Posted in Grace

Seeing grace in new ways

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko at pexels.com

My friend J was sitting on a bench outside of church this morning. I had a few minutes between the middle school Sunday School class I taught and the worship service. I sat next to him and said, “Hey, J, it’s Bill. How are you doing?”

J is blind. He replied, “Well, to be honest, I’ve had better weeks. I’ve been struggling with anger issues again.”

“It’s not easy dealing with anger.”

He went on, ” I’m mostly angry about things that have been taken from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“For example, at the complex where I live. They’ve changed the way you get into the laundry area. They installed an electronic touch pad. I can’t operate that.”

I said, “They must have had the push buttons with raised bumps on them before.”

“Yeah. And they changed how you use the machines. You can’t put quarters in anymore. You have to swipe a credit card. And then there’s another touch pad to tell it what to do. I can’t use that.”

I don’t blame him for being angry. I think J is in his forties, and he has never been able to see. He lives on his own and church members pick him up every week so he can attend worship and an evening bible class. He supports himself working at a pizza place across from the beach. About a year ago J shared how his apartment complex moved the trash dumpsters without letting him know. That was frustrating, too.

I rarely think about the obstacles a blind person deals with every day. Eyes are critical in a world filled with smart phones, laptops, cars, and video games. I should be grateful for all my senses.

J is one of several blind people who come to worship each week. He has been a part of the church’s outreach to a nearby training institute for the blind. I don’t think the church ever pursued that ministry, but we know God opened up that door anyway.

I’m thankful for J and how he helps me see God’s grace in new ways.

Posted in driving

Keep your distance

Posted on by William Douthwaite

If you look carefully, you’ll see that the light is red. There are two cars stopped ahead of me. And then there is this car just to my right, twenty-five feet from the intersection. As we wait, she doesn’t inch forward until the light turns to green. “Uh-oh,” I think to myself. I’ll bet she’s going to try to merge in my lane when we start moving.

But she doesn’t. I leave room, but she makes no move. I watch carefully, but she keeps going straight, even after I turn left at another light about a thousand feet ahead.

So, as I often do, I wonder, “What is going on here?”

  • Maybe she’s a super cautious driver. She wants to keep a safe distance from the intersection in case someone is crossing the street. Don’t you hate it when you have to walk around a car sticking it’s nose into the crosswalk?
  • She doesn’t want to tailgate. We all hate tailgaters, don’t we? Oh, wait, there’s no one ahead of her.
  • The obvious: she’s on the phone. Maybe she’s been on the phone, and still doesn’t notice that the people ahead of her drove away when the light turned green. Oblivious, she’s waiting through another cycle.
  • Did her car stall out? She could have been calling AAA at that moment. Cars break down in the worst possible situations, right?
  • Maybe she knows the people in the SUV ahead of me and was talking to them. The light is red, so she can’t go anywhere anyway.
  • She could be hallucinating. Maybe she sees two cars in front of her that no one else can see. Hmm.
  • Invisible cars ahead of her? The car’s automatic braking sensors knows there there. Stopped that car on a dime.
  • I’ve eaten in the car before. I remember driving a stick shift on the Garden State Parkway in New Jersey, tossing a token for the toll, and eating a cup of blueberry yogurt on my way to a class a Rutgers. Maybe she doesn’t multitask well, and a snack distracted her.
  • Was she lost? Was she trying to get Google Maps to give her directions?
  • One more. It’s an malfunctioning autonomous car. There ‘s a bug in the software, so there she sits.

I never know what I’m going to see on the road.

Posted in Food

One ranch to rule them all

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Ranch dressing was on my shopping list last week. My wife and I don’t eat a whole lot of it, but the grandchildren sure do. They don’t eat a lot of salad, but they love to put it on other things. Like pizza. I find this puzzling, but one grandson first sprinkles parmesan cheese on his slice, followed by red peppers, and then a healthy squirt of ranch dressing. A granddaughter loves to eat rice smothered in ranch dressing. Some dip a burger or grilled cheese into a puddle of ranch on their plate. Not to mention pretzels and chips. Before you know it, we need to buy more.

