Hope

I lied. In January 2002 I told a bold face lie to a circle of about 20 other sophomores in a room off the side of the Campus Center. We were preparing to leave for a semester in Oxford in just one day and had somehow found ourselves being led overseas by some really interesting characters. No comment.

To create more unity and team building (probably to avoid some form of culture shock - they liked to throw around that phrase about every two minutes to scare us into obedience) we were all supposed to go around the circle and talk about a present that we begged for as a child for either Christmas or a birthday. I panicked. I couldn't recall ever having begged for something so desperately as a child. I was not listening particularly closely to the answers as the conversation went around the circle, I was too busy crafting a story of my own design. I think someone mentioned a pony they never actually received, and another student talked about a keyboard. When it was my turn I said something about a surfboard so that I could surf at our family beach house in Galveston. My friend David promptly turned to me and whispered, "Show off."

I didn't know a lot about unfulfilled longings in my childhood. I was raised in an amazing home and really seemed to always have more than enough. I just don't remember agonizing over not possessing something. If only I could go back to that simpler time!

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
But desire fulfilled is a tree of life.

Proverbs 13:12

True story. I think my heart has been sick for a while. My current desire is for answers that feel as they are just out of reach. I've seen quite a few hopes drift off unfulfilled. At least that's how it feels.

I'm ready to see that tree of life come back.

The calm before the explosion.

Whew. What a weekend. Val and I both spent the holiday in Galveston with tons of relatives, too much food, and too little sunscreen. The highlights include one large extended family reunion, a neighborhood parade complete with motorized cooler (that's our "float" to the right), water balloon launching at passing boats, and the celebration of my Grandmother's 80th birthday. Success. Vacation time over. Now to the most insane three months I could possibly imagine. Deep. Breaths.

Fun With Linking!

First off, I want to apologize for the long hiatus! A delightful 4th of July holiday away in Galveston and a very busy week prevented a post from me. Sorry excuses I know, but what are you gonna do? Exactly.

So remember when I confessed to being afraid of the 1985 version of Alice in Wonderland? I am so totally not alone in this! Other people think it's terrifying as well! SEE? I knew I wasn't crazy.

If you're at all familiar with Rotten Tomatoes, you know how hard it is for a movie to get a decent rating. The score is based on how many good versus how many bad reviews a movie gets from critics. Wall-E, the highest rated movie of 2008 so far (and SOOOO cute! I love him!!!) has an impressive rating of 97%. The Dark Knight is at 100%. Granted it only has 12 reviews so far, but that's still really impressive!

Without a doubt this is one of the coolest news stories I have ever read. A designer remodeling a lavish New York apartment turned it into a puzzle and scavenger hunt for the family, complete with codes, clues, secret panels, and so much more. In fact, this whole concept is so intriguing that its rights have already been purchased for Lost mastermind JJ Abrams. An exerpt: Then one night four months later, Cavan Klinsky, who is now 11, had a friend over. The boy was lying on the floor in Cavan’s bedroom, staring at dozens of letters that had been cut into the radiator grille. They seemed random — FDYDQ, for example. But all of a sudden the friend leapt up with a shriek, Ms. Sherry said, having realized that they were actually a cipher (a Caesar Shift cipher, to be precise), and that Cavan’s name was the first word.

Amazing old photographs that have been made to look 3D. They jump around a lot to give you the 3D illusion so it might make you a little seasick, but it's worth it. I don't know how they do it or why it works like this, but it's awesome.

I'm getting especially anxious to see the trailer for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. We (we the awesome Harry Potter fans, of course) thought we'd get a trailer with Prince Caspian. No. Then it was going to come with Kung Fu Panda. No. Then it was supposed to be Get Smart. And Dark Knight. No. No. Still-- nothing! Currently we are hearing it will come either with The Mummy or with Clone Wars. But that's heading into August! And the movie comes out in November! We are seriously overdue. Anyway. All this so say, at least they threw some pictures at us to keep us happy (for now)!

Now I'm not usually interested in medical articles, but this is fascinating. It starts out about itching- why we itch, chronic itching, itching that's all in our minds- but later delves into the very intriguing topic of phantom limbs and their mirror therapy. I know I'm not making it sound that great, but it's completely captivating.

