An Adventure in Ardmore

alternately titled: How We Meet an Angel and Learn That Worms Can Do Calculus (Much to My Chagrin Because I am Having a Whole Lot of Trouble Just Helping Michael with Geometry)



On the road before it gets light--breakfast in Norman--sunrise somewhere near Purcell--late fall scenery west of Ada--Christmas music on the radio--the Oklahoma hills otherwise known as the Arbuckle Mountains--a blow-out south of Ardmore near Lake Murray--

Good times! ...until the blow-out thing...

And this is exactly how it went down:

Grace is driving along and I'm trying to figure out how much longer it will take us to reach our destination which is Southeastern University in Durant, Oklahoma. I hear a noise from the back of the van and ask Grace if she heard it. She did.

"Should I slow down?"
"No," I say, "Speed up."

She doesn't, being a prudent and careful driver. The sound is suddenly louder and we decide to pull over to the side of the highway.

Sure enough, there is a problem; the tire is totally--down to the rim--FLAT. I begin to cry hysterically and wring my hands while Grace starts to look for the jack. No, that's not quite true. I rack my brain, trying to remember just who we know in the area that we could call for help while Grace finds the jack and pulls it out. After a quick phone consultation with my husband, we figure out how to get the tire out. We are trying to decide just exactly where to place the jack when an angel in a pickup truck pulls over and greets us with the words: "Need some help?"

We admit we do.

"Ok," he responds. "I would want somebody to help my wife and kids if something like this happened to them. I don't have to be anywhere in a hurry."

The "angel" was a mechanical engineer from Memphis, Tennessee who was working on a steel mill in Madill. He was originally from Wynnewood, Oklahoma and his parents still live in Oklahoma in the city of Tulsa.



After a few false starts with our jack--he thought it looked warped and I told him we generally used it to change tires on semi trucks--soon the old tire was off and the spare was on. Except for the fact that it had a gaping hole, the old tire actually looked a whole lot better than the spare tire, which was dry and crackly and amazingly small.


He threw the flat tire in the back of the van while we loaded up the jack. Then we turned around and he was gone. Well, to be honest, he didn't actually disappear or anything; he just hopped into his pickup and drove off. But I'm still of the opinion that he was an angel...



P.S. If you want to know about worms and calculus, here's the deal: worms can do calculus. I'm sorry but you are just going to have to take my word on this. Dr. Elliott, a math professor at Southeastern University said that worms can do calculus and who am I to question somebody who has a PHD.

"He Looked Beyond My Fault and Saw My Need"

My favorite Irish song is "Danny Boy" and several people have written Christian lyrics for that melody. My daughter wanted to sing it at church but the version with lyrics by Dottie Rambo had only one verse. I thought, "Well, I can just write a couple more verses! How hard can that be?"

It took a bit of time and effort (ok, maybe more than a bit!) but I now can add "lyricist" to my resume!







"He Looked Beyond My Fault and Saw My Need"
sung to the tune of "Danny Boy" ("Londonderry Air")


original lyrics--Dottie Rambo
additional lyrics-- Karen Nilson (vs. 2 and 3)


1.Amazing grace, shall always be my song of praise.
For it was grace that brought me liberty,
I do not know, just why He came to love me so.
He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.

(chorus)
I shall forever lift mine eyes to Calvary,
To view the cross, where Jesus died for me
How marvelous, His grace that caught my falling soul
He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.

2.By waters still or valleys dark with suffering
I'll follow Him, where e'er His way may lead,
Yet though He slay me, I will ever trust in Him
He sees beyond today and knows my need.

(chorus)
I shall forever lift mine eyes to Calvary,
To view the cross, where Jesus died for me
How marvelous, His grace that caught my falling soul
He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.

(melody of the chorus)
3.Amazing grace and mercy beyond measure
His will to save a wretched one like me
My soul shall ever, ever praise His holy name
He looked beyond my sin and saved my soul.

One Christmas by Daniel

Today's topic: Christmas
by Daniel Nilson (alias Sanders)

One Christmas night it was dark....and snowy and there was a place colder and darker than ever because it was a place that didn't care about the story of Christmas. They just cared about gifts to them...But there was a place that was warm and beautiful because they all believed in Christ.

A Confession or Two (with apologies to all John Denver fans out there)

So can I tell you something? I think I can trust you. I feel like we have a close enough relationship so that you won't laugh out loud or throw things at me.

This is my confession: I used to write poetry. Lots of it. In junior and senior high school. It was pretty sappy. Many of those poems were about mountains, eagles, lakes and pine trees. (yep. sappy.) Sounds to me like someone was slightly inspired by John Denver...yeah...I know...don't judge me...

I have another confession: I still like to listen to John Denver now and then. Ditto on the above...by the way, this is the part where you don't throw things at me.

This is what I remember of one poem I wrote:

Bear Lake

From the lake's dark depths
Boulders arise
Like monsters with
Malevolent eyes.



Then it goes on to describe the "brown and woody toes" of the pine trees and the beauty of the "snow-sprinkled land." I wrote it after the first time I saw the Rocky Mountains (and after the millionth time I heard 'Rocky Mountain High'...which actually happened at about the same time...really and truly. 'Rocky Mountain High' came on the radio when we were driving up into the mountains)

Yes, I was crazy about the mountains...which might explain the John Denver thing.

If I should ever find my journals from this time in my life, I will post a few more examples of my poetry to brighten your day...or not...




