A hunter is born

Karen went hunting with me for the first time the first year we were married. I shot three squirrels on that particular stalk through the Hoosier National Forest. Karen had a good time on the trip and enjoyed being with me doing something I love, but as I recall, she wasn't much interested in learning to do it herself. In more recent years, we have talked about getting her out in the woods "when the kids are older." Well that day has arrived. Our kids are now old enough to be able to stay home by themselves for a few hours without a babysitter while the dear wife and I slip out for coffee, or a walk, or a hunting trip nearby. Last fall it got serious. Karen bought a deer tag and sat in a treestand. The deer didn't cooperate for either of us during gun season, but she conquered the most difficult challenge of it, which is getting in the stand, 20 feet up, and sitting there with enough focus to be able to shoot if a deer appears in range. We drew turkey tags this past spring but despite early excitement on the one morning we got to go, no toms came close.

Squirrel season opened on August 1st and Karen asked if we go for the opener. I took time off work and away we went. The woods near home where I like to go was still, buggy, and sweaty, but the result was this:

Those are the faces of happy hunters, smiling despite a collection of mosquito bites on our hands and heads that made us later look like Looney Tunes characters after they get hit by a mallet (despite generous application of bug spray beforehand!). She is smiling with accomplishment and joy. I am smiling because a dream I have held close since I was first married is now fulfilled. My bride has become a huntress!

Traveling Circus

This year has been the year when we have traveled the most. I went to Oklahoma with my brother in March to shoot the ingredients for good barbecue, then in June we all went down to the beach for two weeks of sand and surf with my Mom, Dad, and big Sis.

Legoland in Schaumburg

Then we took Sara and Ashley up to Timber-Lee Christian Camp in East Troy, WI for a week of spiritual growth and fun in the sun. The rest of us spent the night in Kenosha, went to the Civil War Museum, Villa de Carlo, Tenuta's, and a tour of the Jelly Belly warehouse, capped off with a visit to the Lego store.

After all that, we dropped Karen off at O'Hare for a two week trip to Amman, Jordan to see some dear friends that live there. That night I met my in-laws at the house. They left with the boys for several days at my sister-in-law's new home in southern Illinois and playing with the cousins before heading east to my parents' house for a week of sheep wrangling. I picked the girls up at camp on Saturday the 12th after they had a phenomenal week. Sara got in all the horseback riding and training she wanted, made some good friends, and learned a lot. Ashley got to exercise her flair for all things dramatic at theater camp (Favorite part? Stage combat)and made some key decisions that are paying dividends in her spiritual life, plus had her usual easy time making every member of her cabin a friend. One of my favorite parts of camp is seeing the kids' enthusiasm for worshiping Jesus and experiencing spiritual growth.

Sara with two buddies

Ashley with her counselor and cabinmates

While the girls were gone, I spent my days working at church and my nights replacing the floor in Nathan's room. (And yes, I know you don't see the whole room done yet, but it was a victory to get the furniture back in. There's still a closet yet to do, then the hallway and two more rooms!).

Down to the subfloor

Almost finished!

 

Karen, tired but full of joy, at the Amman airport

I should also add that this was the first time since Karen and I have been married (18 years!) that she has been off on an adventure and I have stayed home. Plus, for the last 13 years, we have had constant pretty much noise in the house. A week of just me and the dog kickin' it together was quiet and lonely. So getting the girls back home was a huge blessing! I got to talk with them, they got to hang out, catch up on Dr. Who, help me put the house back together, and participate in youth discipleship (which they have been missing a bit). Last Saturday was the day when both the boys and Karen came home. It was a grand reunion, but we are still recovering in some ways. Karen is still jet-lagging pretty hard, and there is still luggage needing put away. We finally got to see all of Karen's photos last night and hear her tell all about what it's like to float in the Dead Sea (which you can do standing up!), wander through miles of Petra's rock carvings, stand on Mt. Nebo and see Israel but not go in (like Moses!), see the place where Jesus was baptized, visit the ancient citadel where Uriah the Hittite died, and spend time with dear friends.