This is SO COOL. You'll like it, I just know you will:

***Update on The Mole! I really thought Kristen might be the Mole! I'm so off my game, I couldn't believe it when she got sent home. Now I am suspicious of Clay and Alex. It will be one of them, just you wait and see! I'm...pretty sure....***

Galveston Part 3

Soon the back of the vehicles were loaded up with beach mats, pails, shovels, tarps, balls, coolers, chairs, boogie boards, and everything necessary to build a veritable beach command center in the sand.

"I wanna sit with Shannon!" Amy yelled, making a bee line for Shannon's side.

"Shane, where are you sitting?" Clay called.

"Who's leaving now?" I asked, wiping my already sweaty face.

"Let's go!" Snuf said, climbing behind the wheel of one of the vans. I jumped in and grabbed a window seat, and before I knew it Amy had climbed in beside me and laid her head on my shoulder.

"No Ame," I said pulling my shoulder back, "It's too hot for that!"

"Leave her alone, Amy!" Carter shouted, climbing into the seat behind us.

"Yeah!" said Dawson, sliding in next to Carter.

"Shut up, Dawson!" Amy shouted back. "Shannon's sitting by me!"

"Who else?!" yelled Snuf, starting the engine.

I looked over to the suburban Tim had just climbed behind the wheel of and spotted Hilary in the front seat leaning forward to adjust the radio. Soon Aaron had leaped in our van and sat next to Dawson. Kathy had claimed the front seat, and Greg sat next to Amy. Everyone else had piled into other vehicles, and as soon as Amy realized what was happening, her panic set in.

"No, Dad!" Amy screamed as he pulled the door shut. "Shannon!"

"I'll come in the next car, Ame!" Shannon explained, waving as we pulled away from the house.

"Noooooo!" Amy screamed, the tears beginning to roll down her face.

"Ame," Greg said in a warning voice.

"Amy, shut up!" Dawson insisted.

"My, what a happy way to start the day!" I said, straining to be heard over her wails.

"Dad!" Aaron called. "Air!"

Snuf answered by flicking the AC to high, the sudden wind making my eyes water.

"Ow, Carter stop it!" yelped Dawson.

"I didn't do anything!" insisted Carter.

I looked out the window and tried to focus on the passing golf course, not quite able to tune out the ever increasing noise of Amy that Snuf was not succeeding in drowning out by turning up the radio louder and louder.

Sooner we had passed the Cha Cha church, the fire station, the general store whose name was constantly changing but to us would always be Sasser's, and were crossing the intersection into the beachfront neighborhood of Pirate's Beach. Amy was still screaming "Shannon" but her brothers had abandoned bickering and Dawson had begun a new career peppering Aaron with questions . Snuf, Kathy, and Greg were discussing how much of the beach had been washed away this year, despite the fact that Amy's cries had taken on a decidedly desperate "Streetcar Named Desire" quality.

When Snuf came to the last street parallel to the beach he made a right and we began our search for the cul de sac with the least number of cars. As we made the final turn into a satisfactory cul de sac, Snuf reminded, "Everybody help!"

"Everybody take something," Kathy echoed.

"Carter, Dawson, that means you too," Greg said.

"I know, Dad!" Carter replied, his eyes rolling.

Greg opened the door and Amy, as if realizing where we were for the first time, abandoned her quest to scream "Shannon" louder than a jet engine and excitedly jumped out of the van almost knocking her father over and ran laughing for the bridge over the sand dunes.

"Amy, you have to help!" Carter yelled.

We all grabbed for the beach equipment as Tim pulled the suburban up behind us and jokingly pretended to almost run us over.

I tucked a towel under my arm, grabbed a cooler, and slung an old, moldy orange boogie board that was undoubtedly older than I over my shoulder.

As I followed Aaron up over the sand dune bridge I couldn't squelch the excitement that was rising up within me. I reached the summit of the bridge and grinned at the sight of the ocean. Bliss!

I traipsed down the ramp and let the orange boogie board trail behind me. I shuffled through the sand behind Aaron and picked up the pace as the baked sand engulfed my feet and did its best to burn off a layer of skin.