I never noticed it before, but Walmart and other stores have shelves and shelves filled with all makes and models of ranch dressing. I had my choice of the original Hidden Valley Farms, Ken’s, Kraft, Great Value generic, Marie’s, Newman’s Own, and a bunch more. I could choose lite, vegan, fat free, organic, or plant powered. Bonus flavors include cheesy, jalapeno, parmesan, pickle, and garlic. Next, what size do I want? They have them all from tiny dipping cups to squeeze bottles to restaurant sized jugs. I can take home a packet of spices and mix it up myself. Or sprinkle ranch seasoning on anything and everything.

I remember when ranch dressing became popular in the seventies. In 1992 it surpassed Italian as the most popular salad dressing in America. Now it occupies about half of the salad dressing section of the grocery store.

I’ll reach for it once in a while, but I’m not a huge fan of creamy dressings. I most often choose a balsamic vinegar or mix up my own Good Seasons Italian copycat recipe.

Posted in geocache

My first geocache

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve heard of geocaching but never thought much about it until Rob Walker mentioned it in The Art of Noticing. Wikipedia’s description says “Participants use a Global Positioning System receiver or mobile device and other navigational techniques to hide and seek containers, called geocaches or caches, at specific locations marked by coordinates all over the world.” The first cache was placed in 2000.

I never thought there would be a cache in my part of the world. But you never know. So I got the free app and learned that there are some caches near my home. Now I’m curious. I’ve got to try this some day.

Today was the day. I was out running errands and decided I would seek out my first cache. According to the little map on the app, it was right outside the library. I pulled into a parking spot and saw that I was seventy-five feet from the geocache.

There is no description of what it looks like. That’s part of the fun. You have to search for it. I walked under a tree at the northeast corner of the library and my phone buzzed. I was at the location.

Was it hanging from a tree? Sticking out of the ground? Was it in an official looking container? I had no idea.

Something red caught my eye. A plastic Folgers coffee container. Probably just some trash. Except on the side someone had written in marker, “This is not trash.” Ah-ha. I’ll bet that’s it. On the other side it said, “This is a geocache.” Found it. I was expecting something official looking. But I guess any container works.

Inside was a ziplock bag containing a small booklet and a pen to record when you found it. I added my user name and the date to the list of those who had found it before me, and put it back in the container. There were also some blue and purple Mardi Gras beads inside. Apparently, some like to leave a little trinket. Next time I’ll bring one of my cool painted rocks.

And that’s it. My first geocache. According to the app map, there are about ten more in town. This one wasn’t too tough. I’ll bet others are more challenging.

Posted in dogs

No, you’re not getting a ride

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Japheth Revelo on Unsplash

We take our dogs for a lot of walks, typically once in the morning and then again in the evening. Rather than letting them wrestle on the sofa, we’re willing to put in the miles so that the Great Dane and the Westie can burn off some energy.

Yesterday we passed a woman and her chihuahua we’ve seen many times. This time, though, she was carrying the dog. He couldn’t have weighed more than three pounds, so she could manage. I’m sure there are good reasons why you would carry rather than walk your dog. Like hip problems or hot asphalt. After she turned the corner, our big dog’s eyes seemed to say, “How come you never carry me?”

I knew what she was thinking and said, “Forget it. You weigh sixty pounds and you’re only five months old!”

Another person we often see on our walks pushed her small dog in a stroller. The look on his face said, “Suckers!” Once again, I got a glance from the Great Dane.

“Forget it. Even if they did make a stroller that big, I’m not sure I could push you very far.”

Towards the end of a walk, we came up on a woman pushing a fussy toddler in a stroller. Once the little girl caught a glimpse of our dogs, she stopped screaming and pointed. However as we got closer her eyes got bigger when she saw just how big the doggie was. I told my wife, it’s just a matter of time before the question, “Can we pet your dog?” become, “Can we ride your dog?”