 Everybody is back now. The boys obviously need more exercise (hmmm...wonder if the city will let me keep some sheep?), and this Sunday John takes off for his 1st ever week at Timber-Lee while shortly after that Sara will be going to Washington, D.C. for a few days of sightseeing with a friend and her family. By the time we get everybody home for good, it will be time for school and JFL football to start up again.The circus is still moving, but I am glad I get to play ringmaster.

Hog Wild

I turned 40 this past August and my dear bride Karen decided to soften the blow of my entry into middle age by sending me on a wild hog hunt with Cabela's Outdoor Adventures, further cementing her status as World Champion Wife. Since I didn't think it would be nearly as much fun to go alone, and I relish every bit of time I get to spend with him, I invited my brother Steven to go with me and he was only too happy to go.

With that in place, the planning and anticipation stage of the trip began. Steven starting researching rifles, and I started blowing the dust out of my .30-06 with 150 grain Winchester Power Points. I had bought my Model 70 back in 1999, when Karen and I were still living in Texas and I had fantasies of going hog hunting down there. Somehow, four children and two pastorates later and I had never fired it at anything other than targets. It was time to fix that. Six months and a lot of dreaming, packing, and shooting later, we were ready to go. Steven found a great deal on a (very gently) used Kimber .270 and another one on a Meopta scope. He also got the directions to the ranch. We left first thing on Monday, March 31st, with plans to be at the ranch by dark.

Well, we didn't make dark. That is, we didn't make it to the ranch we would be hunting at dark. A mix-up with the outfitter meant we were at the other ranch owned by the same outfitter, conveniently located some 2 hours west of where we needed to be. Oh well, it's only another 2 hours down the road on top of our 12 hour drive, right? We rolled in quite late, but we were greeted by the guides, dinner, profuse apologies (and later, a check for the extra mileage).

We unpacked and rolled out of bed the next morning at 5:45 to meet the guides at 6:15 and go hunting. It was a beautiful hunt, with deer and turkeys wandering around keeping us occupied. Steven didn't get any action on hogs, but about 9:30 I had a herd of pigs come trotting through, but did not stick around waiting on me to pick out a boar. At 10:30, my guide showed up in the truck, which flushed the herd back out into some open woods 200 yards away. I rested the rifle, and a hog dropped at the shot. Later that night, we found another one in the same area--the one I actually intended to shoot. When I shot, the bullet passed through the chest of hog #1 and landed in the cranium of hog #2 (which is why she dropped immediately). The night hunt wasn't productive for either Steven or I. We both missed nice boars at last light. Mine was another 200 yard shot, and apparently lightning doesn't strike twice in the same day. Steven's was about 1/2 that distance, but he didn't discover until the next day that his rifle was shooting 6" low of point of aim, hence his bullets were sailing under the hogs and hitting the dirt.

My "bonus" pig

The pig I intended to shoot, but didn't locate till evening

Steven with his sow.

The next day, Steven got his scope adjusted and then headed to his stand. On arrival at the stand, two sows took off running. I should mention that when pigs run, they are experts at flat out getting gone. But Steven threw the rifle up and dropped one with a spine shot at 110 yards. Redemption! Honor restored! My stands, meanwhile, weren't productive at all on the second day.

I shot another big sow at dusk on the last evening, this time with Steven's slug gun at about 35 yards. Boom! A quick twitch, then the lights went out for good. I had another opportunity at a boar about an hour later, but had to move to get into position and spooked him.

Last night pig

View from the Lodge-Eastern Oklahoma in spring is beautiful!