We found a free section of beach and began setting up our camp for the day. Soon four holes had been dug, PVC pipes had been inserted, and the tarp was tied with bungee chords to the top. Kathy rolled out the beach mats, Tim began setting up chairs, and Snuf was finding an appropriate radio station on the small yellow stereo.

Clay, Carter, and Dawson made a bee line for the water and Amy sat on the sand right in front of the chairs and began digging a hole. Hilary and I walked down to the edge of the shore and put our toes in the water and I grinned, just happy to be standing on the beach.

Galveston Part 2

Continued....

"Alright, who's ready to go to the beach?" called out Snuf coming in from outside and clapping his hands several times.

"Beach!" yelled Amy, her mouth full of cantaloupe and juice running down her chin.

Other affirmative responses were vocalized and I ran out of the house, careful not to slam the front door, and thundered down the stairs to get my bathing suit off the line. After grabbing it and attempting to shake some of the sand out I saw Carter, Clay and Dawson tear past the house on the golf cart, weaving in and out of neighbor's driveways. I ran to the end of the driveway.

"Clay! Carter! Dawson! Come on! We're going to the beach!" Not waiting for a response, I turned and sprinted up the stairs to the deck where I almost ran into Hilary who was on her way to get her suit. She clattered down the stairs and yelped. I turned just in time to see her narrowly avoid getting clipped by the golf cart, the boys laughing maniacally. I grinned and ran for the front door as Hilary yelled at her cousins for their carelessness.

In the kitchen, Amy had already changed into her faded blue and pink swimsuit and was standing still as a statue as her mother sprayed suntan lotion on her back and rubbed it in.

"Val, do you want to go ahead and make your sandwich?" Mom asked, loading a cooler with ice packs and water.

Ginger and Shannon were making their lunch at the kitchen table, whose contents had magically been transformed from breakfast food to sandwich fixings. As I started on my own ham sandwich Clay came through the front door having already changed into his swimsuit.

"Clay, I made you a hot dog to take to the beach, do you want anything else?" Mom asked.

"Do we have any chips?"

As the food dialogue continued between them, Hilary, Carter, and Dawson had all come through the front door and Shane and Aaron came down from upstairs, having donned their board shorts and the appropriate grungy beach t-shirts.

"Grandma do we have any grape jelly?" asked Aaron, grabbing a jar of peanut butter from the pantry.

"Umm.... What is this?" asked Shane, holding up a zip lock bag containing a smashed looking sandwich with mustard smeared on the inside.

"That's my sandwich!" exclaimed a grinning Amy, who, have been sufficiently covered in sun block, was attempting to tug on a sandy pair of aqua shoes.

"Hi, Mrs. Apple-head," said Dad, coming in from outside.

"Hi Uncle Steve," Amy answered, rolling her eyes.

"How many cokes can I take?" Clay chorused.

"Just one," Mom answered.

"What? Mom, that's not fair!" he whined. "I always have two cokes at the beach!"

"Where does he get these rules?" Dad asked Grandma, shaking his head.

"Do we have any turkey?" Carter asked.

Ginger tossed it to him and handed Mom her sandwich to put in the cooler.

"Did you get my suit too?" she inquired, looking at me.

I stopped spreading the butter on my bread to look incredulously at her. She rolled her eyes and walked outside, passing Grant who also had returned from retrieving his suit. Kathy came downstairs and began chattering about the seaweed as she adjusted a visor over her hair.

"Is it really bad?" asked Joannie, who luckily did not notice Hilary's obvious disapproval of her mother's choice of a cover-up.

I turned my attention back to the other side of the kitchen. Dawson was struggling to be heard over Clay's insistence that he didn't need sunscreen. Shane was saying something to make Aaron and Grant laugh, and Shannon, having finished making her sandwich and already in her suit, was leaning against the sink talking to Grandma.

I hurried to cram my sandwich into a zip lock and scribbled a giant V on the outside in permanent marker. Having tossed it into the sandwich cooler I grabbed my suit and scurried into the bathroom to change and slather myself in sunscreen. I opened the door and almost tripped attempting to step into my beach shorts.

