Sometimes Mother Goose just goes out joy riding. When I was a youngster, we’d drive through the countryside, the dirt roads and sometimes the trails through the forests…just to go for a ride. We would look for deer in the fields at twilight, a gravel road with agate potential, a blueberry patch along the side of the road. Sometimes we went looking for “real estate”.

Back in the 60′s in the country parts of northern Minnesota, any random passerby could pull into the driveway of an abandoned house and walk right into the empty house. These “real estate” adventures comprise some of my fondest memories. With our parents and grandparents permission, we could go snooping around other people’s homes and lives — houses full of stuff were highly regarded as treasure to our family!

Imagine fully furnished homes just empty of people and left to the rages of time! I began my stamp collection from the abandoned mail of these homes. We also collected antique “Ball jars”, door knobs, glass medicine bottles, barbed wire and tools. Once we found an abandoned home in a quiet valley complete with a functional piano on the front porch. I launched into my memorized material and entertained my family. For some reason, we never felt like we were trespassing…just checking the “real estate”.

Today I didn’t go into any of the homes I stopped at — just stood outside. I didn’t leave anything but blessings. I didn’t take anything but pictures.

Blue Star Banner in Stickney, IL

A Blue Star Banner, a Marine flag and a U.S. flag flying proudly in front of my friend’s home.

A Blue Star Banner in a watchful Berwyn neighborhood.

Only God knows the deep pride and sorrow of a Gold Star Family.

“But Mother Goose, how…?” you may ask and your question may trail off just like that if you saw my eyes right now. With all simplification in place, I will say this: if your eyes itch and burn like they have fire in them from the pollen in the spring air, DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT RUB THEM OR PLACE YOUR FINGERS ANYWHERE WITHIN TEN INCHES FEET OF YOUR EYES!

I would take a picture and show my eyes to you, but you would throw up on your keyboard. Indeed, Mother Goose has no desire to be a liability to any one of her loyal and loving readers. And a special shout out to my dear reader, Dianna, for kindly asking about me — you’re such a sweet heart and everybody should just go over to her blog right away as soon as you are done here and see just how wonderful she is…

Anyway, to get to the meandering point of my post today…

“A ragamuffin knows he’s only a beggar at the door of God’s mercy.” Brennan Manning

Sometimes a movie comes along that will change your life and the way that you view God. Sometimes you have to wait about fifteen years for that movie to be created, but you know it’s coming. I’m only a goose, but I’m just out and out promoting a new movie about the amazing life of Rich Mullins — it’s coming soon and here’s a trailer for it. PLEASE watch the trailer and share it with everybody you know and be blessed.

And please pray for the eyes of Mother Goose to heal quickly — I have so many stories to tell!

A mystery novelist typing away,
She works through the night
She works day by day
Plots so twisty,
Characters so strange
To make the mystery look
Pre-arranged.

A sweet greeting card complete with a squirrel
Makes me feel like I might be a really loved girl
Then I walk through the door after work to find
He’s busy cooking dinner for the kids, so kind!

Though it rains cats and dogs, his work is not done
No, in fact, he’s really just begun
To replace the broken side mirror of my car.
I’ll travel with him forever, no matter how far.

I think Mark’s in love with a goose….

We lost so much in a few days
What my Mama says
When it rains, it pours

Families have lost blood, charred
Lives make us pray hard.
Always try to be on guard.

And I’ve got a lake in my backyard…

Newly created Lake Cramer with thin morning ice.

The scene of the bizarre occurrence — we were sitting in the corner.

I was already working my way through a bowl of cappuccino when Jennifer sat down. We had a preliminary weather discussion and then got down to some serious chit chat about working on our own businesses. She has had some great opportunities and had learned many things over the years and she was very willing to share her knowledge with Mother Goose.

We also got to talking about our families, of course. My large group of children and her only son, Andy — seemingly very different family situations. She and her husband Paul had adopted their son when he was a tiny fellow — they had lived in the city and Andy had attended some fine schools before they had moved to Oak Park.

