My Not Normal Cat

Awhile back I stumbled across a cat who was not quite normal. Right away I noticed that she doesn't really use her front right paw. It looks fine and all, but she chooses not to use it. Also, her purr is a bit messed up. It kind of sounds like a lawnmower that doesn't run but tries to. And she is so skinny she looks like string covered in fur. But, best of all, she is polydactyl, which is a fancy way of saying that she has extra toes on her paws. How could I not love her immediately? Extra. Toes.

I let her live in my yard since Makenna transforms into a red-faced mess when cats are around. I fed the skinny, limping cat with extra toes, and I pet her and talked to her and named her Meeka. She is adorable.

I thought I was doing a great job of nursing her to health because her string body began to look more like a rope. Then it looked like a tree branch, and I patted myself on the back. Then it began to look like she had swallowed a balloon, and I realized she was full of kittens. Now she looks like her belly might explode, and she limps around just looking miserable. So I declared that the screened-in porch is hers, and she is queen. She has blankets and food and water, and she sits atop her pillow purring her messed up purr.

Things are about to get exciting.

Trouble in Florida

"I'm sorry the business part of the trip went so badly," I told Mike as we dashed in and out of traffic on our way to the airport. We had spent three stressful days in Florida attempting to complete some business, which ended up being a complete waste of time and effort.
"It's okay," he mumbled, still recovering. "At least we were treated to a theme park. It still makes me laugh that you chose Harry Potter."
"OH MY GOSH, it was one of the best days of my life!"
"You were like a twelve-year-old."
"Thanks for buying me a wand."
"Like I could resist after seeing how giddy you were."
"Do we have to fill the car with gas before turning it back in?"
"Yeah, but we are really pushing it time-wise. If we miss our flight, I might actually sit on the floor and cry."

"There is supposed to be a gas station at the next exit."

There wasn't. And the exit took us ten minutes out of our way before we were able to point our car toward the airport and drive as if we were competing for a NASCAR championship.

"Can you check my emails?" Mike asked handing me his phone. "I don't think I got the usual email reminding us of the departure time, so maybe we leave later than I thought."

I looked at the screen and then I rubbed my eyes and looked again. My mouth formed words, but no sound came out.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked. "Did we miss it? Are we too late?"
"What is the date?" I whispered.
"July 30th."
"In that case, we are two hours and seven days early." I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help it.
"What?"
"It says our departure is for the same time we thought, but on August 6th."
"What?"
"We totally should have gotten a multiple day pass to Harry Potter."

Obnoxiously Rich

Summer is a time for traveling and bonding as a family. So recently all six of us crammed into Drake's Buick Le Sabre and headed out of town. This car was given to Drake by his great-grandma, and was the one car that would fit the entire family. And I don't mean we all fit in the sense that we all had a seat, I mean it was physically possible to squeeze six bodies into the space. If we had gone for a ride across town that way, it would have been mildly uncomfortable. Going to another state that way gave our chiropractor job security. The car came with a Susan Boyle album stuck in the CD player, so we listened to It's A Perfect Day over and over, and Drake and Josiah - who ride together a lot - knew all the words and sang along.

The discomfort of the car made the comfort of the airplane seem not so bad, and when we landed in Hawaii, no amount of soreness could have wiped the smiles off our faces. We couldn't spin our heads fast enough, taking in all the sights. The first five days, we attacked the island of Kauai like passionate researchers determined to leave no space unexplored. Then our minds accepted the fact that we were on vacation, and we actually began to relax. We hiked to waterfalls, learned to surf, jumped off of cliffs, explored caves, sacrificed our bodies to crushing waves, and, best of all, spent the entire time together.























I fortuitously snapped a picture of the boys getting pummeled by a wave when they clearly didn't expect it. Josiah is mid-sentence, and the back of Drake's head was hit so hard, his hair forms a halo straight out in all directions. The picture of the kids jumping off the cliff gives me heart palpitations.

"Remember when we tried to cancel this trip because we couldn't afford it?" Mike asked on our last evening.
"I'm so glad we came," I said. "We might be paying on it for the next ten years, but this will be one of the memories I replay when I look back on my life."
"It has been perfect."
"I think it is the highlight of my life so far."

We had an amazing trip and saw glorious sights. We were adventurous and lazy.

We were together.

I feel obnoxiously rich from the memories we've created.

Aloha

"Hey," Mike said to me a hundred years ago on our second anniversary, "I got one of those credit cards that gives you flying miles. I think we should use it all the time and save the miles to take a really incredible trip together someday."

"Hey," Mike said to me slightly less than a hundred years ago, "now that we have a baby we should save up our miles and take her on an incredible trip before she graduates."

"Hey," Mike said to me at roughly the same time, "now that we have four kids we should use our credit card a whole lot more and save up as many miles as possible and hope to take an incredible trip with the whole family before they all graduate."

Over a year ago we realized our dream was coming true. By the time Makenna graduated we would have enough miles to take the whole family to Hawaii. We got on the computer and reserved a place to stay and told the butterflies in our stomach to settle down for a year. But life is hard, things go wrong, and times are tough. A few months ago we gave our bank account a stare down and it won. We could not afford our dream trip. We knew we would lose our deposit, but we counted our blessings and told the kids the trip was off.

