that). The Bradley's were very flexible about relationship. I called second cousins 'aunt' and 'uncle' for much of my childhood.

My first cousins--mostly from my mom's side--were omnipresent in my growing up. The Pugh's, the Perkin's and the Jones' were always there.

I was the youngest of all those until my Aunt Elsie and Uncle Harvey adopted Denise. She was younger than me and I hope she felt my presence as I felt all those cousins in my life.

I live serial lives. I 'move on'. My son still has dear friends from his high school years. I have only one. I move on. And in all that and by moving to New England, I left my cousins behind. I regret it, but it's the way I am. (I saw a woman who I knew very well from St. John's, Waterbury today. We hugged and talked. I didn't remember her husband's name. "How's Bob?" I asked. "Ray," she said. Like I said, I move on. I don't mean to, I just do. I live in the present.

Anyway, in my letter to my cousins, I said this: "we have been profoundly blessed over the years with health and joy and our little family."

And I have been. Profoundly blessed by my cousins and my my 'little family'.

Profoundly blessed.

That's what I've been pondering, waiting for "The Voice".

Ponder your life. Find the blessings. Embrace them and give thanks....