Homeowner Regrets We Don't Have

Houses we didn't buy

When Dennis was transferred to Fort Campbell, we became first-time home-buyers.  We were living out of suitcases in a hotel room with two little children, and Dennis was working midnights.  And we had a limited number of days that we could stay in the hotel with our expenses paid.  Naturally enough, we were desperate to find a place quickly.

Could have moved to Dover...
 
After our first session with a realtor, we thought about buying a little house near Dover, TN. It was an older home, but the owner had remodeled it nicely. It sat on five acres, and it had a small horse barn. A little creek ran through the back yard, barely fifty feet behind the house. We liked the house, but it just didn't have enough bedrooms for us.

Now that I'm enlightened about how streams can rise in this country, I am thankful that we didn't buy that house. I'll bet that little stream gets out of its banks frequently. Every time it rained heavily, I would have worried about the kids falling into that flooded creek!

Could have moved to Lafayette...

We looked at another group of houses with another realtor, and we liked a little house in southwest Christian County, near Lafayette, KY. In some ways, it was the house I'd always wanted. It was white with a big front porch. The rooms were fairly large, and there was an old-fashioned feel to the place. However, there was hardly a tree on the five acres, and the neighbor just over the fence had the most junk piled in his yard that I've ever seen around a dwelling.

Despite its shortcomings, we tried to bid on that little white house, but someone else got a bid in first and bought it. It's just as well. The junky neighbor next door would have been a perpetual irritation, and without trees, that little house must have been like an oven in the summer sun.

But here we are, instead

Instead, we bought the house where we live -- a brick ranch house built in the 1960s. We've had various homeowner problems, but one thing we've never worried about is flooding. Our little property is located on the edge of a broad ridge. A steep quarter-mile downhill slope starts at the edge of our front lawn. Excess surface water can't help draining away. It gets soggy up here sometimes, but we'll never be flooded. 

Another thing we've never worried about is junky neighbors. Our two nearest neighbors are Mennonites. Their farmyards are quite tidy. We try to keep our grass mowed so they won't be embarassed when their Mennonite friends visit. Thank goodness we only mow about an acre. I wonder why we ever thought we wanted five acres?

When our children think back about their childhoods, I think they'll remember the trees here. Their playhouses were under the big old trees where the log house once stood. Their swing, hung from a high branch, carried them over the bank and high into the open air. They lay on the trampoline on summer evenings and watched the hummingbirds in the mimosa blossoms. They raked huge leaf piles in the fall and played in them.  And how could they forget all the acorns and tree seedlings their dad has planted and how the new trees have grown over the years?

This is the story of how God led us to a house that was right for us. It's not a palace, but it was a good place for our kids to grow up.  We hope to continue living here for quite a while.  Now that we own the place free and clear,  Dennis says the only way they're moving him out of here is in a pine box.

Stuffed Animals and Happy Childhoods

Wants, needs, and deprivations

A few days ago, I was in line at a store behind a lady and her granddaughter. The little girl had a stuffed animal, and she was whining and wheedling for the grandmother to buy it.

The pleading reached an emotional crescendo as Grandmother unloaded her purchases at the cash register. At the very end of the transaction, she bought the stuffed animal and handed it to her granddaughter. The little girl's tears vanished, a smile appeared, and (thank goodness!) a sudden quiet fell upon our little corner of the store.

The woman turned to me and explained that she never had a stuffed animal when she was a child. She wouldn't have dared to ask for one. That's why she buys stuffed animals for her granddaughter, she said. She has sixty stuffed animals in her home; some are for her grandchildren, but some are just for herself.

I don't remember a stuffed animal that belonged exclusively to me when I was little. My sister had a teddy bear, and I think there was a stuffed horse in the toy box that my mom had made. It didn't bother me not to have a personal stuffed animal. I had various dolls, and they were enough.