And then, on our way to walking out and back over a bridge, we wondered, “Do you think they make car seats big enough for a Great Dane?” We’ve seen some nice ones that keep smaller dogs from scrambling from the back seat to the front.

I said, “I don’t think they make a big enough car!” Good thing the van has a sun roof. And it’s good to be in Florida where it’s easy to get out walking year round.

Posted in wildlife

Hunting lizards

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After spending the night with us, my eight-year-old grandson couldn’t wait to get up this morning to hunt for lizards in our yard. He put together a small habitat for them by putting soil, rocks, a stick, and a bottle cap full of water into a used plastic cashew container. He punched a few holes in the lid and was ready to start rounding them up.

Plenty of lizards were up early to catch some sun on our fence, garden wall, and backyard trees. But catching them was tough. They are fast. If you happen to get a tail between your fingers, it often breaks off as the lizard escapes.

He had much better luck with a red solo cup. Sneaking up to a green species, he quickly covered it, slid a piece of cardboard between the cup and the fence, and had his first catch of the day. He placed the cup over the opening of the jar and pulled away the cardboard, introducing the reptile to his new home. Once the top was screwed on, it was time to figure out what to feed this guy.

My grandson said, “Now I have to find some bugs to feed him.”

I said, “That’s going to be tough. Maybe he would eat some lettuce. I’ll get you some.”

He snuck a piece of green leaf lettuce into the container, and we sat down to watch. By this time, the lizard, sitting on the soil, had turned brown. “Cool, a chameleon!” I don’t know if this was actually a chameleon, but he was good at blending into his environment.

I cautioned, “Make sure you leave the container in the shade.” It was already a warm day, and I knew direct sunlight would be too warm. We found a shady spot in a planter near the house.

Occasionally, we would go back out and look at him. He would look back at us. We think he took a bite of the lettuce leaf.

After my grandson went home, I took the lid off the container. I don’t know when he’ll be back. I figured if the lizard likes it there, he can stay. Or he can roam around the yard and return home at night. Or he can just go free. We can always catch another one.

Both my grandchildren and my dogs love to hunt lizards. I guess the word hasn’t gotten out that our yard isn’t a safe place to hang out.

Posted in children, toys

Tired of toys, so they played with rocks

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Ramazan Ilyasov on Unsplash

We had our three granddaughters – ages 5, 3, and one – spend the night with us last Friday. We’ve got enough toys at our house to start a preschool, so I knew they would stay busy.

The most popular toys on our shelves have always been the popular toys. The first bin they open is the pretend food, especially the ice cream cones. In minutes, they are ready to take orders and serve up everything from burgers to eggs to ice cream sundaes. The ring of a small bell is followed by, “Order up!” over and over and over again.

They always pull out the toy power tools, too. They are all about do-it-yourself with a jigsaw, drill, reciprocating saw, and a flashlight. Everything in the house is subject to repair or remodeling.

We’ve got a basket of baby toys for the one-year-old, but everyone else likes to play with these, too. Rattles, plastic stacking donuts, and colorful shaky-things keep all ages busy.

On this occasion, they pulled out the dress-up dolls. I haven’t seen these for a while. Hundreds of clothing combinations magnetically stick to the figures. They also end up all over the floor.

But then the older girls discovered the rocks in the backyard garden. Naturally, they started a rock collection. Most of the 1-1/2 inch white river rocks look the same. But before you know it, their collect filled five small plastic baskets.

Doesn’t everyone collect rocks as a kid? Egg cartons make the perfect display cases. A creek just beyond the backyard was the best place to find rocks when I was growing up. My friends and I were fascinated with the mica and shale we could peel into thin slices. We brought home all shapes and sizes of quartz. Since we learned about the hardness scale in school, we felt quite knowledgable about rocks.

Collecting rocks is more difficult in Florida. The soil is sandy and almost rock-free. So we buy decorative rocks to put in our yards. And for kids to play with.

For some reason, kids love to play with rocks. When we are young we just have to throw them. We toss them up in the air, at each other, or, of course towards a window, until our parents step in to ruin our fun. The grandsons have been taking our landscape rocks and tying them to the end of sticks with some palmetto leaf strips to make hammers and axes. My backyard is littered with the little survivalists’ collection of tools and weapons.