(note: these pictures were taken by Rachel on a Character First ski trip in March of 2008 when Mary-Grace skiied into a wall and fractured her wrist in two places and Rachel was going up the ski lift and saw her sister lying there in the snow beside the wall with the medics working on her and...well, maybe someday I ought to write about that...just not now.)

Move Over, Alex Trebek

Three of us sat together there in the dining room of the nursing home--my daughter, myself and Sybil. Sybil is a dear; she's pleasant and agreeable and interested in everything. She's so interested, in fact, that she often asks you the same question two or three times. Or maybe it's because she doesn't remember what you told her the first time she asked. She has a little sign on her walker reminding her how to get back to her room: "Turn left after the dining room, then third door on the right". We talk about the weather-several times-and this afternoon's activity-Jeopardy!

Two ladies join our little group and we introduce ourselves. The lady with the cropped white hair and the snappy green eyes informs us that her name is Moyne "M-O-Y-N-E. I'm Irish and I took that name so you wouldn't have to." Jonni, very spry, funny and so sweet, says she is Irish, too, and I admit to being a little Irish myself. We reassure Moyne that she has a lovely name. Jonni tells us that her family used to call her "Baby" and how, even when she got older, like forty, people were still calling her that.

Mary, Eloise and Bea arrive. Bea wants to know if we will be doing a Christmas program again this year. I tell her that my older girls are very busy with their college classes and that my talent pool is dwindling. She still thinks we ought to do a program. I tell her she doesn't want to hear me sing a solo or play an instrument but I am quick to assure her that we plan to be there at Christmastime, talent or no talent. Then, in my best imitation of Alex Trebek, I tell them it is time for Jeopardy!

Sybil may have short-term memory loss but she shows us she knows her trivia on the very first question. It had to have been only 30 seconds later, during Jonni's turn, when she asks "Now, what are we doing here?" Jonni sweetly answered, "Don't worry, honey, just listen and we'll explain when it's your turn."

Some of the ladies are risk-takers, choosing $500 questions right out of the gate, while others, less sure of themselves, choose the easier ones. Quite often the ladies forget this is a competition and they help each other with the answers. It is heartwarming to observe their gentle care and encouraging manner.

The last question in the category "Civil War" is: "From which state did both the president of the North and the president of the South come from?" Jonni doesn't know and neither does anyone else. And the only reason I know is because I have the answer sheet right in front of me. I offer to give them a clue and say "There's a song that has the answer but I'm not going to sing it for you because I don't actually know it. It begins with the words 'The sun shines bright on my old...' " Sybil immediately starts singing and we all join in as we discover we know the song after all. ♫


Yes, Sybil did win the game and she seemed pleased with herself...for a little while. Suddenly she was tired and wanted to go back to her room. Gently we pointed her in the right direction and watched to make sure she turned left after the dining room.

The Cat in the Attic by Daniel

Today's topic: The Cat in the Attic
By Daniel A. Nilson (alias Sanders)




Today Cat found a way into the attic. Well, this cat is no Pooh Bear because she is smart and found a way to get into the attic. Plus she can squeeze through tiny holes. Pooh can't because he is fluffed with fluffing.




So Cat could of went through one of these openings --->

So Cat went into the attic and came downstairs when I went in the attic looking for her. I came down to get a bottle of water then Cat jumped out and scared me.



and so that's a wrap.


by Daniel Nilson

The Scary Haircut

What was I thinking?

"Trust me," the man said. Then he began telling about how much he loved the outdoors. He loved to camp and hike and hunt and fish. He loved to be on the water in a kayak and he particularly enjoyed white water rafting. Great--I felt so reassured. It would be a different story if he were teaching me to shoot a gun or to fly fish but, no, he was wielding a very sharp pair of scissors uncomfortably close to my head and there seemed to be a lot of my hair landing on the floor. I was beginning to get alarmed.

"Close your eyes," he said, "I'm going to slice your bangs." Those were his exact words. I started wishing for a fire or a tornado--any excuse to get out of that chair and run away fast...

He must have noticed I was looking kind of panicked because he started telling me about his cute little fox terrier that he had originally wanted to name BooBoo. That was supposed to give me confidence? I was somewhat reassured when he told me that he named her Cocoa and not BooBoo. (ok, I was really not that comforted) To put me at ease, (I can only assume) he began to ask me about my family. He was duly impressed that all my children have the same father (not kidding). Soon, however, he seemed to have exhausted all possible topics of conversation (but not before he asked if I homeschool my kids through college--why, yes, I gave my son an engineering degree and I think I'll give my daughter a degree in chemistry).

Finally, he began to talk about my hair-which was the only reason I met him in the first place: "I was very conservative. I only cut off about 4 inches (?!!?) You will still be able to put it in a pony tail (yeah, if the pony tail is one inch long!) You'll probably want to use a diffuser when you blow-dry it (my blow-drying is generally done by the wind.) Don't put a lot of gel or mousse in your hair because your hair is so fine (which sounds nice but isn't really a compliment.) When you walked in here I could tell your hair had a lot of potential. (translated--it looked kinda bad.) You can flip it up or curl it under, pretty much whatever you want to do with it." He seemed inordinately pleased with what he had done to my hair; personally, I am just glad I didn't end up as a trophy above his fireplace!

Postscript: I can't believe I forgot to mention the name of the salon he works out of: Headhunters... (I am not even kidding)