All in all, it was an amazing, fun hunt and one I would readily do again. Definitely among the best birthday presents I ever received, and a great memory made with my brother. The ranch is both huge and beautiful. The "little" ranch we hunted was "only" about 13,000 acres, while the one we landed at initially is over 28,000. I'd never seen spring in the eastern Oklahoma cattle country before, but it is beautiful. The guides were nice guys and worked hard for us. The cook made great food. And in case you're wondering, wild pig is delicious!

The Mission Oak Inn

A post or two back, I mentioned that Karen and I had a belated anniversary celebration at the Mission Oak Inn. It's probably the loveliest B&B, with the best food and most beautiful setting, that we have ever stayed in. Plus, Denny and Jan, the proprietors, are some truly delightful Christian people. We are already making plans to go back there every year as a way to celebrate our marriage together. If you live in the area, it's well worth the money.

My Extreme Run

Saturday was my first attempt at an "extreme" run, which is basically a 5k cross country run, with obstacles. The obstacles were:

• a 100' slip and slide
• a 14' ladder wall
• a 20' military crawl through sand under ropes
• an 8' wall climbed using a rope.
• crawl through two 3' diameter culvert pipes, half submerged in a muddy pit
• run though 50' of muddy field
• run 4 up/down sand hills
• go over, under, through, and over 4' walls
• race through a maze of 55 gallon drums
• walk a 100' balance beam, consisting of 2"x8"s balanced on edge in a zig-zag pattern
• military crawl through 100' of mud pit under ropes (glad it wasn't barbed wire!)
• swim 20' under ropes through a muddy water pit

I finished the race 63rd overall, with a time of 37:34. It was a LOT of fun, much more so than your typical road race. I am definitely going to sign up for another one. I hear that the Spartan Race is pretty amazing, and the Warrior Dash looks like a good time too. Any compatriots out there looking to join me at the next one?

Cub Scout Day Camp

As I mentioned in my last post, the boys and I have spent the last three days at Cub Scout Day Camp, which means we have had three full days of all the BB guns, archery, leather work, knots, human foosball, crafts, drag racecars, DNR visits, flag ceremonies, Scout skills, and Slip and Slides that we can handle. Nathan and I got to be together all day every day, while we only saw John at lunch and the beginning and end of the day. It was a total blast, but they were some long, very hot, days. Below are some pictures:

 Nathan with Animal Jim's Mammoth Mercury: 2000 horses under that hood...

 We missed the balloon, but we hit the target, Dad. That's good isn't it?

TWO Bullseyes, Dad! Woot! Woot!

 John with the Mammoth Merc. He is probably more interested in how to make the car that fast in the quarter mile, whereas Nate would be the one who would want to actually drive it...

 John got to lead the flag ceremony one evening, giving the commands to the color guard in front of him.

 Nate and human foosball.

 Nate and BB guns. He has already put in his request for a Red Ryder to come his way this next birthday. I think he's pretty sure he could resolve Mom's rabbit problem.

Nate got to be part of the color guard raising the flag one morning.

Where you been?

Contrary to what may have been the impression that I have left of late, I have not traveled to the edge of the earth and fallen off. Here's what I have been up to:

Immediately after the kids' school year ended, Karen and I cut out with them for parts South, specifically 7 days at Walt Disney World and two days at New Smyrna Beach. We were one exhausted, tanned, happy, sandy bunch on our return, which was good because...

Our church's associate pastor had resigned his position to become a senior pastor at a church in Washington state and his last Sunday was just four days after Karen and I returned, sans kids from Indiana, where we had left them for the next week-and-a-half to party while we got caught up with life, laundry, and each other. I had just enough time to wade through approximately 250 emails, send some belated birthday and anniversary cards out to parishioners, open the mail, and write a sermon before Sunday came and we said tearful goodbyes to Jim, Darci, and Lucy.

