Love, Lucy

Dear Pollywogs,

   On Friday afternoon, July 17, our sweet, sweet Lucy left for Doggy Heaven. Rachel was holding her in her arms, sitting in the shade in the back yard, and petting her gently. She told Lucy that her family understood she was not well and needed to go where she could run and play. Lucy thought about this for a few moments and then let go. We will miss her terribly but can laugh when we remember all the great times we shared with her over the past 14 years.

   A few weeks ago, Lucy asked me to help her write a letter to you. Leighton was teaching her to read, but she was having trouble with writing. None of the pencils quite fit her doggy paws. She loved all of you and wanted to say goodbye.

To my eight Pollywogs and assorted family members,

  

   Fourteen years ago, I was born in Opp, Alabama. I didn’t start out as an only dog but soon became the only dog for a family who needed me. They didn’t know it at the time, but I would bring joy, laughter, and unconditional love to them, their children, and their grandchildren. They were lucky to have me.

  

   Now it is time to say goodbye. I’ve lived longer, traveled farther, eaten more junk food, partied more often, and worn more costumes than most fur friends. Life has been good.

   

   Well, except for the time Rachel drove me through the car wash.

   

   Pollywogs, I’m going to miss so many things. Your birthday parties and especially the cake. Wynn plastering me with band-aids. Wearing costumes for Halloween. Starring in Anna Lauren’s and Leighton’s Christmas cards. Sharing your secrets.

    

   I loved riding on the front of the boat while my curly-haired ears blew in the breeze and going to restaurants on the lake where everyone wanted to love on me.

   

   My favorite fun time was chasing little Pollywogs for treats. Oh, how I loved the cookies, cereal, and crackers! And Tyler, yes, I do remember the time you opened my jaws to pull out your cookie. I couldn’t believe you actually ate the gooey thing.

   

   I won’t miss any of you sitting on me.

   

   I’ve chased squirrels and ducks, birds and geese, cats and dogs, lizards and frogs. I still don’t understand why I never caught anything but a wasp that left his stinger in my mouth. Once a cat scratched my eye for no reason.

   

   Of course, there have been a few unfortunate incidences. I’ve stepped on all kinds of things as well as stepped in all kinds of things.

   

   A word of warning, if you roll in deer poo, you have to get a bath. If you swim in Lake Lanier, you have to get a bath. If you scratch your back on the gravel, you have to get a bath. If you run away from home because you’re scared of the fireworks and step in a vat of sap, you have to get a bath. If you have the itch, you have to get a bath. A small fortune has been spent on shampoo.

   

   BJ, I am sorry that my small, inconspicuous lump exploded during your Christmas party. Thanks for not making me clean up the mess. It was AWFUL!

   

   And while I am apologizing, I suppose I should tell Rachel I’m sorry my snoring kept her up nights.   

   

   Jennifer, I didn’t really think you looked like a bird. Jeremy, I’m sorry I jumped on you every time you came over, but I wanted to lick your face.

   

   Evan, Krissy, Keegan, and Aiden, I know I never came for a visit, but I didn’t want to ride in a crate in the cargo section of the plane. Brrrrrr! And scary!!!

    

   Uncle Ted, thank you for not screaming like a little girl when you woke up starring at my nostrils.       

   

   Aunt Shelley, I didn’t know all those ticks were stuck to my fur when I climbed up on your bed. Oops!

   

   I must apologize to everyone for wiping my drool on you and the unsightly eye boogers. At least my freckles were cute.

   

   When I get to Heaven, I’ll spend the first few days finding my old friends: Darby, Lou, Chunk, and Rigsby.  When I see Darby, my very best friend, I’ll give her wet kisses from Bryan and Shelley. Surely, she’s got those legs all going in the same direction by now.

   

   Lou may be difficult to find. He’s probably waiting for BJ somewhere in Colorado, sitting in the back seat of a Jeep. I’ve never been out west, but I guess I can give it a go. Lou will be glad to know I’m older and don’t really want to play much anymore.

   

   Rachel, I’ve heard that the food in Heaven is really healthy, so Chunk may have lost weight. Don’t worry. I’ll just look for a beautiful white cat with a big notch in his ear. I’ll lie when I tell Chunk how good Al has been and how much he misses him.

  

 I’ll get around to Rigsby when I finally have time. Anna Lauren, I’m sure he’s just fine, but you know how much he likes to hide.

   

I know Gran isn’t in Doggy Heaven, but I bet he comes over every now and then to visit Bounce and Charlie. He probably has some kind of regular visitation schedule worked out with them. Maybe he’ll take us to Piccadilly. I hope he’s learned his lesson about sausage by now.

   

I wish I had the time to watch all of you grow up. It will be quite an incredible journey for each of you. Bryan will create costumes for Indiana Jones movies; Tyler will perform soccer tricks in Placa Reial; Anna Lauren will be a world-famous story teller; Keegan’s singing career will take her to Broadway; Wynn will be creating cartoons for Disney; Aiden will own a tractor factory; Leighton will start a company to teach shy girls how to be assertive; and Blakely, I wish we had had more time together.

   

My life was magical. My family made it so.

Love,

Lucy 

     

Silver Dimes

Silver Dimes

From Stuff with Stories

   As the familiar music signaled the start of the processional, Couple 14 quickly stepped to the back of the line. Families and friends twisted in their seats as each pair triumphantly made their way down the aisle. This was no ordinary wedding, and these were no ordinary couples.

   For ten years, each couple celebrated their 25^th wedding anniversary with the other thirteen. On this night, 400 years of marital bliss took center stage at Holmes Street United Methodist Church in Huntsville, AL.

   Huntsville had been a traditional, sleepy Southern town until German scientists arrived after WWII to jump start the country’s space program. Overnight, Huntsville became something of a metropolitan mix and embraced its place in history.

   Holmes Street’s Fellowship Sunday School class reflected Huntsville’s new normal. It was an eclectic mix of several groups: church members from childhood (my mother), those who moved to town after WWII to escape the farm (my dad), and those with ties to Redstone Arsenal and NASA. Where they started didn’t matter nearly as much as where they finished—as members of a Sunday School class eagerly celebrating life.

