The Rock Wall

It’s the time of year when people take a little time to be thankful – which we actually should do every day.

At the On My Own annual dinner, the director, Jennifer Gundy, asked the 30 or so of us gathered there to each tell something we are thankful for. One thing immediately came to mind so when it was my turn, I told them, “I’m thankful for the plan of salvation and that the Lord saw fit to include me.”

– Right now we are in a holding pattern, waiting for the arrival of our grandchildren. Van, our one-year-old grandson, is supposed to bring his mom and dad to the Kansas City Airport on Wednesday, rent a car and come see us for a few days. Adrian and Van were here for the Picnic. I just know Van will remember it.

The other grandchild we are infanticipating is allegedly a granddaughter due March 17. Erica and Davis went for an untrasound last week and brought us a whole roll of photos.  After navigating in the swamps of southern Louisiana where my life depended on reading a topo map, I still couldn’t tell you anything definite from the photos. I don’t think Erica, Davis and Kimball could either. It seems I have heard of the doctor making an error interpreting an ultrasound. It wouldn’t surprise me. We could see a cute little face.

– I stayed home from church Sunday morning with a questionable stomach. About 10:30 or so I looked out our south bedroom window and saw movement. a lone little deer, which I assume was a button buck was busy grazing. Or maybe deer browse.

He was safe. I don’t hunt on Sunday. And I didn’t buy a tag. It was definitely on my property so I may not have needed one.

One year, Davis killed a button buck a few days before Christmas. From Jim Lowe, now retired PR guy for the MDC, Kimball got a recipe for back straps that involved marinating them, then slitting the meat and inserting nuts. Then she rolled them in crushed nuts and baked. When Kimball sat down at Christmas dinner, she took one bite and said, “This is what I want next year.” And she got it for the next 10 years or so.

The year Adrian and Cain were coming up for Christmas, and Chronic Wasting Disease was moving this way, I thought,  “I know people are supposed to get it, but if I poisoned my family, I could never forgive myself.”

When opening morning of deer season broke colder than a well diggers shovel, I was glad to stay inside. Sunday morning was the first shootable deer I’ve seen.  KL