That Sunday night, Karen and I checked into the Mission Oak Inn, finally making use of a gift certificate for that place which we had been given for Pastor Appreciation back in '09 (I think! It's been a while in any case). It was also something of a belated anniversary celebration for us since we were enjoying the actual day with our kids rather than alone. We ate field green salad with garden tomatoes and peach balsamic vinaigrette, linguini with alfredo, garden peas, giant scallops, and shrimp followed by chocolate cheesecake. The  next morning was cool and beautiful, with a mist rising over the lake and fields, and a breakfast of good strong coffee accompanied by southwestern eggs and stuffed French toast. We spent the day up in Bolingbrook shopping and hanging out together, ate lunch at Ikea and shared crackers and cheese with something bubbly that night. The next morning was another elegant breakfast then back to work and home, hitting the ground running, especially since we started leading youth group until we find a new associate for our church.

That Thursday we picked up my truck, which finally had its bumper repaired (don't ask), and we packed for Indiana again to get the kids. We left on Friday, returned with them Saturday, at which point detox from their long vacation began. Sunday was ministry and worship, and Monday started a new whirlwind week. Monday-Wednesday was Cub Scout Day Camp for the boys and me, with stops by me along the way to do Skype interviews with the Elders and a couple of our leading candidates for our new associate pastor, and lead the morning men's Bible study and youth group. Meanwhile, Karen has run Sara to summer sectional flute lessons, and Ashley to World of Wonder classes down at Bradley, where she is learning all about drama and acting (skills I hope she keeps confined to the stage and doesn't bring into the house!). All of which brings me up to today and this humble blog, which if you are still reading, ought to give you a reward of some kind, because I am freshly tired again from thinking about the whirlwind of life we have been living. But all of that to say, here's where we've been, I'm hopeful life will settle a bit in weeks to come, and there's a lot of things I've meant to write about that I haven't yet, so stay tuned...

Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?

It's time to take over the world!

I've been pondering Pinky and the Brain lately for a couple reasons. One, we bought the complete 3rd season for our family entertainment on our way to Florida. And two, I have lately been seeing a lot of the Brain in my children. Two of them in particular have developed the attitude of "Let justice be done, though the heavens fall!" And in their minds, justice always involves their vindication as being right and life, from the distribution of Power-Ade to the age at which a person can be compensated for mowing the grass must come out perfectly fair, lest the parental unit be accused of injustice. Moreover, since life is inherently unequal, the cry "It's not fair!" has become a relative constant at our house. Thus the similarity to the Brain, who thinks that all would be right with the world, if only he were King over it. My kids really do think that and long for the day "When I am grown up..." so that life will always bend their direction.

On further reflection though, I find the same dynamic at work in most of us. It's an election year, which means we are in the process of choosing which particular megalomaniac we like best, and which world altering vision we find most compatible with our own. Closer to home, we think that if only our vision for our homes, or our churches could be fully enacted, then all would be right and good. The problem is that all of us are like Kramer and George playing Risk in the classic Seinfeld episode: "Two people playing a game of world domination who can't even run their own lives." None of us is really capable of being fair or has any real sense of justice. Instead, what we are really after is a way of regularly tilting life our direction, of taking the world over and remaking it so that it pleases us.

But what's funny in a cartoon or a sitcom is frustrating and sad when I see it in my children and terrifying when given free reign in a government. Indeed, the desire for that kind of power goes back to the Garden and the Serpent's original lie: "You will be like the Most High." For that reason we must put to death the pride within us that drives us to make life bend our way and instead bend the knee to the only One who is truly just, and who set each person in the place He designed, according to his gracious and loving, but not fully "fair," plan and purpose.

It's not the kissing, it's the fights....

...and what you do afterward, that makes a marriage. Obviously, love and sex are big parts of the equation, for no one would get or stay married without love, and sex is the great gift which not only bonds, but also heals wounds, protects, delights, and comforts in addition to producing children. But I think that at the center of God's purpose for a loving marriage is that it would serve as a tool to make us holy. And making us holy means love mixed in with fights. 