   I played the piano as my dear friend, Linda Bailey, beautifully sang the customary wedding songs. We then took our seats to watch our parents and their friends stand, once again, before God and renew their vows.

   At the reception, my parents received the group’s usual gift of twenty-five silver dimes arranged as 25 in a silver frame. This would become a sweet and tender remembrance in later years.

   When Tim and I celebrated our twenty fifth anniversary years later, my dad framed 25 dimes from his silver coin collection. Mother died years earlier, leaving Daddy to love her “Always”.

   Today, Ted and Shelley are celebrating their 25^th anniversary. And what did Tim and I give them? Twenty-five silver dimes first framed in 1972 and given to Couple 14 by their beloved friends.

July 23, 2019

  Two Little Girls 

  Sailing on the

  Disney Fantasy

  Two little girls, cousins and friends,

  Can’t wait ‘til the magic begins.

  Hidden Mickeys and Napkin Hats!

  In the atrium, they’ll find bats.

  Ride the waves or dig in the sand,

  Castaway Cay will be quite grand.

  Giggle and wiggle, twirl around,

  Lots of Princesses can be found.

  Mickey and Minnie are the stars

  But the daily rule--Mickey Bars.

  Scary, spooky, this Disney cruise

  For little girls who never snooze.

  The Pumpkin Tree and Mousequerade,

  Halloween memories to be made.

Christmas at the Lake

By

Anna Lauren Lull

‘Twas the night before Christmas Eve

And all thru the place,

Not a person was stirring

Not a single face.

The dogs were asleep,

Snoring, Oh, quite loudly.

Everyone was asleep,

Dreaming, Oh, quite gladly.

Grammy and Papa

Were snug in their bed,

While we ran downstairs

With a tired head.

We waited and waited

For Santa to arrive.

He didn’t,

So we started to cry.

Then we realized

It was Christmas Eve.

I guess we have to wait

Another night to see!

Experiencing Christmas

Woolen socks warmed the feet of the WWII soldier stationed in Kodiak Island, Alaska and, later, served as his children’s Christmas stockings. Each year oranges filled the toes beneath new underwear and socks. Nuts scattered among the empty spaces.The small Christmas tree, cut with a hatchet at the family farm, provided a cover for gifts and a backdrop for ornaments. In the South, no one dreamed of a white Christmas, but everyone knew all the verses to all the carols. Christmas was simply magical for my brother and me.

Where do we find Christmas today? Volunteering for the live manger scene at your church. Visiting Aunt Sarah on Christmas morning, because she loved you so when you were young. Baking cookies for the school’s lunchroom ladies. Slipping into the back of a church in Salzburg where Silent Night was first performed and listening reverently as it is played once again. Hanging the family pets’ ornaments on the tree with your grandchildren. Reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to children too excited to sleep. Tiptoeing to your parents’ bedroom to whisper “Thanks” as soon as Santa goes up the chimney. Getting a puppy on Christmas Eve. Sending a Christmas card with a “real” family photo.

Christmas isn’t found on Black Friday or Cyber Monday. It was never meant to leave us broke, haggard, exhausted, or disappointed. Christmas is that once-a-year time when we have permission to seek the very best of ourselves and others. Where do we look? Christmas is waiting amid the season’s simply magical experiences.

With love from our family,

      Gay and Tim

      Jeremy, Jennifer, Anna Lauren (10) and Leighton (5)

      Evan, Krissy, Keegan (16) and Aiden (5)

      Rachel, BJ, Tyler (12), Wynn (6) and Blakely (3)

      Ted, Shelley and Bryan (13)

Veterans’ Day

Like other men of the Greatest Generation, my dad was an ordinary man who never understood that he did an extraordinary thing.  

After enlisting in the Alabama National Guard, he was sent to Alaska, never before having even been outside Madison County. He slept in a tent surrounded by snow until barracks could be built. He spent three years on Kodiak Island before going to France for another year of service. As a medic, he tended to German prisoners of war as well as Allied soldiers. When he finally returned home, he seldom spoke of the war, preferring to let the memories bury themselves. At the end of his life, he spoke of little else.

Daddy wasn’t an anomaly. He was a poor farm boy from Alabama and an American patriot. His idea of protesting the injustice of Nazi Germany and the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor was to do what he could to make things right. He was not alone. American Veterans have for decades been the guardians of the world, an often thankless task both at home and abroad.

Veterans have ensured every American’s right to protest, but protest alone and without positive action is futile.  Whether it is refusing to stand for the national anthem or screaming at the sky, protest as a single act accomplishes little. The valor comes in the hard work that renders the protest no longer necessary.

Will today’s protester, upon reaching the end of life, realize that change required donating the millions to a worthwhile cause, working with principled organizations, or joining the military to protect everyone’s rights? Realization followed by regret? Perhaps then would be the time to scream at the sky.

Traveling—

The Easy Way or the Hard Way

Dear Leighton,

Thank you for joining our Canada trip. I truly admire your determination to get yourself on the trip at the eleventh hour. When you threatened Bryan with “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” I didn’t realize the warning extended to the rest of us. Nevertheless, everyone loved your last-minute surprise that enabled us to hone our mountain-moving and hoop-jumping skills.

Papa and I were at dinner with Uncle Ted and Aunt Shelley when we learned the news. Bryan and Tyler were almost as surprised as we were. I returned to the airport hotel to call Delta about a ticket for you and was still on hold with them two hours later when you finally arrived.

Upon reflection, your dad dodged a bullet (figuratively and perhaps literally) when he knocked on the guestroom door at the wrong hotel.  Luckily, the man who answered at 10 pm wasn’t armed.  Your dad really should pay more attention to my texts.

