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I was ordained into the ministry on July 8th, 2006 - since that time, the Fourth of July has always snuck up on me as a holiday. When I started as an associate pastor I could pretty much count on preaching on major holiday weekends, what we affectionately called "Associate Pastor Sundays." These include, but are not limited to, Labor Day weekend, the Sunday after Christmas, New Year's weekend, Thanksgiving weekend, etc. Being a solo pastor the situation is much the same, except I can now count on preaching all of the other weekends, too. That's called upward mobility.
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The girls, brimming with patriotic spirit, decided that the best way to start the day was to bake a cake and decorate it like the American flag. Shannon has recently perfected a rather perfect yellow/vanilla cake recipe...and I mean, it's really, really good...so she and Evie got started with baking before the day had really even got going. In the meantime, I loaded Piper and Tavish in the car for a special trip into the Yakima Nation to look for fireworks!
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Fireworks are one of those pleasures from an ill-spent youth that I can't resist. Something about the smell of sulfur and gun powder activates pleasure centers deep in the limbic center of the brain. I wasn't about to start them off with the bottle-rocket fights and roman-candle wars of my younger days, but they seemed ready for some entry-level firework fun. They stepped up to the roadside stand with a healthy curiosity about the colorful packages behind the counter and we left with a couple of non-descript paper bags filled with dangerous and glorious potential.
Fireworks would have to wait until the sun sank a little lower on the horizon, something that would come very late in these Northwestern latitudes. Shannon had gotten word that a local U-Pick place was opening for raspberries, so we loaded up the kids and headed out to hunt and gather. The owner of the place recognized Tavish from last year, and offered to weigh him before he headed off to gorge himself on the waiting crop. Then we could weigh him on the way out and just pay for the difference. Tavish lived up to his reputation, and as the rest of us picked busily for the next hour, Tavish disappeared amongst the thornless canes, emerging with red-stained hands and face when it was time to go.
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Duncan, your descriptions made me laugh out loud...you are a great story-teller! I wish there was a video of the stand-off/show-down!
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ReplyDeleteI love how they create a little memento when you delete a comment. It was just a simple misspelling. Now, it could have been any horrible thing the mind can imagine. I digress...
ReplyDeleteHow about a bee update?
Took some of the junior high students out to the hive yesterday - got one in a bee suit, he helped me as we harvested the first comb of honey to come out of the hive. We split some tasters up for the kids, gave some comb honey to the volunteer leaders, then filled two small mason jars. All from one comb! The colony has probably tripled in size since they got moved in to the hive....they have been very busy. I'll get some pics up soon...
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