If you really think about it, the reason that we fight with our spouses is because of sin, either theirs or ours, and often some of both. Our wounds, inflicted by their sin, lead us into conflict, and seeing the hurt we inflicted on the one we love, when we are repentant, leads us to change so as not to hurt them in the same way again. Meanwhile, forgiveness and grace extended after the fight do their work to bring healing from pain and the elimination of the wall that would otherwise be built between husband and wife, so that further hurt is a possibility, but so is deeper love. Over time, repentance, healing, forgiveness, and love make us look more like Jesus than we would have if we had never loved, and fought with, our beloved. 

Thus I can truly say, with Martin Luther, "Marriage did for me what no monastery could."

Shooting with the boys

Since I was on such a roll with Sara, I decided to take the boys shooting on Monday. It was holiday, it was warm for January, the club I recently joined is minutes from my house, and the boys have been begging to go, so I was all out of excuses (Not that they exactly had to twist my arm). So we loaded up two BB guns and my new .22 rifle, my target stand, ammo, enough BBs to keep Red Ryder supplied for 3 years, earplugs, eye protection, a stack of targets, plus the necessities-three bottles of pop and two theater size boxes of Swedish fish. It wasn't quite as much stuff as the Special Forces took to get bin Laden, but we were close.

That gathered, we shot till I ran through 2 boxes of .22 shells and we ran both BB guns dry. They had a blast. We stuck some old 12 gauge hulls through the holes in the target boards set up at 25 yards, and Nate actually hit one of those nickel sized target with my .22, though I'm still not sure how that happened, since we won't be nicknaming him "Deadeye" any time soon. Then it was time to shoot the now-empty pop bottles, which they throughly enjoyed shredding. Hollow point bullets, even in a .22, really do a number on whatever they hit. So of course we had to take pictures and bring the bottles home to Mom to show off.

Total cost of the day? I think I'm out roughly 20 bucks including ammo, targets, and food. But the memory? Priceless. And giving the boys something they can always enjoy doing with their daddy? Beyond measure.

A hunting we will go...

So my eldest and I went hunting for the first time this past Sunday. I had been waiting for the complete end of deer season so that I would not spoil my hunting partner's chances at a last-minute deer. Also, I didn't think there was any great hurry since the place seems to have a squirrel in virtually every other tree during deer season.

Alas, such was not the case the day we went. I think it may have had something to do with the fact that we went out mid-afternoon rather than either at sunrise (my preferred time) or sunset (which can also be good). I was hopeful that Sara's first squirrel would fall, but we actually did. not. see. a. single. one. Which was kind of sad and disappointing. I consoled her with the thought that "sometimes you get 'em and sometimes you talk your shotgun for a walk." Which is what we wound up doing. I think I can talk her into going with again, but we should definitely go in the morning next time. Still, I think if nothing else, she and I got time alone to just talk and be together (a rare thing in a house with three siblings), and we got to be in the woods together (and collect my trail camera, by which this photo-among others-was taken).

Things worth celebrating

In the words of the great theologian Ferris Bueller, "Life goes by pretty fast sometimes. If you don't slow down once in a while, you might miss it." In that spirit, I've decided that this morning, I should slow down and think about some of the great things God is doing in my life right now. Here's a partial list:

1. Pastoring. I'm entering my 11th year of life as a pastor and finding that the opportunities for ministry are just growing by the day. Every day brings fresh opportunities to share the gospel, build into the life of a younger believer, give counsel to those needing advice, encouragement to the beat down, and provide leadership to God's flock. Most days I wonder how and why God chose me (of all people!) to do these things, but I feel blessed to have the privilege.
2. Ordination. I got ordained the first time back in '04, three years into my first pastorate at an independent Bible church. Now I'm seeking ordination from the EFCA, the denomination to which my church belongs and the one I've decided to make my theological home. Since the processes are not the same, I've found myself having to do a significant amount of writing from scratch on the paper, but praise God, I've had time and space to think and write. Very often, I find the demands of life provide too little of either, so this is a true blessing. 15 pages in, 25 more remain till I hit the absolute limit they will accept.
3. Fathering. I got into Cub Scouts two years ago so I'd have an organized, planned, regular time to spend with the boys doing things I'd like to do with them anyway. Pinewood derby races are upon me, and I am frantically finishing up their cars, but it has produced a lot of good interaction along the way. The girls are reading and discovering fantasy literature, one of my semi-geeky fascinations and as they are growing up (way too soon, in my view. Time to oil the shotgun!), we're having really good talks, especially at night as we pray together and I tuck them in.
4. Husband. Karen the Fair and I seem to be entering into that stage of marriage I've heard other old married couples talk about, where you're content just to be in each other's presence and sharing life together. It's very good. She knows me as fully as anyone ever did, and still loves me, warts and all.

It's a blessed life. I'm glad I get to live it.

Morning Boys

One of the joys of my mornings has been being able to be there to see the boys off to school. They are so excited to get on that big bus, they literally run down the driveway to meet it each morning. Here they are, looking ready to go:

The boys of fall

This week is a great week at the Horn house. My sons started playing flag football in the evenings, and Karen and I are getting our first dose of being "sports parents." We have promised each other that we will not become one of those parents, the kind who generate eye rolls and deep sighs throughout the stands. And I'm glad we are committed to this already, because once the boys are suited up and playing, the temptation will run high, .

This fulfills a little dream for me too. I know you aren't supposed to live vicariously through your kids, but childhood seizures meant I never got to play competitive football myself, and I am genuinely thrilled for them. They are already doing drills, running Indian runs, practicing their stances, getting ready for the "hit" portion of the game, and being coached by Dad on such important phrases as "It's just a scratch. Put me back in, Coach." I'm so proud of them, I could bust. We'll see what happens after they actually get to touch a football, but this is a pretty magic moment, and I feel blessed to be experiencing it with my sons.

Family Vacation

Since we are spending this season of our lives in a very small community, one of the things our family really enjoys is trips to "the big city," and round here that means Chicago. We want our children to experience the sights, sounds, and tastes of places outside the little world we inhabit, and to have fun visiting a place we wouldn't want to actually take them to live in. So off we went, to ride the El, eat Chicago food, see museums, shop at their favorite stores (American Girl and the Lego Store), and eat chocolate.

Our enthusiasm remained undimmed, despite bouts of the worst family infestation of stomach virus I've ever seen. Hopefully, you can see that in the "highlight reel" below:

This is the Pioneer Zephyr, the train that set a land speed record for its non-stop run between Denver and Chicago back in the day. This was also one of the kids' favorite parts of the Science and Industry Museum. Personally, since it was my first trip too, I could have spent a lot more time looking around the U-505 submarine and the associated exhibits. The history connected with that was irresistible for me, but alas, not so much for the kids.

This is Nate's evaluation of the experience of riding the "El." The others weren't quite so impressed, but it was still the only time in my memory when public transport was a highlight...

On our last day, the boys and I headed off to the Lego Store, home of Lego Darth, Lego Woody, Lego Yoda, and a large assortment of Lego sets, games, and miscellaneous pieces (to help you re-build the sets to which you have mysteriously lost some of the pieces). It was a fun sort of trip to a version of boy heaven (except that nothing there comes by grace), and John and Nate got to pick out some small things to add to their collections.

Our adventures in Legoland ended, and so it was time to journey down a floor to join the girls at American Girl. With Sara off still figuring out exactly how to spend the $50 in squirreled away allowance (far easier than it sounds, in that place--$50 doesn't go that far), I got Ashley to be my all star American Girl while she waited with the boys and I by the door. As an aside, why are there never any comfortable chairs in a girly store? Don't they know that men and boys are often semi-willing participants in the shopping excursion there?