Speaking of your dad, I doubt he even remembers that he had already paid for a seat on the 7:30 am flight to Boston and had to spend your college fund for those ridiculously expensive last-minute tickets.  I’m sure he didn’t mind sprinting to every gate in the Atlanta Airport for 12-hours trying to fly standby. What a bonding experience the two of you had in that Delta Lounge! And the picture of you asleep in your lunch plate was just too cute.

I regret that you didn’t get to Boston in time to join us at the Union Oyster House. It is a famous old seafood restaurant, and your sister ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. By the way, you would have loved walking through the globe at the Mary Baker Eddy Library. Someone will probably take you back to Boston one day.

You were very mature when you learned Anna Lauren was going to the Paul Revere House, and you had to go to the USS Constitution with me. Of course, most 5-year-olds don’t know who Paul Revere is. Or the horse he rode in on.

Your behavior on the cruise couldn’t have been better. I do, however, apologize for Uncle Ted. Other cruise ships allow shorts in the main dining room on embarkation day. Your dad’s salmon would have tasted better had it been served during in the first hour we were in the dining room, but you were finished with your kids’ meal by the time the two of you left for the buffet.

I’m glad you enjoyed the ventriloquist show. I had no idea dummies wanted to be called “Mannequin-Americans”. I learn something new every day.

Did you notice that you didn’t really get a headache when I made you to go the kids’ club?

Those two girls who sat next to you on the back seat of Ollie’s Trolley in Bar Harbor were just plain rude. No one should pay good money for a tour and then talk over the guide. I was pleased and relieved that you didn’t offer them the easy way or the hard way.

The picture of you next to the Big Fiddle in Sydney, Nova Scotia turned out quite well.

As for an update on Papa, swallowing the hearing aid battery instead of the sea sickness pill hasn’t produced any harmful symptoms. I’m not sure if it was more embarrassing than getting himself locked in the bathroom of the gelato shop in Malaga, Spain, but you could ask him.

Thank you for following, and exceeding, our one rule of cruising. Eating ice cream every day.

I  wanted all the kids to see Quebec City. We would have been on time to meet Duncan, the tour guide, if only I’d realized that the funicular was so close by. The walk to the summit was a killer. Uncle Ted was just to about to forgive me for the three-hour jungle hike last summer. Maybe next year.

I’m glad you enjoyed Niagara Falls even though you were too young to ride the zipline with Bryan, Tyler, and Anna Lauren. Thank Aunt Shelley for the trip to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. I went because I felt guilty sending her by herself with so many kids. Those nightmares you are experiencing after seeing the shrunken heads, the three-legged man, and the woman with the discs in her lips should subside soon.

And while you are at it, thank Aunt Shelley for that bubble bath. We were all praying that she would be able to find you under there. Fortunately, her hair calmed down and no longer looks like a bad perm.

Also, thank Tyler for the piggy-back rides and Bryan for cooperating during big-brother week. The boys decided to take the easy way.

Leighton Belle, you are one of a kind.

Daughters

Wisdom smiled as the answer

drifted on the mist.

"It matters not how they arrive,

The results are the same.

A spirit’s touch so recognizable,

 So familiar, you think it your own.

Comfort comes in knowing that,

If properly nurtured,

The bond is unbreakable.

Neither time nor distance

Has a measurable effect.

Understanding without explanation,

Loving without conditions,

Sacrificing without expectation,

Encompass the heart.

The primal longing for eternity,

For days without end,

Never to be forgotten,

To have mattered to someone.

Daughters."

Satisfied, she turned away.

In Memoriam

William Parks

A Good Man

They often spoke during that time of dreaminess.

Questions, some philosophical, some direct,

As though a final decision hinged on the answer.

“What is the measure of a good man?” he asked tentatively.

Without hesitation came the reply.

“Adherence to those ideals found across continents.

Principles transcending time and distance.

Unequivocal codes rooted in honesty, integrity, and loyalty.

Goodness recognizing evil.

Gentle humor overshadowing hostility.

Willingness to forgive.

Regrets? The catalyst to do better next time.

Imperfection? The evidence of humanity.

Love surpassing indifference.

 “How can mortal man achieve all this in one lifetime?”

“Many have no desire; others, no example.”

“But, what if…”

“Stop there,” came the tender voice.

“Yours has not been simply the life of a good man;

Yours has been extraordinary.

Now it is time to come home.

Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

A History Lesson

Obvious to all but the most simpleminded, history is nothing more than a series of stories, woven together in such a way to explain, entertain, and inform. Understandably, some are better at storytelling than others. I do not pretend to have been a master history teacher or storyteller, but I do admit to having enjoyed myself immensely. If you are one of those people who hated history in school, you might as well stop reading right now. If you choose to continue, you have no one to blame but yourself.

A good history lesson is one that connects, in concrete terms, the past with the present. For example, someone invented the fork because the hand needed to be replaced as a feeding utensil. Please note the resemblance between the hand and the fork. Or, Alexander the Great’s mother claimed that his father was really a god and she a virgin. I think you can see where I am going with that one.

Anyway, when Tim and I were in Italy, we visited places that I taught about for years. I came home with a new appreciation for the people who, so long ago, began creating the civilization which would one day culminate in America.

At Paestum, we walked among the ruins of the ancient Greek settlement. Three enormous temples stand in tribute to gods, powerful and popular at that time. The temples reminded me of the mega-churches springing up all around our country. It is more difficult to trivialize long ago expressions of religion when faced with massive columns and elaborate stonework.

In Rome, civilization’s journey is a pedestrian road map.  At the Forum, one can almost hear democracy crying for attention while, just down the street, the Coliseum makes one shudder at the brutality of man. Then, there is Vatican City, home of the Roman Catholic Church, sitting between the ancient and the modern.

In the quiet of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel, I realized it was simply a twist of fate that resulted in my family’s long association with the Methodist church rather than the Roman Catholic. Martin Luther did not mean to start a reformation; he just objected to a few of the RCC’s practices, most notably the selling of indulgences. In this scheme, families of the recently departed paid the clergy to assure that their loved ones received a quick trip to Heaven (think TV evangelists selling blessed prayer cloths). As they say, the rest is history.

