As the name of my blog indicates, I spend a lot of time thinking about home. Of course, my Heavenly Home is the one that is eternal, so that’s where I need to lay up my treasures, and that’s the one I’m striving for. But in the meantime, I have been given this tiny piece of the here-and-now—this home on the edge of town, this family, this neighborhood—in which to serve Him. And, though this is in the earthly realm, I want the things that happen here to be investments in the Heavenly realm.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Sunday Snapshots: Random

~ It was a warmish November day today.  We had planned to build a fire in the firepit and roast some of those new ginormous marshmallows per Maddie's request, but it was quite breezy and Papa decided that it was better to be safe than sorry.  No fire, no fly away embers, no sugar coma.  Instead, the children played outside for hours, and were granted permission to have a Twilight Picnic of peanut butter sandwiches and yougurt, back at the edge of the woods.  They sat on a  large tree stump and covered part of it with a flannel sheet to serve as the table.  Bekah was the picnic photographer.

~ While most of the youngsters were at the Twilight Picnic, I dressed this sweet thing in her jammies and read her a story. 

~ Before her ride home, the sweet thing reached for a lollipop that Aunt Kati was holding.  Maybe she knew she had been deprived of her ginormous marshmallow?

~ Now I have to tell you the background of the next snapshot. 

This week, Bekah noticed some marks on the chimney in our living room.  On closer inspection, she discovered that these marks were letters...f, a, n, g.  Fang? 

Can you see them? 

How about now?

I remembered that my son had a propensity to autograph all sorts of things when he was a boy--books, my grocery list, furniture, walls.  He once penciled his name, R-y-a-n, on his bedroom wall with the n carrying on in a line that lasted for three walls.  When we questioned him, he claimed that it was "an accident." 

I wondered if he was the engraver of these chimney letters. 

So tonight when he called us, we asked him if he knew anything about the word "fang" written on the chimney.  Laughing, he said, "I don't remember writing it there." 

Come to find out, Fang was his self-appointed nickname back in the day, when he had a fascination with wolves and wolf sketches.  So "Fang" had autographed the chimney...and had gotten away with it for approximately twenty years.  We decided that the statute of limitations had expired, especially since we all got a lot of laughs out of the story.  Besides, Ryan said that he's sure it was "an accident."  ~smile~

He also suggested that, since it was pencil and could be erased, it would probably be reduced to a misdemeanor anyway.  But I figure that if "Fang" has gone twenty years unnoticed, I'll just leave it there. 


  1. How fun to meet and get acquainted over this post! I love the "fang" story. Soooooooo funny (now). I'm sure it wasn't fun to find inscriptions on walls, etc. back "in the day"!

  2. Funny!

    FANG! Don't you love boys?

    What fun with your family...


  3. Wonder if Ryan is the one who scratched the letter M onto our van and Brian's truck? No one takes the credit here.

  4. You are so great Cheryl! The grandmother to sweet little things... I want one! The giver of twilight picnics, the indian giver of ginormous marshmallows, and the generous mother of a forgiven Fang...

    I so wish you were close enough to play with!

    Blessings, Debbie

  5. I too find autographs in very unexpected places....not yet on my fireplace bricks, though!

  6. I get tickled every time I think about Fang writing his name on the chimney. :)


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