And finally, it's just not a Horn family vacation if there' no stop at Cabela's or Bass Pro somewhere, so this was our last stop on the last day. If you can't read it, the sign over the door reads, "Welcome Hunters, Fishermen, and Other Liars." At lot to be said for truth in advertising, if you ask me, so I'm wondering how a sign like that would look over the doors at church.

Day Camp

Here's some of the photos from Heartland District Cub Scout Day Camp with John:

John loved playing Robin Hood, but he is cross-dominant, which means that even though he is right-handed, his dominant eye is his left. Due to the the shortage of left-handed bows, this meant that he needed to shoot right handed and cover his left eye. So despite looking like a pirate with a caution tape "eye patch," he did learn to shoot pretty well and really enjoyed himself!

Here, John is doing his other favorite camp activity, BB guns. He earned his sharpshooter patch, and outshot everyone else his age. Needless to say, Dad was pretty proud of John's first time out.


This is human foosball. It is set up exactly like a foosball table, only with ropes instead of rods. Each player slides down the rope using the pieces of PVC they are holding and knots in the rope limit movement to their zone of play, like the stops on a foosball table. The boys had fun, but about 1/2 hour's worth is all they could take before they wanted a break. John is in the center, wearing a clear poncho, because it had just stopped raining (again!).

Wild Honey

I spent part of last week at Cub Scout Day Camp with my oldest son John, who is a Wolf Scout this year. It was a great time of learning to shoot BB guns, make things out of leather and emboss them, build a bird feeder, shoot BB guns, play human foosball, practice with bows and arrows, learn how to properly fold and care for a flag, shoot each other with water guns, and yes, shoot BB guns.

It rained off and on all three days, including an epic downpour on the first day. On the night of the second day, there was a massive storm that knocked down trees all over the park where we were having camp. So our Cub Scout Service project was helping pick up limbs and sticks for an hour. But we all also spotted the huge hollow treetop that came down which contained a honey beehive. As the intrepid sort who had to try to collect some, and since the odds of me coming across another wild hive like this in the future are somewhere between slim and Barack Obama's re-election prospects, I waited until all the boys were otherwise occupied and then hustled back to the truck for some gallon sacks to stick some honeycomb in. For the curious, no, I did not get get stung. What I got was a lot of honey filled comb with no very good idea how to extract the honey.

I called a friend, who told me that commercial honey producers cut open the combs and separate the honey from the comb with centrifuges. Huh. Learn something new everyday. But my garage being a little light in the centrifuge department, I had to rely on something else: hillbilly ingenuity, which quickly devised a plan involving a bowl, a glass jar, a funnel and some brand new knee high pantyhose (which were a bargain at $ .33 a pair). Clean, sweet, fruity tasting honey was the result. I was excited to be able to show the kids where honey comes from and more excited (being kinda cheap), not to have to buy honey for a couple weeks.

Next project: Find some wild locusts to eat with it and a camel hair coat to preach in next Sunday...

Sun, Sand, and Celebration

As many you already know, Karen and I went to Florida to celebrate our 15-year anniversary. We left on June 2nd and returned home yesterday. It was a nice, long break, made even nicer by the fact that we didn't have to break the bank to go and by the fact that we were able to go just the two of us. We haven't had that sort of extended getaway in a long time, probably since before we had children. So it was nice to have time to really relax in an environment we love. We ate out, talked uninterrupted, watched American Choppers and Pawn Stars, shopped at Bass Pro and Bath and Body Works, walked for miles and miles in the surf, slept until we woke up (does 7:30 still count as "sleeping in"?), drank coffee, put shrimp in our salads, cooked frozen skillet meals, ate fresh mangoes and papayas, swam in the pool, did our devotions in a beach chair, read, napped, took a glass-bottomed boat ride over a reef, and in general reminded ourselves of all the reasons we got married in the first place. We simply love being together and can't imagine life apart. Life is hectic and harried sometimes, so it's good to go the beach to celebrate the other part.