Like Paestum, the Vatican is a monument to man’s search for god. No where is this more beautifully depicted than the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo did not want to paint the chapel’s ceiling, because he knew that the project would take years—years that could be devoted to his real love, sculpting. So he pouted, screamed, and stormed off. Eventually, the gifted artist returned to Rome to paint a story.

In the center of the masterpiece, Michelangelo captured perfectly the irony of this most meaningful of all relationships. God reaches out in strength and determination, and man’s response, weak and tepid, falls short.   

 

            

Next week, Americans gather for Thanksgiving. Among the items on our list of blessings will certainly appear the usual suspects—family, friends, freedom, and food. After we make our historical connection to the Pilgrims through turkey and pumpkin pie, perhaps we can also recognize our spiritual connection to mankind, past and present, as we bow our heads. We really haven’t changed as much as we may think.

The Stink Eye at the Equator

“Let’s go to Ecuador,” she said. “We’ll have fun,” she said.

Well, I did say those things. In my defense, I’ve never been at an altitude of 9500 feet or plodded through the Amazon jungle for three hours in the mud. How was I to know?

When I first dreamed up this trip, Tim and I invited four grandchildren to go with us—Bryan (11), Tyler (10), Anna Lauren (8) and Keegan (14). As soon as Shelley, my sister-in-law, heard about the trip, she threw a few pairs of clean panties into a bag, found her passport, and was ready to go. Actually, this is about how most of my trips evolve.

Unfortunately, this trip required all kinds of shots—yellow fever, typhoid, hepatitis, tetanus, etc. Then Zika reared its ugly head, and we had to spray our clothes and slather our bodies with special insect repellent. Finally, I was confident that I was well prepared to lead this adventure.

We arrived in the Andes Mountains and were thrilled, amazed, stunned, aghast, astonished, and dumbfounded for the next two weeks. Little did I know how unprepared I was.

I’d researched altitude sickness, but the Internet didn’t warn me that my brother, Ted, might have a panic attack at 2 am and try to find a flight back home. And all the other symptoms listed—well, let’s just say Ted experienced them all. This is when he started giving me the stink eye.

After I realized my blurred vision was a symptom of landing high in the Andes and not the wine, I tried to apply make up somewhere in the vicinity of my face. No one screamed when I appeared for breakfast, so either I was experiencing the kindness of strangers or was successful.

On that first morning in Quito, our group met our driver and guide who led us on a stroll through Old Quito, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I doubt UNESCO understood that vendors would be peddling marijuana to tourists and locals in the plaza outside the Presidential Palace. Finally, Bryan bought a shrunken head, and things settled down.

After lunch at a local restaurant next to a labyrinth of underground tunnels, we visited the Yaku Museum. It is a one of a kind museum dedicated to water. No kidding. We laid on the floor and listened to piped-in water sounds. Everyone headed to the bathroom as soon we could. Then the kids made bubbles. Wow.

The Inti Nan Museum was an improvement over the Yaku. Located at the equator, the kids balanced an egg on a nail and planted a foot in both hemispheres. The guide also carefully explained exactly how to make a shrunken head and the consequences of an encounter with a penis fish. The kids loved it.

In Otavalo, the animal market was quite a new experience. An assortment of cows, pigs, sheep, goats, rabbits, chickens, cats, dogs, and guinea pigs were on sale. As Anna Lauren proceeded to name all the varmints, the locals threw supper in a sack. Toothless old women held tight to tow sacks full of wiggling hens and rabbits hanging upside down and fighting for air. In the middle of the chaos, a sketchy group of men sold roosters for cock fighting.

Anna Lauren was determined to buy a dog for $4. No amount of explaining why this wasn’t a fantastic idea or a once-in-a-lifetime bargain persuaded her. She plodded out, looking rather like Grumpy Cat.

The craft market was tamer, so to speak. The indigenous Quicha wanted us to believe that they made all the items, but the same stuff turned up over and over. Tyler had his picture made with a wrinkled old lady selling dream-catchers. Everyone bought some souvenirs, and Bryan tried desperately not to hyperventilate. The kid loves souvenir shopping, and this place was on steroids.

At the weaving shop, an old woman demonstrated brushing alpaca wool into thread, using natural dyes, and weaving the thread into wall hangings, clothes, and blankets. When asked, Keegan volunteered her hand but had second thoughts as the weaver laid a cactus beetle in her palm and stabbed it with her fingernail. The blood of the now-deceased beetle was mixed with lime juice to make purple dye. When the woman sat on the floor in front of an old loom which required arms, legs, and back to weave, I admired her stamina. And also thought she was nuts.

The trip to the Amazon Rainforest went something like this. The van was a stick shift, so lurching, slowing, speeding, and lurching again. The road up, down, and around the Andes was clogged with boulders, mud, waterfalls, missing pavement, and holes. Where the road ended and certain death began was anybody’s guess. Four hours in and four hours out.

Eventually, the van stopped and the driver got out. Men appeared out of the jungle and grabbed our luggage. I asked the driver if he was going to leave us here. He tried to reassure me that we would not be used as bait.

The jungle lodge was much nicer than I feared. The main social area was spacious and welcoming. The kids had their own room next to the pool. I hoped they wouldn’t be carried off by a marauding band of killer monkeys. Even if they were, I was confident the monkeys would bring them back.

The next morning a jungle walk was on our itinerary. We gathered in the equipment room to swap our shoes for rubber boots and then walked to the main road where we entered the jungle. Dear God! That place is called a rainforest for a reason. The mud was 3-4 inches deep. We were slipping and sliding and falling all over the place. Every time I glanced back to make sure Ted was still alive, he was giving me the stink eye. We climbed over tree roots, vines, and dead limbs. After about thirty minutes, I asked the guide if we were there yet. Then we got the bad news. The hike was three hours.

All was not lost. We did see 3-4 new types of mushrooms, a couple of unusual trees, a few butterflies, and a monkey’s comb. Ted wasn’t impressed.

