I just finished trimming Paul's hair - it really needed it last week when it was over a hundred for days in a row.  But it's done now, and I'm sure the highs will get right back up there again soon.  After Bruce finishes giving Paul a bath I'll trim Bruce's hair too.  My bangs may be next.

Bruce weeded the empty corn plot this morning and afternoon.  We hope to have corn growing again soon, and I hope to be moved before the corn is ripe. 

Yes, it looks like it's all go for Fresno this summer.  Hard to believe; in fact, some days I don't really think we are, but I'm trying not to live by my feelings.  Bruce finishes summer school teaching next week, and has only two classes left to do.  One is a science class, taught by a man who has some classroom experience so he passes along really cool hands-on stuff to teach the kids.  Bruce comes home saying, "Here, try this!  It's really cool."  The other is an online course, and I think it will be pretty straight-forward.

So now we're trying to sort out the best options about moving.  Getting the house sold before we move would certainly involve the least amount of headache once we're already in Fresno.  But we aren't really ready to put it on the market yet - still need to paint the back fence, paint the front of the house, get the back yard under control, fix some grout-needing spots in the master shower, and for all the rest, I just say, let's ask our realtor when she comes to look over the house...yeah, like she did two years ago when we thought that was going to be the summer we'd move - but that's a completely different chapter.

Paul's school starts on August 18th, so before that we need to be somewhere stable enough that we can find everything we need to get out the door every morning.

We will probably be renting.  From what I've heard, the renting market is favorable to those looking for a place, so that's encouraging.  Once the car is fixed (it's in the shop because the AC is out - have I mentioned the days of over 100?) we need to drive up and take a look at houses and apartments.  I'm thinking we'll need to find somewhere month-to-month, hoping that our Bakersfield house will sell, and once that's sold then we can look at finding something to buy. 

Bruce and I both like the idea of finding something a little under-valued because it needs some fixing, but it's hard to see exactly how the fixing would work out in terms of time.  The first year of teaching is pretty time-demanding, as I recall.  But some things I could take care of on my own.  I can do grout all by myself, as witness our lovely new-looking counters in the kitchen, and paint, especially if the kids are at school five mornings a week.  But I don't trust myself with wiring at all.  Bruce thinks anyone could do it, but I don't think so.  I'm so glad he fixed a bad outlet in the kitchen.  Not only could we not use the outlet itself - the only really handy one near open counter-top - it interrupted power to the under-the-cabinet lights (I don't know how I got along before Bruce put those in) and to the under-the-cabinet CD player - yes, I'm spoiled.

The kids have grand ideas about the new house.  They have settled it between themselves that we should have a twisting-around staircase to go up to the upper story, and two slides to come down, and little wheeled stools at the bottom of the slides so that each of them can slide down and then roll right up to the breakfast table, where a robot will have food ready for them.  I think Paul must be borrowing from "Wallace and Gromit and the Wrong Trousers."  And they want to share a room, and both have bunk beds, so each child can have a friend sleep over.
At least they are excited about moving. 

Paul has had a couple of weepy moments at the thought of leaving Bakersfield and friends here.  I don't think either child is really worried that we won't bring their stuff - we've gone over than several times.

Well, tomorrow is another day.  I expect laundry on the line, and Ruth swinging her little heart out (I'm so glad she finally got the hang of it!), and Bruce putting in corn, and then an adventure in the afternoon - we're going to ride the bus to a friend's birthday party.  I've checked the schedule, and it looks pretty reasonable.  We'll definitely need to bring snacks and water and books for the half-hour ride home when we've already had plenty of excitement.  But it's only going to cost $3.60 for all three of us (me and the kids, since Bruce will already be at work) to go and come back.  I'm sure that's got to be better than taking a taxi, and by far better than renting a car, even for the day.

Bruce needs to use the computer for his class, so I'm done for now.  Cheerio and pip pip.

So as the kids and I were going through the channels to see if anything was on worth watching this morning (our PBS station is kaput and the other one is dead, and the digital tuner gets such weak signal that we only see about five seconds before it cuts out), we saw a religious channel advertising a show about what happens after you die, and it talked about hell with fiery visuals filling the screen.