In the middle school years, he had experienced some bullying by some really nasty kids. They had teased him for being of Asian descent — heartbreaking stuff for kids and their moms, of course.

She told me that Andy was doing well in high school, although he still wasn’t very involved in extracurricular activities. He’s interested in computer science and looking forward to college.

Suddenly Mother Goose had a weird sort of epiphany.

“Is your son a senior?” I asked.

“Yes,” Jennifer replied.

“And you called him Andy?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered again with a quizzical look on her pretty face.

“Well,” I continued, “I was just wondering because my son is a senior also and his best friend is an Asian guy named Andrew.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes got rounder than my bowl of cappuccino.

“My son’s name is Ben,” I explained.

And then all of the halogen lights went on inside our heads. We simultaneously reached the bizarre conclusion that our sons were indeed best friends!

I’m still shaking my feathery old goose head at this amazing situation. As you know, Mother Goose does not believe in coincidences, accidents or acts of chance. I believe that every single activity and meeting under heaven’s stars has a real meaning in the general cosmic state of affairs. And this was just one more proof of that fact — our loving God is totally in charge of every moment in our lives and loves to arrange the most interesting combinations of people. There is no shortage of mysteries in life and He is the grand author of them all, including this one.

Jennifer and I had been chatting for over an hour before the great bizarre situation was revealed to us. Oh, we laughed and hugged and almost cried. We shook our heads and looked at each other with brand new eyes of understanding and compassion.

Suddenly everything made perfect sense!

We will never forget that moment and surely we will be friends forever after this day. Don’t you just love those times when the universe suddenly opens up, love pours down on us and great joy is real and wonderful?

Mother Goose just loves times like these. God bless you today!

Another time, another place, another IED
Hearts and lives and families ripped to shreds
Boston Marathon on Patriot’s Day 2013
A day to celebrate those who fought for America’s freedom
A day to remember those who have died in the name of freedom
Can justice run up the avenues and down?

red stuff of life ended

With great gusto, I strolled and listened and looked around at the sights
My silver head pivoting around and around, not to miss a single thing
Like a bobble head toy, nodding and glancing, ever moving along and
Up the avenues and down, discovering daffodils, robins, worms

green stuff of new life

green stuff of new life

(This was written the morning of the Boston Marathon, before the tragedy.)

I adored you from my first moment
Pictures of me gazing into your hazelnut eyes,
My baby blues crinkled all smiles

when you walked into the room

Honestly Dad
You needed your newspaper, I needed my daddy.
Did you really have to toss me out of your easy chair?

You taught me to ride my first bike.
You took off just one of the training wheels.
I crashed into the rose bush.

Remember when we went to the Father/Daughter Dance?
The year was 1967
I was a ten-year old in a lime green mini dress.

We didn’t dance but we were together.
That was really nice.
The most handsome daddy in the world.

Remember when we went to buy my first car?
1971 Ford Maverick three on the tree.
I had never driven a manual transmission before.

You pointed the car up the hill, such a challenge
Trying to time it all perfectly to impress you with my driving skills.
It worked so much better when we turned the car around.

Honestly Dad

I wanted to follow in your successful footsteps
If I was a state forester like you, we’d have so much to talk about
“That’s a poor career choice for women” was your reply.

Remember when I tried to be a model in the big city?
I sent you a glossy black and white photo of ME
Eight and a half by eleven, all framed up

The glass was shattered in transit from Chicago to northern Minnesota
My life and my heart broken in pieces 1984
I think you got to see what I looked like anyway.

You walked me down the aisle and gave me away two times
The third time you couldn’t make it to the wedding
And that’s OK.

Thirty years since I left home
You never called me
You quickly passed the phone to Mom when I called

Now you call me every week
Honestly Dad
Why did it take Mom’s passing for you to remember me?

Oft I’ve wondered on our journeys near and far
Sump, dear pump, how did you get that scar?
You work so hard, your ever frequent pumping
Sucking water from the sump and ever dumping

Your labor continues through the deepest night
The rains, the showers, the streaming, the sight
Of water in my basement, you know my darkest fright
I love your ever vigilant care, oh sump pump hold me tight.