"Val, do you need a hat?" Mom asked, putting a book into her mesh beach bag. I made a face and started to shake my head but seeing that I was about to enter a losing battle, I instead nodded and let her put a cap in the bag for me.

"Dad, you got it in my eyes!" Clay wailed from the living room. I turned to see Dad laughing as he smeared Clay's face in one fell swoop with white goop and moved on to his back and chest, his large hands almost matching the circumference of Clay's tiny torso.

"Why don't Shane and Aaron have to wear sunscreen?" Clay asked, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.

"We put it on at the beach!" said Aaron, throwing one peanut butter and jelly sandwich into the cooler and cramming half of another one into his mouth.

"Ha ha!" Shane taunted as they both walked out the front door.

"Cute suit, Hil!" said Shannon.

"Thanks," said Hilary, entering the kitchen from the stairwell.

"Y'all ready?" asked Kathy. She and her enormous basket of a beach bag were heading toward the front door.

"Come on, Dawson, let's go!" said Amy, slinging her own beach bag, full of what looked like a doll, some cd's, and a handful of beaded necklaces over her shoulder.

"Wait, Ame," said Greg, passing Kathy through the front door. He attempted to get her to leave the bag behind as Hilary attempted to get Grant to carry her towel and Pam attempted to cover both Dawson and Carter in greasy sunscreen.

"Ready?" asked Shannon, her towel tucked under her arm and her beach bag in hand.

"Let's do it!" said Ginger, and I followed the two of them out the door. As soon as it had shut behind me it opened again and Hilary and Grant emerged.

"Did you see what my mom was wearing?" Hilary laughed as we all trooped down the stairs.

"It's not bad!" Ginger called over her shoulder.

My excitement for our trip to the beach heightened as I entered the garage in search of a good boogie board and a solid beach chair. This would be a very good day.

Stay tuned!

Galveston Memories

The following does not take place in a specific year or time period. It is a mash-up of Galveston memories and summers at the beach. These are the images I see when I close my eyes and imagine the Beach House.
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I vaguely heard the door open and lifted an eyelid just in time to see Ginger leaving the room. I tried to fall back asleep but now that I was faintly awake I could hear a barrage of noises and feel the sunshine straining to pour through the hurricane blinds. After several minutes my eyes fluttered open and the sound of odd video game pings came more into focus. I stared at the piece of plywood above me that was supporting the mattress of the top bunk and reluctantly swung my feet out onto the floor.

I crossed the room and opened the door, squinting at the brightness that flooded the beach house. Stumbling down the stairs I grunted a hello to Tim as he walked out the kitchen towards the front door.

"Good morning, Princess!" Grandma said softly, opening her arms to me. I leaned in to her and let her stroke my hair for a moment before pulling away and asked the all important question-

"Is that sausage?"

"Yes," she answered. "I made the boys leave some for you."

"Thanks Grandma." I smiled and bit the end of a link.

"Would you like some orange juice? I'll strain it for you!"

I nodded as Greg came through the kitchen and began loading ice into a blue disposable cup with his name scrawled in Sharpie on the side.

"You guys and your strained orange juice," Greg laughed, filling his cup with water.

"It tastes like hair!" I insisted, quoting my mantra and trying to decide between Cocoa Krispies and Fruity Pebbles. Any cereal that can turn your milk into a shock of pinky orange or a murky tone of chocolatey brown equals a great way to start the day.

As I slurped the last of my cereal, Grant appeared bleary-eyed at the foot of the stairs. Grandma began laughing at his hair sticking straight up and Grant answered with a sleepy grin. He sat at a chair at the end of the table just as Amy entered from the living room with one of her colorfully tattooed dolls.

"Hi Grant!" she said as she approached him. "Sleep okay?"

"Mhmm, I- auggh! Amy no!"

I looked up to see that she had leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and I chuckled to myself as he attempted to push her away.

"Amy, space please, darlin'," said Pam, entering from the next room.

She and Grandma began talking by the stove as Clay, Carter, and Dawson, having abandoned their video games, came barreling in from the next room and swarmed around the breakfast table. In a flash, Carter had his hand in the Fruit Loops box, Dawson was grabbing a piece of banana bread, and Clay was reaching for a sausage link.

