your "once in a blue moon" opportunity

Tonight is the night. If only do something “once in a blue moon,” here’s your chance. There’s a blue moon out.

It happens every two and a half years, or so, but sometimes twice in three months. It’s a second full moon in one calendar month. Do the math.

And about as common as recent entries here. The silence has been for good reason. More about that soon.

Since the moon rises after our two youngests’ bedtime and sets before even one of them rises, I’m taking bets on whether or not Dy or I take the trouble to get them up to glimpse the astronomical non-oddity around midnight. And about how clear the sky will be.

Blue moon blessings – jdata

Advertisement

thunder-struck in the blizzard

At least five times in the last fifteen minutes, lightning has flashed past our windows and thunder has boomed amid the howling winds making a mess of our day’s shoveling. So I’m posting wirelessly for the moment, from the comfort of my own bedroom – could get used to this. [Posting delayed a few minutes by incompatibility between the blogging service’s normal posting page and the mobile device I use.]

Dy casually reminds me this is the third instance of “thunder snow” we’ve seen since moving here thirteen months ago. Arey noted her stomach rumbled in unison with one of the outdoor rumbles.

One of the online weather services we monitor (not the generally more reliable) predicted a 3% probability of lightning tonight – right at the threshold that used to keep us and office teammates unplugging in the wilds of the U.P. There we lived and worked on a spit of land out in Lake Huron, ready with generator backup, and other teammates handled the snow plowing professionally.

The urban still experience creation’s oddities, just in a more diverse community. A couple of coworkers who heard the blizzard forecast this morning after moving here from California immediately free associated the Dairy Queen treats.

At least we have a shorter driveway than previously in Illinois, though it’s wider… Better rest up for the inevitable morning digging out – hopefully in time to get at least one of us to church. – j

a fall on ice, a fall in a river

Each morning Dy or I walk part of the way with A.J. and Tee toward their school. Earlier this week the sidewalks were patchy with ice. It’s been well washed away by soaking rains, including last evening’s thundershowers.

There’s not much A.J. likes more than trying out the stiffness of a puddle – the deeper the better. But these patches were paper thin and nearly invisible.

Predictably, one got the best of A.J.’s balance. Tee and I stopped and before I could bend down to help him up the tears burst forth. Not for physical pain, thanks to winter clothing, backpack, coat hood and an under-four-foot drop – just a wounded sense of safety.

Hauling him to his feet, as the tears kept pouring loudly, I tried to take his mind off the immediate with a story. “You should get mom to tell you about the time she watched me fall out of a boat and how I ended up flat on my back on top of a river rock.” It didn’t take more than that prompt to raise multiple questions from both kids. No, it didn’t really hurt at the time. Yes, my feet were still in the raft. Dy was in the same raft on the Colorado River and helped haul me back in after I’d been tossed out. Before too many more careful steps, I got to show them the tiny scar left on my right thumb knuckle. Then it was time to see them off to the care of the crossing guard – and the Lord of all learners and teachers.

Still learning a lot about fatherhood…along with being a husband, the variety of churches, human resources nomenclature and databases, distributing Outlook custom forms, information technology project management and working in a multi-departmental office – j