When we got back to our rooms eager for a hot shower, we learned that there was no hot water. The lodge had switched from a gas-powered hot water heater to solar. SOLAR? In the rainforest??

Back to the stink eye.

About that same time, Shelley discovered that there were no hair dryers. Her naturally curly hair became a hot mess in all that humidity, and you couldn’t pick her out of a lineup of wooly alpacas. Of course, no one mentioned it to her. The kids didn’t care; they headed for the pool.

In the afternoon, we canoed along the Napo River to visit a local Quichua family. When we arrived, a woman was panning for gold in the river, a back-breaking activity yielding about 50₵. We walked to their village where they served chichi, a native drink made from yucca, and, fortunately, none of the kids made a face. One lady made a clay pot. After all that excitement, no one saw the next event coming. Blowguns. The kids shot darts at a target until Anna Lauren won the competition. Next, they just had to have souvenir blowguns.

Tim emphatically informed (something about hell freezing over) the lodge leader that we wouldn’t be walking 45 minutes through the mud to see a waterfall, and Amazoonica magically appeared on our itinerary. This is an animal refuge housing wild animals until they are either ready to return to the wild or determined to be unable to survive and given permanent resident status. We saw monkeys, birds, crocodiles, and tapirs. Esmerelda, the anaconda, slithered over the rocks in her private watery habitat and shed her skin for us. Fortunately, Esmerelda will be a life-long resident of the refuge.

Our guide, Falsto, quickly concluded that he needed to regroup or his tip would be in jeopardy. So, he got out a machete and took the kids to the jungle. Each took a turn whacking a cacao seed pod and, of course, it was Anna Lauren who successfully separated the pod from the tree. Falsto roasted the seeds on the open fire in the great room, peeled off the shells, and the kids took turns grinding the seeds into chocolate. Falsto added milk, sugar, and cinnamon. The chef provided sliced bananas and strawberries for dipping. Heaven!

Just to make sure all was well, Falsto gathered palm leaves. For the girls, he fashioned headbands, Tyler got a hat, and Bryan received a man-parts cover-up. They looked positively tribal. After three nights of sleeping under a mosquito net and dreaming of a hot shower, it was time to say goodbye to the jungle and on to the Galapagos.

Summer 2016

The Man at the Market

He looked both ways. Cars slowly crept along from the left, so he waited on the curb.

The square teemed with tourists and locals hoping to discover a bargain at one of the stalls. Tagua nut jewelry, indigenous clothing and art, and even a shrunken head whose lips held a smoldering cigarette could be found amid the chaos. The overpowering aroma of spices and coffee beans blended with rotting fish and a roasted pig left far too long in the noon day sun.

The man patiently waited for his turn.

Children clustered around a stray dog, scratching his ears and feeding him snacks from their pockets. Oddly, the dog bore none of the usual signs of neglect. His shiny coat and healthy weight indicated that he was well fed. His wagging tail and slobbery kisses reflected the children’s lavish attention.

The man continued to wait on the curb.

Nearby, Kichwa merchants summoned shoppers to their stalls; each boldly claiming the best prices at the Saturday market. Colorful alpaca blankets, panflutes, dolls, and dreamcatchers—all on display.

The man wiped the dust from his brown pants and waited.

A family gathered out of the unforgiving sun to share a meal of guinea pig and corn, both cooked onsite. Ice cold bottles of water for the children and chicha for the adults quenched their thirst. Laughter floated in every direction across the square.

The man sighed and waited.

An elderly couple, he barely five feet tall and she not that, elbowed their way through the crowd to a table filled with shoes. She casually picked up a pair of traditional black shoes, and then she quietly whispered to the vendor. He motioned for her to come around the table, all the way to the back of the stall. Her husband shrugged and turned his attention to the monkey masks. Soon she emerged--wearing orange Crocs. He shrugged again and took her arm to walk beside her.

The man on the curb noticed the traffic had slowed. Now was the time. He lowered his head and placed his bare hands on the street. The cobblestones were hot, but he was as used to the hot as he was the cold. He dragged his torso and his useless legs off the curb and slowly across the street.

No one looked his way.

Everything I Ever Wanted to Know I Learned
at Huntsville Middle School

In Alabama, life’s lessons are usually associated with sports metaphors. Any association with “Bear” Bryant automatically implies a deep, almost spiritual, understanding of the complexities of life. The closest I ever got to the Bear was through my dad and my son; both knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that “Bear” could indeed walk on water. However, the mysteries of life were revealed to me at Huntsville Middle School.

I learned:
• The best storytellers make you laugh until either you cry or wet your pants. Alice Smith was a champion storyteller.
• No faculty meeting should last past 4pm. Otherwise, slap your purse under your arm and walk out. No one is going to stop you.
• The only thing parents really want from school is for their kids to make all A’s. Record keeping is just for show.
• Keys can be flushed, broken in the lock, and misplaced a thousand different ways even while securely attached to one’s wrist by a curly key holder. And key cards…don’t get me started!
• Sixth grade teachers cannot possibly be expected to finish the SAT in the allotted time.
• Principals need friends at school.
• Some teachers cannot tell a school system credit card from a personal one.
• The secretary is an important friend; otherwise, you will never have a sub.
• Shooting a hole in your wardrobe does not make you dangerous.
• It is wonderful for your student to become your colleague.
• Teachers knew it took a village to raise their children before Hillary Clinton.
• If the cops come to get you, do not throw yogurt in the copy room.
• Teachers make wonderful traveling companions.
• Disease can be handled with grace and dignity.
• Working a combination lock takes intensive training and at least a month of trial and error.
• Lunchroom ladies become matchmakers upon the arrival of young, male teachers.
• Spray painting a refrigerator box in the classroom is not a good idea.
• Tragedy comes to everyone.
• Walking in the gym does not promote weight loss.
• Always check your camera for film. High school reunions and cheating husbands are best captured on Kodak.
• Red nail polish can effectively stop runs in white pantyhose.
• Kids are funny. Laugh at them.
• Do not use your school computer to run a business.
• Know when it is time to leave.
• Team members who are great friends are Cancers and, thus, somewhat crabby.
• Organization is a gift. Don’t be fooled by notebooks.
• Beware of office aides who announce your gynecological results over the intercom.
• School people make the best friends.
• Some teachers require lots of attention and will go to great lengths to get it. They may scream like banshees, run through hotels with police, fall in uncovered utility holes, or leave their teeth all over Old Salem.
• Smoking in the bushes fools no one.
• Teachers and cars are a strange combination. Cars keep secret purchases, tote animal crates, look better with Cheese Nips on the seats, and may be used to trench the front yard.
• Teachers love animals. They hatch chickens, keep gerbils, attract mice, name squirrels, nurse cats, feed fish, run from wasps, and light up when they talk about their beloved pets.
• English teachers can figure bargains at Parisian’s faster than can math teachers.
• Librarians are practical and sensible.
• Grandchildren of educators are blessed.
• Students always choose neon over beige.