"Hey, you boys! Shoo! You already ate your breakfast!" said Grandma.

"But we're still hungry!" Carter laughed, stuffing a handful of the colored cereal into his mouth.

Just then Kathy came in the front door, sweating from her walk and clutching a handful of orange and purple wildflowers.

"Good morning!" she said smiling at everyone. "Hi Mom, are my boys up yet?"

"No I don't think so," said Grandma.

"Grandma, I wanna go to the beach," insisted Amy.

"Do you boys want to wake up Aaron and Shane?" asked Kathy with a devilish grin.

"Yeah!" Clay and Carter chorused.

"Can we jump on them?" asked Dawson, but he was already running up the stairs with the others.

"Sure," called Kathy.

"Come on, Grant!" Clay yelled over his shoulder.

Grant looked up from his bowl of Frosted Mini Wheat's with a conflicted look in his eyes.

"Go!" said Kathy as she opened the cupboard in search of a plastic cup for her wildflowers.

"Beach!" said Amy.

I headed into the living room to the strains of Pam attempting to appease Amy. As I flopped onto the couch next to Hilary and Ginger, who were engrossed in an episode of "The Price is Right," yells and thumps began erupting from upstairs.

"What's going on?" asked Hilary.

"They're waking up Aaron and Shane," I answered, snuggling into one of the scratchy couch pillows.

After a moment of Bob Barker lecturing us to spay and neuter our pets, Shannon pushed open the front door clad in a strapless bikini clutching a magazine and a bottle of tanning oil in one hand and a portable CD player in the other.

"Goooood morning, sleepy heads!" she sang out.

Ginger looked up from the copy of People magazine she had been perusing. "You've already been out this morning?"

"Since 8:30!" Shannon answered excitedly as she tossed her things into a chair. "Gettin' a jumpstart on the tan! What do you think?" she asked, walking closer to us.

She grabbed Hilary's hand and pressed her finger's to her stomach. And although Hilary pulled her hand away, her white finger marks remained emblazoned across Shannon's stomach and heightened the reddish brown tint of her skin.

"Oh, gosh, Shannon!" Mom exclaimed as she walked in the room. "Burn yourself already?"

"Trying to!" she answered, crossing her fingers.

Soon the sound of thundering footsteps filled the house. Clay, Carter, and Dawson came tumbling down the stairs, giggling and falling on top of each other at the bottom. Dad told them to settle down, so they raced out of the house each yelling that they would be the one to drive the golf cart. They made the mistake of slamming the door behind them, and I glanced out the window just in time to see Grandpa point to the door, point to them, and shake his finger.

"Did you tell them to do that?" Shane asked accusingly as he stepped off the last stair into the kitchen.

"Who, me?" asked Kathy, laughing. "No, I think it was Valerie."

"Whatever!" I called, rising from my cuddled seat on the couch. "That's a lie!"

Kathy grinned at me as I walked in to the kitchen.

"Where's Aaron, didn't you boys wake him up too?" she asked Grant, who had returned to the kitchen and his bowl of cereal moments before.

"No, they woke me up," mumbled Aaron, coming down the stairs rubbing his elbow. In one motion he had slid into a chair, grabbed a tiny box of Cocoa Puffs, and started pouring its entire contents into a bowl.

Amy, who had engrossed herself in coloring in her Pocahontas coloring book, tore out the page she had just finished writing her name and few other random characters on and set it in front of Shane.

"Here Shane, that's for you," she said.

"Thanks, Amy," he said through a mouthful of banana bread.

"Here, you boys finish this cantaloupe," Grandma said setting the bowl on the corner of the table between Aaron and Shane.

Before either of them could make a move toward the fruit, Amy had taken a piece and put almost the entire thing into her mouth.

"Amy, love," said Pam, drying her hands on a towel. "No more."

"Alright, who's ready to go to the beach?" called out Snuf coming in from outside and clapping his hands several times.

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To be continued...

Does anyone here sing?

Easter has always been a wonderful time to be a member of my extended family. The cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and many dogs head down to Galveston, TX to spend the weekend together. 21 people in any house can be a good time…as long as it’s not raining.