Concerned about what my kids might think after seeing and hearing this, and perhaps understanding only enough to be disturbed, I asked them if they knew how we can escape hell (I think those two words were the title of the show being advertised).  They looked at me for a moment, and then Paul said, "Go to heaven?"

I said, "Yes, that's right.  We can trust Jesus to save us, and then we don't have to go to hell.  We can be in Heaven with God if we believe that Jesus died for us."

Ruth promptly answered, with a slightly worried look, "I believe all that stuff."  I don't think she understands what it means, so we talked about that everyone does bad things.  They had no problem relating to that.  I said that God doesn't like sin, or doing bad things, so much that he can't even be around it.  But when Jesus died for us, and when we trust him, the Bible says that he covers us, and covers the sin, and makes us holy.  Paul said, "I think I already did that."  I smiled and told him yes.  But that being saved isn't the end, exactly.  I said, "I remember hearing in church that grace should be changing your life."  (Thank you, Stan - this phrase has stuck with me for almost twenty years now.)  "We are saved by grace - that's what the Bible tells us.  'We are saved by grace, not by works....' so no matter what we do, it's not good enough to be saved."  Here Paul's face started to look worried again, but his smile at the next phrase was so sweet to me:  "It is the gift of God."

And then grace keeps helping us change after we're saved.

It was good to have that teachable moment.  I feel like we don't have a lot of them, or that I'm not looking for them actively enough because I'm so caught up in surviving this time of Bruce-in-school-kids-out-of-school.  But I'm learning that I can take moments that I would formerly simply avoid or try to ignore like Mrs. General of "prunes and prism" -- I  can take those uncomfortable or disturbing moments and use them.

Another memory springs up, given that framework.

When we were grocery shopping the other day we were approached by a lady who asked for money, and said it was for groceries.  We offered to buy her some (thanks for that example, Dad), but that turned in to a bit of a longish story, the short answer of which was "no thank you." 

So we went on in to the store, and I thought I might as well find a few things to give her if she was still there when we came out.  I looked for soft things like bananas, remembering a previous experience when I had bought granola bars (protein, non-perishable, very portable) to share with a panhandler and he laughed kindly at me and said, "I cain't eat them thangs," pointing to his few teeth.  The lady we had seen this time had almost no teeth, just bluish roots showing in her gums, hence bananas, a soft roll, some fruit cups. 

Paul said, "If we get some change after we buy our food, we should give it to that lady with the purple hat."  I said, "The reason I wanted to give her food instead of money is that sometimes people who ask for money want it to buy things that aren't good for them."  Paul remembered that she had been holding a lit cigarette when she came up to us.  I agreed that cigarettes are things that are bad for you.

In the event, she was not there when we came out, though we did drive through the parking lot to look.  When we got home and unpacked, a neighbor boy came over to play with Paul.  A truck went down our street, and the neighbor asked, "You want to know something he does that's bad?"  I said, "Is it going to make me sad to know it?"  That response didn't seem to compute to this kid - why would knowing something about someone else make me sad?  Anyway, I agreed to hear it.  He said, "He smokes weed."

Paul looked totally confused, since his frame of reference for the word weed is something you pull out of the garden.  I explained that it was a kind of drug that isn't good for you.  The kid went on to say, "And I seen him do this:" miming injecting something into his arm.  Paul was still confused.  I said, "He was using a needle to put drugs into his veins.  That's bad.  Using drugs is really bad for your body."  Paul wanted to know why someone would do that. 

The neighbor kid piped up with, "Because it makes them feel good."  I agreed, "Yes, it does make them feel good at first, but after a while, it doesn't even make you feel good anymore, you just have to use it so you don't feel bad.  I don't want to use anything that after a while, if I don't use it, I feel really bad."  Even as I said it, I felt a little hypocritical about coffee - even using decaf, I can still feel a difference when I somehow miss a morning.  Regardless, the trap-of-addiction argument didn't seem to carry a lot of emotional weight with either boy. 

I went on to say to Paul, knowing that his friend would listen, "Daddy told me that some kinds of drugs make your teeth start to fall out.  Remember the lady in the parking lot who asked us for money, and she didn't have very much teeth?  Sometimes if you use drugs your teeth fall out, and you can't work because you can't think well, and then you don't have money.  And sometimes drugs can make people act crazy and do bad things.  I'm never going to use drugs, and you should never use drugs."