There is no place on earth that I would rather have spent my teaching career than Huntsville Middle School. I made life-long friends, and I am forever indebted to them for helping me raise my children, bury my mother, survive my husband, and learn the meaning of friendship.

The World of Dick and Jane

Miss Taylor taught me to read in first grade at East Clinton Elementary School. The World of Dick and Jane was the reader of choice, and I fell in love with reading. I even named my parakeet “Puff” after the cat in the book. The World of Dick and Jane opened my world.

Back then, children weren’t expected to know how to read—or know how to do much of anything—before first grade. Well, things had changed since the days of Miss Taylor, and my two little boys had to get with the program. Kindergarten was looming on the August horizon, and they had to be ready.

I decided to start with Bryan; after all, he’s the oldest and should set a good example for Tyler. I’ll admit that I had no earthly idea about how to teach reading but surely it couldn’t be that difficult. I’m great at phonics and charades.

I caught Superman flying through the house and told him in no uncertain terms that it was time for him to get serious about reading. I explained that he could go back to fighting the bad guys after he read one chapter in The World of Dick and Jane.

Bryan, aka Clark Kent, curled up beside me on the sofa and began reading “Dick” with a little phonetic prompting from his crazy aunt. Shelley wandered in as he finished and asked about his progress, to which he replied, “I can’t read Dick.”

I am now looking for my copy of Hop on Pop.

Grammy’s Birthday


Grammy's birthday is today, and we have a lot of excitement from the 8 Pollywogs.

Number 1 Bryan said, “Today is Ant Gay's birthday. She deserves a foot massage which of course she will be giving me!”

Number 2 Tyler said, “She needs some television in her kitchen. Well, I'll save up to get myself one first.”

Number 3 Anna Lauren said, “I will get Grammy a doll. There's a lot to choose from. Wow! I'll get this one for me, and this one is for her. Oh no! I can't get Grammy the doll. I'm broke. Oh well, Christmas is coming soon!”

Number 4 Keegan wants to download Grammy the app Snap Chat, but she has a lot to do. “Maybe I won't get her anything. She has enough!”

Number 5 Wynn said, “Oh, I'll get Granmudder a Paw Patrol bracelet, but I think she already has one. I have an idea- I'll get myself one!”

Number 6 Aiden has forgotten about poor old sweet Grammy but what is he doing? Playing with ..........stuffed animals.

Number 7 Leighton wants to do the greatest thing-- she wants to bring Lucy back to life but how is she going to do it? That's her problem.

Number 8 Blakely just wants to take a nap! But that's ok.

Grammy doesn’t need anything. She has the greatest gift ever—her 8 Pollywogs.



Anna Lauren wrote this on July 2, 2016 from the top bunk on the Darwin Yacht while sailing around the Galapagos Islands.

Love, Lucy


Dear Pollywogs,

On Friday afternoon, July 17, our sweet, sweet Lucy left for Doggy Heaven. Rachel was holding her in her arms, sitting in the shade in the back yard, and petting her gently. She told Lucy that her family understood she was not well and needed to go where she could run and play. Lucy thought about this for a few moments and then let go. We will miss her terribly but can laugh when we remember all the great times we shared with her over the past 14 years.

A few weeks ago, Lucy asked me to help her write a letter to you. Leighton was teaching her to read, but she was having trouble with writing. None of the pencils quite fit her doggy paws. She loved all of you and wanted to say goodbye.


To my eight Pollywogs and assorted family members,

Fourteen years ago I was born in Opp, Alabama. I didn’t start out as an only dog but soon became the only dog for a family who needed me. They didn’t know it at the time, but I would bring joy, laughter, and unconditional love to them, their children, and their grandchildren. They were lucky to have me.

Now it is time to say goodbye. I’ve lived longer, traveled farther, eaten more junk food, partied more often, and worn more costumes than most fur friends. Life has been good.

Well, except for the time Rachel drove me through the car wash.

Pollywogs, I’m going to miss so many things. Your birthday parties and especially the cake. Wynn plastering me with band-aids. Wearing costumes for Halloween. Starring in Anna Lauren’s and Leighton’s Christmas cards. Sharing your secrets.

I loved riding on the front of the boat while my curly-haired ears blew in the breeze and going to restaurants on the lake where everyone wanted to love on me.

My favorite fun time was chasing little pollywogs for treats. Oh how I loved the cookies, cereal, and crackers! And Tyler, yes, I do remember the time you opened my jaws to pull out your cookie. I couldn’t believe you actually ate the gooey thing.

I won’t miss any of you sitting on me.

I’ve chased squirrels and ducks, birds and geese, cats and dogs, lizards and frogs. I still don’t understand why I never caught anything but a wasp that left his stinger in my mouth. Once a cat scratched my eye for no reason.

Of course, there have been a few unfortunate incidences. I’ve stepped on all kinds of things as well as stepped in all kinds of things.

A word of warning, if you roll in deer poo, you have to get a bath. If you swim in Lake Lanier, you have to get a bath. If you scratch your back on the gravel, you have to get a bath. If you run away from home because you’re scared of the fireworks and step in a vat of sap, you have to get a bath. If you have the itch, you have to get a bath. A small fortune has been spent on shampoo.

