Incentive for Draining a Pond

My granddaughter Julie before she fell into this backyard pond.

When I was young we lived very close to Catfish Creek. The creek was a river about 25 feet across and, according to my mother, a threat to our lives. One day when I was about four, I remember being with my big brother standing on the metal bridge high over Catfish Creek swinging my leg under the side rail. My new red boot slipped off into the river below. My six-year-old brother won’t think about going to get it.

I cried.

When my daughter Elizabeth was two years old she fell into our backyard pool and had to be rushed to the hospital. It took a miracle, but she survived. (The story is on page 193 of Blooming.)

My daughter Angela’s worst fears had to do with the fishless fish pond in her backyard in rural Saskatchewan. A few weeks ago while I was visiting Angela and Steve and the grandkids, little J. flipped off the decorative bridge face-first into the dreaded pond. From the deck where we were sitting, Angela and I heard the splash. Within seconds Angela scooped Julie from the dirty brown water.

I spent the afternoon draining that pond.

Why I Love Dandelions

   

 

A Weekend Getaway

One of the 19 waterfalls at Watkin's Glen

Have you ever gone on a holiday where everything turned out better than you imagined? My husband and I had just such a holiday last weekend. Maybe the holiday was so good because I didn’t have any big expectations. The weather forecast was iffy with a good chance of rain. We brought along our golf clubs, but were prepared to hole up in a hotel quietly reading books.

On the way down we met Susan Powers. It was her first week of the season at the New York State information booth along the Interstate 90. She accosted us at our picnic table where we were having our afternoon coffee.

Susan Powers was clearly bored. There weren’t any tourists yet. She recognized that we might fit the bill. “Do you want information about any place?”

“We’re going to the Finger Lakes.”

This seemed to disappoint her…we were practically there. So we asked her about the area. She ran back inside to get the appropriate maps and brochures. Well, she didn’t exactly run. She appeared to be about retirement age. She told us that she was the youngest person working the place. The employees were mostly in their seventies and eighties and one guy had been forced to retire last year at the age of 91 when they took his driver’s license away.

We thanked her for the brochures and I sold her one of my books.

We spent the weekend playing golf, hiking, shopping (I bought a dress), swimming, touring, wine-tasting, eating and we even had time for reading.

Sunday morning we attended Geneva’s Faith Community Church, a beautiful old stone church with stain glass windows, a full worship team with drums and guitars, and a lot of very friendly people. The weekly bulletin proclaimed our wedding text, “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all your needs will be provided.”

It was that kind of a weekend...a gift from God.

Facing an Alligator

My Hero