Red Convertible and Reunion

The problem with those darn education people is that they want to super-analyze everything. I'm taking an educational theory class now and it's really chapping my hide. Do we really need to complicate our world with 15 explanations for the reasons why a kid does what a kid does? I don't think so. Still, I plod on. I've been at the library several hours now and don't know what I've accomplished. Ever happen to you?

My mother and stepfather are visiting this week. We met them coming up the dirt road on Saturday -- driving a red convertible! Seems every time my stepdad takes a trip, he gets a charge out of renting a sports car. Well, Ed and I rode in the convertible the other day and I can't say that I've missed much, seeing that was my first time. The wind whips up your hair, you can't talk or hear the radio, and there's no way to keep from looking Mandarin (and thus not seeing any of the scenery) at 60 mph. You can smell everything riding in a convertible. That's a bonus if you're into that kind of thing.

Mom and I went around town yesterday, running errands. We had lunch out at a place where dessert is included and you can have it as an appetizer. My kind of joint. We nibbled on banana and Oreo pudding until our sandwiches were up. We also checked out a used bookstore I'd never been to before and didn't leave empty-handed. Before we came home, I made my usual deposit at the Bank of Wal-Mart.

Robert has been helping with the construction this week. Jim, our contractor came out with two guys yesterday morning, and the five of them have started framing. It's goes pretty fast and is strangely quiet with the air nail guns. You just don't hear that bang bang bang of the 20 oz hammers anymore, thanks to technology. The menfolk were raising the second wall just before I left, our own little non-Amish non-barn raising. It's been fun watching the construction take off. Ed expects the framing to be done in a couple of weeks, then the roof will go on, and then Ed will take over.

We all loaded up the convertible and went to the Fleming family reunion out in Baker on Sunday. Most of mom's sisters were there -- Lottie, Linda, Eva, Betty and Polly -- and my uncle Brenton, so seven of the remaining nine sibs showed up. The food was incredible, just like an old-fashioned dinner on the grounds. There was corn and peas, chicken and dumplings, sweet potato casserole, beans, jello and fruit salad, and on and on. There was also a table groaning with sweet temptations -- homemade, lop-sided, sugary cakes and fresh berry pies and cobblers. We ate and visited, although it was a bit disappointing that only two of the 26 or so first cousins showed up, just me and my older cuz Kevin. Don't people my age go to family reunions any more, or is that just something older folks do? It's true. There wasn't much to do except eat and visit. We started serving at 12:30 and people were packing up before 2 p.m. Not like the old days. I can remember being dragged to family reunions on the river that started way before noon and lasted until late in the day. People sat around in yard chairs sipping sweet tea and fanning away the bugs, and kids played in the water the whole time they were there. Community has changed, and along with it the amount and quality of time spent with family, both immediate and extended. While the visiting was good on Sunday, it didn't seem to last long enough or go deep enough. Perhaps you know what I mean.

We had a terrific and terrible lightning and thunderstorm last night. A horrible "CRACK" caught my husband and I on the edge of sleep and made us both jump like we'd been electrified. Robert said he saw the lightning traveling down the pine outside his room. Today, there were no discernible lightning wounds. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for our new DVD/VCR purchased two weeks ago at Wal-Mart. It appears the power hit the antenna and snaked in to zap the machine. I don't know if it can be fixed, and I hate the idea of buying yet another one. But, things could have been worse. Eventually, we settled, all snug in our beds, and went to sleep with the sound of the rain coming down on the galvanized porch roof. This has been a dry year and we are not about to wave our fists at the sky if it will deliver the wet stuff.