BJ, I am sorry that my small, inconspicuous lump exploded during your Christmas party. Thanks for not making me clean up the mess. It was AWFUL!

And while I am apologizing, I suppose I should tell Rachel I’m sorry my snoring kept her up nights. Jennifer, I didn’t really think you looked like a bird. Jeremy, I’m sorry I jumped on you every time you came over, but I wanted to lick your face.

Evan, Krissy, Keegan, and Aiden, I know I never came for a visit, but I didn’t want to ride in a crate in the cargo section of the plane. Brrrrrr! And scary!!!

Uncle Ted, thank you for not screaming like a little girl when you woke up starring at my nostrils. Aunt Shelley, I didn’t know all those ticks were stuck to my fur when I climbed up on your bed. Oops!

I must apologize to everyone for wiping my drool on you and the unsightly eye boogers. At least my freckles were cute.

When I get to Heaven, I’ll spend the first few days finding my old friends: Darby, Lou, Chunk, and Rigsby. When I see Darby, my very best friend, I’ll give her wet kisses from Bryan and Shelley. Surely, she’s got those legs all going in the same direction by now.

Lou may be difficult to find. He’s probably waiting for BJ somewhere in Colorado, sitting in the back seat of a Jeep. I’ve never been out west, but I guess I can give it a go. Lou will be glad to know I’m older and don’t really want to play much anymore.

Rachel, I’ve heard that the food in Heaven is really healthy, so Chunk may have lost weight. Don’t worry. I’ll just look for a beautiful white cat with a big notch in his ear. I’ll lie when I tell Chunk how good Al has been and how much he misses him.

I’ll get around to Rigsby when I finally have time. Anna Lauren, I’m sure he’s just fine, but you know how much he likes to hide.

I know Gran isn’t in Doggy Heaven, but I bet he comes over every now and then to visit Bounce and Charlie. He probably has some kind of regular visitation schedule worked out with them. Maybe he’ll take us to Piccadilly. Surely, he’s learned his lesson about sausage by now.

I wish I had the time to watch all of you grow up. It will be quite an incredible journey for each of you. Bryan will create costumes for Indiana Jones Movies; Tyler will perform soccer tricks in Placa Reial; Anna Lauren will be a world famous story teller; Keegan’s singing career will take her to Broadway; Wynn will be creating cartoons for Disney; Aiden will own a tractor factory; Leighton will start a company to teach shy girls how to be assertive; and Blakely, I wish we had had more time together.

My life was magical. My family made it so.

Love,
Lucy

2014 Pollywog Vacation Awards

2014 Pollywog Vacation Awards
And the results are in for the 2014 Pollywog Vacation Awards

Best experience with an animal
Lisa the Monkey at Little French Key Honduras was the hands-down favorite. Anna Lauren and Tyler spent an entire afternoon holding her and only occasionally letting another child have a turn. Lisa was rescued after being stolen from her mother by animal traffickers who broke her legs so she couldn’t escape.
Camel riding in West Palm Beach
Lorikeet feeding at Butterfly World
Running from monkeys in Gibraltar didn’t get Bryan’s vote, but it sure was funny to watch him run.

Best room accommodations
Everyone had a different opinion on this and no one provided an explanation.
Cabin on the Disney Magic was Anna Lauren’s choice.
Apartment in Barcelona got Bryan’s vote. I’m not surprised that Tyler passed on this. I sent him down to the courtyard to explain to the people sitting there that he needed to retrieve his grandmother’s panties that she dropped off the clothesline.
Hotel in London
Apartment in Reykjavik appealed to Tyler. The clothes dryer was inside the apartment.

Best Food Experience
Frog legs in New Orleans didn’t get Anna Lauren’s vote although she thought they were tasty.
Calamari on the Magic was Bryan’s favorite and launched the boy on a lifetime search of restaurants serving the delicacy.
Chicken Paella in Barcelona was a hit with all the kids, especially Tyler and Anna Lauren. Paella is usually served with a variety of seafood, but the kids preferred chicken.
Mushy Peas in London was another of Anna Lauren’s famous tries. Perhaps after the iguana soup and mealy worms, mushy peas simply didn’t measure up.

Best Junk Food Experience
Sweets from the oldest sweet shop in Barcelona were Anna Lauren’s favorite. Sarah, our tour guide, let each of the children select their favorite flavor.
Daily ice cream on the Magic is a Lull Family Rule. I guess the thrill has lost its magic.
Churros dipped in chocolate in Barcelona were the boys’ choices. The kids sat at the bar on La Rambla and scarfed them down.

Best Tour Guide
Oscar in Madeira was the favorite of Tyler and Anna Lauren. This was our second tour with Oscar, and he was as wonderful as the first time.
Sarah in Barcelona was new for us and to the tour. She was warm, enthusiastic and great with the kids. Kid-friendly tours are always fun.
Guy in Malaga who made “questionable fashion choices” drove Bryan nuts. He couldn’t quite make peace with the guy’s outfit or his murse.

Best manners
Soccer players at Placa Reial in Barcelona who invited Tyler and Bryan to play with them and later posed for a team picture provided the experience of a lifetime for the boys, so both voted for the soccer players. Tim and I watched while enjoying a pitcher of sangria.
Marriott Manager in London who carried Anna Lauren’s luggage up the steps from the tube station and to the hotel won Anna Lauren’s vote and Tim’s admiration. Anna Lauren’s luggage was too heavy for her to drag up the steps, and Tim had dread written all over his face. Along came the manager of the Marriott and offered to carry it for her. At the top of the stairs, he asked where we were going. When he learned we were staying at his hotel, he led the way with Anna Lauren’s luggage in tow.
Angel who let us leave our luggage at her tiny store in Barcelona and later found friends to help us carry the luggage to the third floor apartment.