My children had dozens of stuffed animals that they had received as gifts from friends and relatives. I wonder if the popularity of stuffed animals as a gift suggests a repressed yearning amongst adults. Or do adults like to give stuffed animals so they can feel virtuous about giving a toy without batteries? Then again, maybe adults like stuffed animals simply because we have a biological predisposition to respond to big-eyed, soft, baby-sized critters.

It is sad to think of children who don't have many toys. My parents grew up during the Depression, and like many people their age, they didn't have many frivolities in their lives when they were children. My mother had one beloved dolly. My dad remembered blocks of wood to play with instead of toys, and an orange as his only Christmas gift. And there were other, much more serious lacks and losses and stresses and sorrows in their little lives.

When my parents married, they decided they would create a happy home together. As I look back at the childhood they gave me, it's hard for me to feel deprived about much of anything. (Well, I should admit that I felt deprived when I was a child because we didn't have a television. However, I've come to think of that as an advantage.)
______________

Millions of children are truly deprived. Many lack the most basic necessities of life. Your generosity can make a big difference in their lives. Please consider a donation to a reputable charity that helps children.

Flower Power

Still having fun

I saw a lady of unquenchable spirit today. This little elderly lady, the lady of unquenchable spirit, came into the store, leaning heavily on her cane. It was clear that she needed its support.

It was equally obvious that she had given her cane some pizazz. It was decorated from top to bottom with silk flowers, feathers, ribbons, and even a little flag, all in a red, white, and blue theme.

A little girl stared at the lady's wonderful walking stick, and the lady paused to let her see it better. I heard her explain to the little girl's mother that she'll change to an autumn theme in a few weeks.

When the time comes that I need a cane, I think my cane will have flower power, too. Yes, it will be decorated with cascades of imagination and flourishes of bravado, and it will flutter a little as I walk. The grandkids will like it.

How to Apply for a Kentucky Historical Marker

Highway signs for historic sites

The Kentucky Historical Society is accepting applications for historical markers.  To have a historic site considered for a highway sign that describes its significance, complete the application before October 1, 2008. Fifteen applications will be selected.

The fee for a highway marker is $2,075 for a one-sided marker and $2,300 for a two-sided marker. This fee has increased from last year due to the rising cost of maintenance, which includes the cost for replacements, missing or severely damaged markers, new posts, or refurbishing.

Read the full news release for more details. Kentucky has over 2000 historical markers along its streets and highways.  You can browse or search through them at the Kentucky Historical Marker Database.

Corn Silks and Tassels

Tasseling and detasseling

About three weeks ago, I stopped along Old Highway 68/80, east of Hopkinsville, and took this photo of the Little River Valley. In the distance, a field of corn is growing in the rich bottom land along the river. It appears as a yellow patch because all the corn plants were tasseling (blooming). The tassel is the male flower of the corn plant.

The cornfield was also full of female flowers (little corn ears-to-be), though they aren't visible in the photo.  Each one had its silks (ovary extensions) ready to receive and transport the pollen. Each silk was connected to an ovule (kernel-to-be) on the ear that began to grow as soon as it was fertilized.

Pollen grain germination occurs within minutes after a pollen grain lands on a receptive silk. A pollen tube, containing the male genetic material, develops and grows inside the silk, and fertilizes the ovule within 24 hours. Pollen grains can land and germinate anywhere along the length of an exposed receptive silk. Many pollen grains may germinate on a receptive silk, but typically only one will successfully fertilize the ovule.

Source: "Silk Emergence" at the Corny News Network

When hybrid seed corn is grown, two varieties of corn are planted in a field, but only one variety is allowed to tassel. The tassels on the other variety are removed manually (often by teenagers who need a summer job) and/or by machine, or sometimes a corn variety with sterile tassels is planted.

The ears that grow on the detasseled plants will have hybrid seeds (kernels) -- a cross between two varieties. All of the corn kernels from ears on the tasseled plants are simply "chips off the old block", now a little more inbred.

After the corn tassels, the whole energy of the plant is devoted to growing the ear/s of corn and filling the kernels with all the nutrient and genetic material it will need for germination. The plant will not develop any more leaves or get any taller.