"I'm calling the rental company in Hawaii," Mike told me with the phone pressed to his ear. "They sent me an email last month asking for a check, but I never sent one since we decided not to go. Then today I got an email saying our reservation is secure and they are expecting us. You didn't send a check did you?"
"No," I answered.
"Oh, hello," Mike said suddenly into the phone. "I gave up my reservation but got an email saying it
was still secure. It shouldn't be because I never sent a check."
"I can see here that your credit card was billed for the remaining balance," Hawaii lady said.
"No, that isn't possible," Mike told her. "The email specifically said not to use a credit card but to send a check. It said our reservation would be lost if a check was not received."
"Actually sir, the email states that a check is preferred and we would rather not use a credit card. However, since your credit card was used for the deposit, we charged it when a check was not received."
"I paid the deposit over a year ago!" Mike said, sweat beading on his forehead. "I didn't know you still had the card on file!"
"If you read the email again, I think you will see that it is clear."
"I'm reading it right now and I… oh," Mike said, deflated. "Okay, I see what you are saying. I just didn't read it that way. Can I just get refunded?"
"I'm sorry sir, but the payment is non refundable. I believe that is stated clearly in the email as well."
"Yes, but…"
"Sir? Are you still there?"
"Well…, …, …, aloha."

Aloha!

Lunchbox

"How long has your dog been missing?" the sheriff asked Makenna over the phone.
"Two days," she answered, teary eyed.
"I'll call if he shows up."
"Thank you."

"I've called the sheriff in Norwalk, Cumming, and Indianola," Makenna told me after hanging up.
"And Dad drove around calling his name for an hour last night," I said.
"If he knows he gets to go for a ride in the car, he will come running from miles away."
"I know. Let's drive around some more."
"Did you call the groomer?" Makenna asked.
"They usually call me whenever he shows up there. But I'll give them a call just incase."

"Hello," I said when the groomer picked up the phone. "You haven't happened to see Arrow have you?"
"He was here about ten minutes ago."
"He was?" I shouted.
"Yeah, we call him Lunchbox because he usually shows up around lunchtime and leaves after he eats."

Makenna and I bolted into her small pick up and drove to the groomer, behind the groomer, around the groomer with our windows down, shouting for Arrow. We offered him rides and treats. But he did not show up. We returned home deflated and sad.

As I was making supper I heard a bark. When I turned around, I saw a naughty husky, tail wagging, asking to come inside. I ran to the door and didn't even care that I coated the doorknob with sticky pizza dough - Arrow was back!

We hugged him and kissed him and told him he was terribly frustrating. We were mad and happy: we were mappy.

We sure do love our Lunchbox. 

Suddenly Sunny

"When do we leave to take your parents and Makenna to the airport?" Mike asked me Sunday afternoon.
"In thirty minutes."
"Why is Makenna going but Emery isn't?"
"Because Emery had to go to color guard camp for school."
"Isn't that over now?"
"Yes, but when they planned their trip they thought they were leaving earlier."
"So why doesn't Emery go along now that the dates work out?"

Emery spent the next twenty-five minutes running around the house throwing swimsuits and T-shirts into a small duffle bag. We arrived at the airport just in time and said a quick goodbye to the travelers. As I was scrounging for money to pay the parking attendant in order to leave the airport, my phone rang.

"Hello," I said, balancing the phone on my shoulder while collecting coins from my glove compartment.
"Why aren't you going to Florida too?" Makenna asked.
"What? When? What do you mean?"
"Emery and I are both going now. Why aren't you?"

Instead of exiting the airport parking lot, I transferred the car to long term parking while my mom bought my plane ticket and Mike rushed home to pack an assortment of my summer things and dash them back to the airport. Forty minutes later, still dressed for church and wondering what I had in my suitcase, I was on a plane headed for Florida.

I grew richer in relationships by giggling with my girls, playing games with my family, and jumping waves with my nieces. The call of the earth resonated inside of me and refreshed the depths of my spirit.

I accompanied my niece, Macy, to the calm ocean cove where fish were plentiful. I sat in the sun while she practically turned into a mermaid.
"Aunt Sharla," she said from behind her square mask, "do you want a turn?"
"No, I don't like snorkeling. All the fish freak me out."
"Aunt, Sharla," she asked twenty minutes later, "it's pretty awesome. Do you want a turn yet?"
"Nope," I assured her I was super content to breath in the salty air and play in the waves.
"Aunt Sharla," she said another twenty minutes later, "it's amazing. Do you want a turn?"
"Okay."

I put on her square mask and timidly braved the scary schools below the surface.

"Oh my word, this is amazing!" I shouted at her twenty minutes later. "I love snorkeling!"
"I knew it," she nodded.

Life turns on a dime.

Window Ninja

We have made for ourselves a challenge: the air conditioner shall be off. And when I say, "we" I mean, "those who pay the electric bill." We are not heartless, we will turn it on eventually. But we have a pond in our back yard in which sweaty kids can easily cool off. And we have a lot of windows.

We like to be responsible financially, but we are also lazy. Some of our windows are high up in a loft and shutting them requires the use of a ladder. Too. Much. Work. Sweating is just easier.

But, Iowa called our bluff. After sweating through the worst of the afternoon, mother nature rolled in a giant storm. There is no storm like the thunderstorms Iowa can produce after a muggy day. It cooled down 15 degrees in less than 5 minutes, and the air smelled like life and health.

But the windows.

Each person was assigned a set of windows to rush and close. I'm not sure why, but we chose Drake to shut the hard ones in the upper echelons of the loft. The poor kid had been sick and spent the day knocked out from NyQuill, but we had no mercy on him. To the loft he obediently ran.

But then he handled that task like a ninja: scaling the wall like a spider, holding himself in the window well by use of muscle alone, and floating down to earth unharmed.

I wonder how he would do it if he wasn't sick and drugged up on NyQuill.