We’ve always had good times in Galveston. The excitement of Easter derived not only from the celebration of the Resurrection, but also from the Easter Egg hunt and the Cha-Cha church. The church isn’t actually called the Cha-Cha church, that’s just what a majority of my family calls the church. We attended the gathering one Easter Morning and were quite the fish out of water. These folks were rocking on the hymns, and I don’t mean that sarcastically. At that point in our lives, (my brother, sister, and I) this was the rowdiest church we had ever attended. Perhaps it was the electric organ in place of our usual pipe organ, or the excited sopranos in the front row…whatever the case, my brother asked the next year if we would be attending the Cha-Cha church again.

We in fact attended the little church many times over the past decades. Our large family would absorb half of the seating. There was always a rush to be the grandchild lucky enough to sit with Grandma. Not only would Grandma tickle your arm with her fingernails until your skin almost fell off, but she was a surefire guarantee for a great laugh during the service. If any Soprano in the front row should make an excited expression we were all in for it. 3 rows of shaking Lutherans who had been trained to listen with respect and silence were now losing it as they watched their Matriarch crumple in tears of laughter.

I remember one particular Easter when we decided to attend the early service. Usually our enormous clan could file into the sanctuary in shifts not really making a blip on the radar. The early service was almost completely empty when we arrived. We entered in taking our usual seats on the right and gasped as we noticed a new organist and the absence of the Island Choir. We all waited to see what this would mean for the service. As usual, the Pastor offered for any children to make their way to a special class and no one from our section obeyed. We do not leave our formation, no matter how hard aunts and uncles prod. Don’t make me leave the pack! So we remained and the sermon proceeded and everything went as on as usual. That was until the end came too soon for the Pastor. He glanced up from his hymnal and looked at our brood and said, “Well, I suppose we have time for some special music. Does anyone here sing?” In unison, 19 heads turned and looked my way. Oh joy. I was pulled up on stage to sing a duet with the Pastor. He offered to let me choose the song. I picked the first Easter song I could find, “Victory in Jesus.” We prepared to sing when suddenly the little organist cried out, “I don’t think I know that one.” Well, we didn’t let that stop us. Oh no. My dad was sent up to accompany us and that morning I sang “Victory in Jesus” with the Pastor of the Cha-Cha church.

The next year a similar situation came about, but I was not about to be sacrificed by my family. I stepped onto the stage with at least five cousins in tow. The early service received their special and in return my family took Easter Eggs from the hunt...the eggs that were supposed to be from the special Children's Service. "O'Doyle's Rule!"

"Christ the Lord is risen today..."

Saltwater Coke

Some of the best days of my life have been spent in the little town of Galveston, Texas. The beaches were brown and carpeted in seaweed, but to me it was a glittering tropical paradise. Each day we'd load the car full of chairs, coolers, boogie boards, buckets, and the kitchen sink (well, maybe not that last one) and head down to the beach. We'd spend the morning splashing in the (murky) water, building sandy drip castles, and digging deep holes in the sand before grabbing our sandwiches and soft drinks and settling down to lunch. The sandwiches were sandy and the cokes were warm, but anything is satisfying when you're sitting out in the beating sun and watching the crashing waves.

After lunch, feeling especially mischevious, Ginger and I would sneak down to the water with our empty coke cans and carefully fill them halfway full of ocean water. Then we'd nonchalantly make our way back up to the rest of our group, pretending to drink from our soda cans, and trying our hardest not to giggle. Finally we'd approach our dad and proclaim that we simply could not finish our drinks, and would he like to have the rest? Perhaps because he was distracted, or maybe because the heat affected his powers of reason, he would always say "Sure" and take the can from us, not suspecting a thing. He would raise the can take a big swig until SPEW!! He was sputtering and spitting out the disgusting taste of saltwater. And Ginger and I would double over in laughter, as this clearly was the funniest thing in the world.

Looking back, I'm sure we weren't nearly as devious as we thought, and that he always knew what he was getting himself into. But is there anything funnier than pulling a prank on your dad? We absolutely loved it. To this day we have remembered our hilarious trick, and apparently it has stuck with us enough to become the name of this blog. Thanks, Dad!