If Bosnia were home.

I enjoyed a visit with my friend who lives in Bosnia. We went to Walmart for last minute treats to take back home. She is very sad that she can no longer take her genuine Dublin Dr. Pepper on the plane with her. She said it was a good thing she wasn't flying on the day they made everyone dump their liquids. They wouldn't have been able to pry her D.P. out of her hands and would have had to take her to jail. Not the best reference for a missionary.

Interesting thought: what would I take to Bosnia if I had a fifty pound weight limit. She took mint chocolate chips, canned biscuits, powdered Gatorade, cornbread mix and frozen cookie dough. Also Community brand coffee for some Louisiana ex-pats. On some trips she has taken Pace picante sauce, and a tortilla iron(a true act of love since it weighs about 8lbs. all by itself). I'm not sure what I would take but I have a feeling chocolate would top the list. I know people love the chocolate of other countries, but I dance with the one who brung me. Hershey's milk chocolate is the flavor of my youthful Trick or Treating. Also the once-a-year-impulse-purchase of a fourth of a pound of chocolate stars at the Montgomery Ward candy counter. Of course, Nestle when it has to be Crunch. And keep your traitorous raisins away from my chocolate, and my cookies while we're at it.

My life is a saga

My life is a saga, or perhaps a series of unfortunate events, or maybe more like Keystone Kops. I have children, four boys and a girl. I have 86% raised them(the youngest is fourteen). I know what to do with children. So when my friend needed someone to look after her two boys aged 2 and 4 for an afternoon I was happy to volunteer. The boys, Small and Smaller, came to my house and we proceeded to explore the outdoors. We fed the fish in the pond and I sat in the gazebo and watched them romp in the puddles in the grass from the recent rain. After an hour or so it occurred to me that I didn't really have permission for them to get wet. I herded them in for a sip of juice and a quick bath. At this point I noticed that Smaller was wearing an orthopedic device on his foot. Rats! It appeared to be okay. I hastily cleaned and dried it. I put the boys into t-shirts and sent them upstairs to play. I threw their clothes into the wash and started on the shoes. I can't explain what happened next except to say that I temporarily lost my mind. I put the shoes into my brand new dryer without first scraping the mud off of them. My son then came to inform me that Smaller perhaps wasn't finished with his toilet training. I raced upstairs to find the boys playing happily amongst a rather loose stool. I grabbed a towel and gathered up Smaller for his second bath of the afternoon. Back upstairs to try to clean up the rest of the mess. Paper towels, Lysol, some carpet cleaner, the t-shirt was beyond salvage. Then it was time to get the shoes out of the dryer. I opened the door and saw a fine thin coating of mud baked onto the entire surface of the dryer. And still damp shoes. I pulled the shoes out and fetched more paper towels, Lysol, bleach, possibly muratic acid. I was able to get them back into their own clothes but when they requested a movie, I totally caved. I don't intend to use t.v. as a babysitter, but I was exhausted.