So those were the moments about being charitable but prudent, and being wary of drugs.

Just catching up a little.  Folded laundry while Bruce plugged away at his homework.  Opened windows and the cool air got me all wide awake.

Today we went to the library and then over to the K.'s house.  They were gone but specifically mentioned that we'd be welcome to use their pool in their absence.  God bless their gracious family.  So we took a picnic lunch, swam, jumped on the trampoline, spread out the beach towels and read library books, and finally headed for home to rest.

I went in and deliberately woke Ruth up after Paul was up from rest time - I didn't want to start the cycle of "can't get to sleep at bedtime but still wake up at 6, then need a nap and then can't get to sleep at bedtime again."  She was so sweet to watch.  She'd hear my voice enough to smile a little, but not really wake up.  I laid down beside her for a few minutes and then tried again.  She finally was awake enough to respond when I asked her if she wanted to watch tv with Paul.  She hits the ground moving before she's really, fully awake.  I can relate.

We picked more squash and four green beans for dinner tonight.  We took the extra squash next door as a partial thank-you for the apricots they graciously shared with us.  The kids really liked them, and Paul was laying plans for planting the seeds and growing our own trees.

Yesterday we went to the park with friends, and a very cute puppy came and curled up under the bench my friend and I were sitting on, or under her baby's stroller.  If we weren't hoping to move this summer, I think I might have called Bruce to see what he thought about bringing home a new dog.  But we are hoping, so I didn't.

Tuesday is the last day of Ruth's school - though it's really going to be a party at a classmate's house.  Paul is already done.  At the end of the week, Paul and Bruce and three other father-son pairs will go backpacking.  Ruth and I will stay in town and she'll go to a birthday party on Saturday.  We might also paint our toenails - Ruth's been wanting to do that for a while.

We bought a roll of butcher paper so the kids can paint on the easel again, and we'll see what other kinds of crafty things we might get up to.  I've been trying to think what kinds of things I want the kids to do.  I've looked at VBS flyers from the church that houses Paul's school and the church that houses Ruth's school.  I like the idea of something structured and wholesome for the kids to attend during the summer, but I find myself thinking, "Yeah, but sometimes (depending very much on who is running it) kids can be pushed into mouthing words that they don't mean or even understand about 'having Jesus as a forever friend' or 'Inviting Jesus into your heart.'"  If my child doesn't understand even a little about his or her own sin problem and need for a savior, I don't want someone getting my child to repeat some words and telling him or her, "Now you're a Christian!"  I'm really concerned about Ruth in this regard.  I think Paul has accepted Jesus as his Savior, and has responded earnestly to as much knowledge as he's able to comprehend so far.  But Ruth knows a good thing when she sees it, and getting adults to think she's winsome and charming is, as far as she's concerned, a good thing.  I don't want her real relationship with Christ to be hampered by false mental constructions.

We will be attending our own church's VBS.  I'll be helping there, so I feel like I'll have a better chance of debriefing the kids and having conversations with a context that I was part of.  Or rather, "a context of which I was a part."  Grammar has really been nagging me lately - the attempt to reach correctness and then balance it with an awareness of audience and purpose and finding a tone that doesn't sound blatheringly pompous.  Actually, that whole contested sentence really just needs to be recast:  perhaps something like, "I'll better understand what the kids are talking about after being in the same context myself."  Hmm.  Maybe context is the problem word.  Except that I really like it because it so concisely makes the point that I'll be hearing some of the same stuff that they are hearing, and with the same emphasis.  On the whole, now that I've gone and beaten the tar out of this horse, I think I'll just say, "I'm glad that the kids will be going to VBS at our church," and leave it at that.

Bruce will begin teaching Summer School as a student teacher starting the 8th (Yay! and thank you God for answering that prayer with yes), and then take the RICA on the 13th.  I can't believe our personal roller-coaster experience is starting to slide into the last series of loops and twists.  Most of the good (literal) coasters I've been on are the quickest and most whiplashy (you know what I mean) right at the end - which is great in a ride that you know lasts only long enough to get your adrenaline pumping.  I'm not sure how I feel about that in my own life.  But I'm glad that the metaphor does not necessarily have to hold true, and I'm so glad that God is bigger than all our plans.