We also spent all day going exploring in the Everglades and Big Cypress National Parks. And if anyone tells you that alligators are "endangered," don't you believe it. There were alligators in every pool and canal, lying in every culvert and under every bush. We saw over a hundred just in the little places that we walked through. Babies, adults, and great big monsters of the water. Gators were everywhere! I was amazed that the alligators would let me get as close as I did to them, and even more amazed that there aren't more rules, park rangers, and fences preventing such foolishness. We also saw hundreds of fish of every shape and size, turtles (including one immense snapping turtle), plus four varieties of herons, egrets, massive eagle nests, anhingas, black vultures, purple gallinules, giant grasshoppers, gumbo limbo and strangler fig trees, orchids, bromeliads, mango and papaya orchards (we stopped for a fresh papaya milkshake), and more gators. Overall, the area was much different than I expected. I was thinking giant live oaks and cypress trees, not mangrove swamps and oceans of sawgrass. But it was amazing, nonetheless. Oh, and in case you needed any reminders not to ever hang your feet off a dock in Florida, I hope you enjoy this photo.

We missed our kids like crazy by the week's end, so it was great to know that they weren't missing us overly much. They were too busy living it up at Grandma and Grandpa's house. They spent their days making banana splits, watching movies on a giant "screen" outside under the stars (with full surround sound, no less!), holding the various members of a new litter of puppies, swimming in the pond, having enough Nutella to affect the stock price, playing in the playhouse, riding the Mule (a 4x4 golf cart), and in general running amok. Still, when we got back, they remembered that they missed us, and were all happy to be headed home. At least, all except Ashley, who is happily spending "just a few more days" by herself at Chez Horn. (We agreed to let her do this because we are aware that in a family like ours, time for "just me" to do something is a rare occurrence. Nathan got his turn last summer. This is Ashley's year. Hopefully, we'll be able to do the same for Sara and John in years to come.)

So to sum up: We had a blast. We felt incredibly blessed. We are glad to have gone and glad to be home.

Mushrooms

I am an inexpert mushroom hunter, at best. I always seem to miss whenever the peak time and place is, managing to find a few, but not the sacks full that I hear other people talk about. (In this, my mushroom hunting is like my fishing - I always "should have been here yesterday" or "last week," or whenever the hot time was). And of course, the location of such places as they grow in those quantities are more closely guarded than the nuclear football.

Still, yesterday Nate and I took the opportunity to tromp through the woods at a dear friend's house. We came home wet and muddy, with a bag full of 1 dozen farm eggs from her hen house, three rusty shotgun shell hulls for his "collection," one old tree stand strap (which I wouldn't trust my body to, but which will be perfect for riveting on some hooks to hang stuff within easy reach in the tree stand), and a good pair of sunglasses. We did not come home with any morels, but making a memory with my son seems like a good trade.

On ice cream and favoritism

One of my greatest joys is seeing my children start to put together the pieces of their own faith. Karen and I have had lots of good conversations with our kids, often in the car or just before bed. Last night was another occasion for another conversation. Karen's van was out of gas, so I drove it to the Cub Scout Pack Meeting last night, thinking that John and I could get gas on the way home.

Pack meeting was fun, as usual, and I suggested to John as we got back into the van that maybe we could get an ice cream bar at the gas station when we filled up. He proceeded to thank me for offering, and then asked, "Well, what about Sara and Ashley and Nathan?" I told him that since they weren't with me, they probably wouldn't get anything. He then proceeded to tell me that, in that case, he'd rather not have anything, because that would be favoritism, like Jacob did with his kids, and "Favoritism is bad, Daddy. And you love us all the same, don't you?"

I assured him that I did, but inside I was pretty impressed that the kid is taking his faith so seriously. After all, what kid turns down an ice cream bar, even if his siblings probably aren't getting one? And then goes on to question his Dad about favoritism?

So tonight, I'm stopping off at Kroger on the way home to pick up a box of ice cream bars...