Parents and grandparents spend a lot of money on toys. We could save a few bucks if we watched what the children really play with: a boxes, sticks, and rocks!

Posted in Life

The magic of the dawn

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Even the dogs noticed how loudly the birds were singing. The cardinals led today’s chorus, greeting the dawn with such enthusiasm that both dogs looked up with curiosity. I’ll bet they wondered, “Who else is up this early?” A few blocks away, mourning doves called back and forth. Bluebirds chirped from the overhead wires.

The air was still as the neighborhood came alive with sound. The smallest bit of orange tinted the eastern horizon. I saw one light in the sky, a planet. The stars had called it a night.

We left the house about 6 am. Lots of outdoor lights were on, but the insides of most of the houses were still dark. Less than a quarter mile down the road we pass a home that is bathed in blue light. Blue lights are on either side of the front door, line the driveway, and shine up into the trees. Yes, I can tell you support law enforcement.

We’ve walked a mile and a half before the first car passes, doing at least 50 on this long, straight stretch of road. Probably a preacher, anxious to get to church and practice his sermon. The truck that slowly pulls into a driveway is someone getting home from work. It’s tough to work an overnight shift.

Some people still have cans lying on the front lawn two days after trash collection. There are seven cars parked in a circular driveway in front of another home. They must have a lot of guests for the weekend. A pile of wood from a discarded fence is still piled on the curb. I wonder when someone will haul that away.

About forty minutes into our walk, we notice the squirrels and bunnies. I notice the blue, cloudless sky. When did daytime get here? When did the night sneak away? That moment is part of the magic of the dawn.

Posted in grandfather, grandparenting, gratitude

The blessing of overnight grandchildren

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Edson Saldaña on Unsplash

“We have the girls Friday night.”

The “girls” are three granddaughters, ages five, three, and one. We’ve had the older two for a sleepover before. This is the first time for all three.

But we raised three children. Along with three dogs. Come on, how hard could it be? We’ve got bunk beds. We’ve got a port-a-crib for the little one. Tons of toys. And snacks. Oh, boy, do we have snacks! Three girls? Overnight? Bring it!

We met at our usual rendezvous spot, a Dunkin’ parking lot half-way between our homes. The handoff included a double-wide stroller, a backpack full of clothes, and essential stuffed animals.

So far, so good.

By the way, we also have some dogs. One big dog, a five month old Great Dane and a smaller dog, a West Highland white terrier. The girls are used to a big Florida brown dog at home. But they aren’t used to ours, a Great Dane puppy and a overly-friendly West Highland white terrier. This is going to be a challenge.

The older two immediately got to work on pretend food, magnetic dress up dolls, and a basket full of baby toys. For some reason, older kids are still fascinated by plastic donuts, rattles, and small stuffed animals. Number three? Her scream was pretty clear: “How about some food?”

After some back yard swinging, it was time for supper. Unicorn-shaped Kraft macaroni and cheese, sliced strawberries, and a fewraspberries kept everyone happy. Unlike the grandsons, there were no desperate pleas for post-supper popcorn. After brushing teeth, we read a few stories, and the three were off to bed. They all must have been tired, because I didn’t hear a peep from any of them.

I got up early Saturday morning to feed and walk the dogs as quietly as I could. I was amazed: no one woke up until about 7 am. Impressive.

“What do you want for breakfast?” All three agreed on pancakes. I cooked up a batch and each girl ate three drizzled with syrup. The one-year-old also ate a breakfast bar, a handful of Rice Krispies, and raspberries. The dogs did their job well, eating everything that fell to the floor.

Somehow, we got out the door by ten and headed to the Jacksonville zoo before we safely delivered them to their parents in the afternoon.

In the past few years, I’ve met couples who had no children. Which means no grandchildren. They would never experience a weekend like this. I’m thankful that we do. What a gift to hear the laughter ands screams, the requests and demands, and the prayers and the tears of these little ones.