Worst Manners
Horse-head boys on the Disney Magic took Bryan’s vote probably because they chased him through the hallway until he screamed like a little girl. I know I flew with Bryan dressed as Wolverine, but, seriously, who lets teenage boys bring horse masks on a Disney cruise.
Drunk guy in the fountain in Barcelona who stuck his finger in a woman’s ear got Tyler’s and Anna Lauren’s votes. They love to retell that story—just ask them.

Biggest Goose Egg
Tyler, who lost two room keys and stuffed half his clothes behind the drawer on the Magic until the drawer wouldn’t close, didn’t even vote for himself. The cabin attendant was quite helpful.
Anna Lauren who cried because the caricature artist at the London Eye wouldn’t draw her with characters from Frozen.
Bryan who bought a soccer shirt in Barcelona featuring a player he’d never heard of.
Keegan, who lost three room keys, her favorite skirt and shirt, left her passport on the plane, and finally found her flip flops in lost-and-found, was the unanimous favorite.

Scariest Place
Tower of London dungeon was pretty gruesome but apparently not scary. Anna Lauren even made a note of the penis crusher in her trip scrapbook.
Ripley’s Mirror Maze was Anna Lauren’s scariest place, because she ran face first into the mirror. Bryan also voted for this, and I have no idea why.
Anywhere gypsies are lurking was a place to be avoided. Just ask Tim about his pickpocket experience on the Barcelona subway. Anyway, Tyler kept close watch and voted for the gypsies.
Oceaneer’s Lab, the kids’ club on the Disney Magic, was the place I thought they would unanimously vote for. After all, they absolutely refused to set foot in the place and kept taking off their club wristbands. At one point they had run up a lost-and-replaced wristband bill of $90. This was brought to my attention after the three of them were arrested by the cruise ship police for wandering barefoot into the dining room looking for Strawberry, our waiter.

Best Place to Sleep
Bunk beds on the Magic were the favorite in this category. The boys seem to love bunk beds—top bunk only. I don’t know why Anna Lauren voted for this; she ended up in bed with me every night.
Beds pushed together in Barcelona created a summer camp experience for the kids. Our two- bedroom apartment, just steps from La Rambla, was comfy and fun. At night, the kids linked their beds along one wall and told stories. After a while, I would join them to tell stories about funny things they had done. However, their favorite stories by far were always Rachel stories.
Sofas in the living room in Reykjavik were where the boys slept while we were in Iceland. Given that the sun barely set around 2 am and rose again at 4 am, it isn’t surprising that this received no votes.
Back seat of the bus in Reykjavik with your mouth hanging open must have been Keegan’s favorite place. The pictures are quite revealing.

Best way to get an arm loose from a Tube door
Only Bryan would get his arm stuck in the door on the Tube.
Anna Lauren’s spit—she offered but Bryan didn’t think this would work. Tyler apparently thought this was the best of the solutions.
Jerk on it until the arm falls off was my idea.
Uncle Tim’s hand sanitizer did the trick. Bryan and Anna Lauren, after giving up on the spit idea, recognized this as the best remedy.

Best excursion in Barcelona
Chocolate workshop at the Museu Xolata where they don’t speak English and pour chocolate down your throat would have gotten my vote. Tim and I left the kids at the kids’-only workshop with a leader whose English was a little sketchy. Oh well, they figured it out, and we had an hour to enjoy the chocolate museum and a coffee.
La Rambla where vendors sell birds, flowers, souvenirs, and penis pepper seeds took the boys’ votes. No surprise there.
Boqueria Market where the eel and octopus stare back at you is quite a cultural experience. The kids tried not to squeal.
Gaudi’s crazy buildings were Anna Lauren’s favorite.

Best Place to Shop
La Rambla in Barcelona
Harrod’s in London. Tim wanted ice cream here. Eight people, some of whom shared the gigantic sundaes, and $200 later, Tim was over ice cream.
Any gift shop—large or small—with any assortment of junk—no question about this one. These kids love to buy stuff.

Best Excursion in London

They loved London and especially Ripley’s. Anna Lauren couldn’t decide on just one, so she picked seven.
Tower of London
London Bridge
Crown Jewels
Royal Mews
Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace
Westminster Abbey
Ripley’s Believe or Not
Madame Tussaud’s
Egypt exhibit at the British Museum
London Eye
Kings Cross Station and Platform 9 ¾
Boat ride to Greenwich
Royal Observatory Planetarium Show

Best Excursion in Iceland
Blue Lagoon and the mud masks was the most fun for Bryan and Anna Lauren whose mother later spent good money at a salon getting the silica out of her hair.
Standing between Europe and North America was suggested by the former geography teacher.
Watching the volcanic hot pot explode.
Walking in an old volcano was Tyler’s pick. The year before I had a difficult time convincing Bryan that he was really better off that the volcano wasn’t active.

Scariest Ride
Anna Lauren didn’t vote for this category and stated that “nothing was scery.” This is the same girl who wouldn’t ride the roller coasters at Disney World in December.
Wooden Toboggan in Madeira starts at the top of a hill and ends downtown after a wild, death-defying ride through the street of Madeira. The two men who push the toboggan appear to be from the senior center. The first time Bryan rode in the toboggan, he kept screaming, “I’m going to die today. Tell Mama I love her!” He did better this time, but Tyler thought it was scary.
Bus in Barcelona was crowded enough to get Bryan’s vote. Little did he know that getting his arm caught in the tube door in London would be worse.
Floating through a cave in Belize on a raft
The London Eye was too slow to be scary for anyone.
Ziplining in Belize was more rush than scary for the boys. Anna Lauren was underage and saved her ziplining experience for the man-made pond at San Destin.
Tube in London quickly became an easy read for the kids. They took turns navigating our trips around town.


Please complete the following sentence
Bryan--I like Pollywog Vacations because “It’s awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Tyler—I like Pollywog Vacations because “they take you to places you have never been.”
Anna Lauren-- I like Pollywog Vacations because “they are fun.”

Thanks to my Pollywogs for sharing their lives with me. I am so blessed.