good ol' boys and the horrors of Thanksgiving

I am privileged to the be the teacher for the 4-yr-old Sunday School class at church. Four-year-olds have a deserved reputation for chasing rabbits. (and cats, and puppies and parrots when available). In attempts to bond with my class and make the entire experience one that is relevant to their lives we talk about their lives, their concerns and we pray for the things that they bring up. We often talk about pets because I have figured that it is a topic that I can ask them about and the answers will be in 'safe' territory. We have prayed for Gracie's cat, who has had to adjust to a new type of food when the store stopped carrying the kind that it was used to. I have been assured that the cat, apparently a very old cat, has adjusted well to this unexpected change in diet. Not to be upstaged by a distressed cat, Andrew announced that his dog 'got dead'. It has apparently been a bit a while since the vehicular demise of the dog, but a traumatic retelling all the same. (and an excellent opportunity to reiterate the importance of not crossing the road without adults, so that we stay safe and do not 'get dead' like the dog). During singing time with the nursery group, each week Paula asks the children to sit quietly and raise their hands to request a song. They are very good about requesting songs that we know and have sung in this singing time on previous Sundays. They persistently ask to sing 'Twinkle, Twinkle Star, and we have gently asked for song requests that pertain to Jesus or God. (We have since, due to their persistence, decided that emphasizing that it is God who made the stars is sufficient for Twinkle, Twinkle.) Andrew rendered all the adults in the room unable to respond without laughing when he stated he would like to sing the 'Dukes of Hazard' song. I suppose Jesus could've been a 'good ol' boy' and he was in trouble with the law from the day he was born... One of my initial introductions to small town Wisconsin life was sitting at a table and listening to three 'good ol' boys' quote the lyrics of the 'Dukes of Hazard' song -- spoken, without the tune. The moment was a bit of an epiphany and the light bulbs in my head each blinked 'We're not in Kansas anymore'.
This week we made Thanksgiving turkeys from hand cut-outs and foot cut-outs. Dorian brought hers to her dad and he asked why her turkey was so sad. She laughed as she said, "Because he doesn't want to get shot."
Last week, during the same singing time the kids were asked what their lesson was on. They responded that Jesus had made a 'drink'. Paula, patiently probing them for greater retention asked what drink. (I had not emphasized what drink since the painting in our story book depicted a rollicking crowd, that looked to me, quite inebriated.) The kids did not miss the question though, annunciated 'Kool-Aid!' -- to their delight and my embarassment. To their credit, this had been the prop in the class. I told them that Jesus didn't have to use powder and sugar to make the drink. They said is was because he had powers because he was God and I think that was the truth of the matter and the alcohol content was beside the point.
Life, for me, is in the little things -- the side shoots and tangents; pet concerns and the availablity of kool-aid. Obviously in God's requests for us to pray without ceasing, He takes an interest in these little things as well.

without a coat

Today, walking to class at ten of eight in the morning, I thought, 'I don't need my coat'. It is quite confusing to not need my light jacket on the eighth of November.
I have spent the last 3+ weeks reading books and texts, listening to audiobooks and lectures, and watching documentaries about global warming. I haven't gotten through the books and arguments written by the 'so-called skeptics'. After tiring myself out with facts, figures, arguments, opinions, and the varied lenses to read the same data - I have decided that if the dire predictions about global warming, the direct relationship to carbon dioxide emissions, and the anthropogenic sources and influences on it all are correct -- there is nothing we can do about it.
and in this cynical state of mind, I will simply enjoy my day without a need for a jacket.

tired like an onion

Layers of fatigue go in layers like onions. The outermost layer gets tired and is rejuvenated with a good night sleep. As the fatigue sinks further and further through the layers it doesn't seem to matter how many 'good night sleep's I get -- I'm still tired - increasingly so. I don't mind always having something to do, it's the always-having-something-to-do-under-pressure that is getting to me.