My holiday focus: food or people?

When we think of the holidays, one of the things that make it so fun is food. 

Food

Lots of food.

Yummy food.

Special food.

Food that we don’t often get to have.

Traditional family recipes.

Comfort foods.

Exotic foods.

Favorite foods.

…

But obviously, it's more than food.

The other highlight of the holidays... 

People.

People we love.

People we are connected with.

People we belong to.

People we don’t see often.

People.

Relationships.

Not always so comfortable.

Maybe that’s why the comfort foods are so appealing.

I am excited about the people I get to see. I wish I could spend more time with them - and this is it.

So how about if I focus on the people at least as much as on the food? 

Maybe I can take an extra minute to ask someone about something that is important to them. And then to really listen.

I can speak peace.

I can spread good will.

…

I love to eat and I love to talk.

I guess you could say that my mouth is pretty important to me. 

I like to put yummy morsels in it and I like to speak words out of it.

Unfortunately I often tend to do both without really thinking.

Oops!

This would be a good time to be a bit more mindful about both.

To think about my lips… 

To choose which morsels I allow to enter my lips as well as which words I allow to escape my lips.

Ooh, yah, I can also use my lips to kiss the sweet faces of my grand babies and to smooch the lips of my honey. That’s fun, too.

...

Here's the cool thing. I can use my mouth for eating and I can use my mouth for speaking, but preferably not at the same time. So I guess what I'm trying to say is why not talk more and eat less. Even though, yes, I know that can get me in trouble, too.

…

Moral of the story:

I choose to celebrate the people as much as I do the food.
And you better believe I will celebrate the food!

Oops; put down that cell phone! Hee-hee!

Joy, hope, peace

On this date twelve years ago, we heard the dreaded "C" word.

On this day, today, I am grateful
I continue to be grateful.
Grateful for so many things.

Things like hope, joy and peace.
And a whole lot more.

By the way, these angel bears are special to me

because I got them from the Seton Cancer Center

during the weeks of radiation treatment.  

...

So much. So very much for which to be thankful.

...

For you, my reader, I wish for joy, hope, and peace.

Hunger

Hunger is often considered a negative thing.

It indicates a lack. 

A lack of something vitally important. 

Maybe even a severe lack.

Hunger is so often associated with poverty and injustice.

Because in many cases hunger really is a terrible thing, we correctly desire to eradicate it.

While writing the piece about waiting for hunger, I did a search for pictures for the word “hunger” and was inundated by powerful images of the face of world hunger. Looking at those sad and horrific scenes moves me to compassion and a desire to wipe out hunger and poverty. It is a dreadful thing, so we are right to want to remove it from the world.

…

But... an interesting thing can happen. 

Because real, desperate hunger is such a negative thing, I guess it kind of makes sense that we would try to avoid hunger in our own lives. As Americans, we have done a pretty good job of it. We don’t like to be hungry. It feels like deprivation. We do whatever we can to make sure that we don’t go hungry.

Consequently we rarely if ever even experience real hunger. Or if we do begin to feel hunger pangs, we rush to eat something so we won’t feel hungry.

But what if hunger is not always a bad thing? 

What if I didn’t think of it as unpleasant? 

I have much to learn about hunger and satiety and appetite. I’ve only taken baby steps so far. But I have learned to notice the sensation of hunger and to realize that it is not necessarily a bad thing.

Instead, in my case, it can actually be a reminder of my blessings. I DO have access to food. Enough food to quiet the rumblings of my stomach, and also enough food to keep me alive and healthy. That is not something that I want to take for granted. 

…

It has been awhile since I let myself experience the discomfort of feeling hungry. But I remember and have decided it's time. For a few days now, I have remembered to wait for hunger. I am actually glad to be back here. I am reminding myself of the positive aspects of the sensation.

In fact, sometimes I just want to celebrate that growling - because it means that my body finally has a chance to burn up some of those hundreds of calories that I’ve crammed into it over the past couple days. What a novel idea!

I guess it can be a gift that I choose to give myself. A much better gift to my body than overloading it with so much more than it needs and can handle.

And besides... 

Food tastes so much better

when I am actually hungry!!!

Wait for it

When it comes to weight management, one of the sanest concepts I’ve ever learned is to pay attention to my body. The most important cue to watch for is whether I’m hungry or not. Duh. 

If I’m hungry, then I can eat. 

If I’m not hungry, it’s not time for me to eat. 

The second concept is a natural partner to the first: 

Eat only until satisfied. 

Not until full or stuffed. 

Just until satisfied.

I came to realize that this is how “normal” people eat - "normal" meaning naturally thin people. It doesn’t matter how yummy something looks, if they’re not hungry, they don’t eat. And they know to stop eating when they are no longer hungry.

But this common sense approach and this sensitivity has been buried in many of us - for a huge variety of reasons.  I had dozens of personal reasons for eating - maybe I was feeling stressed, bored, lonely, anxious or nervous or maybe I just didn't want to miss out on anything… I had to train myself to hear that soft voice that could inform me whether I was really hungry or not. It was tricky, but I eventually learned to recognize the truth. Unfortunately, it is terribly easy to slip back into the mode of NOT listening for that voice. How quickly I can revert to eating for any or all of those other reasons.

I have been listening to the wrong reasons for awhile now so it’s time to find ways to tune in again to whether I am really hungry. Maybe I can remind myself of some of my own stories of how it works.

I remember this one time when I met a friend for lunch. We were both in a group studying this concept* and were trying to encourage each other in our food choices. I remember thinking and commenting that this was more food than I needed and that I would only need about half of it - AND that it would be a good idea to get a take-out box sooner than later. I also remember a bit of our conversation after having eaten nearly half of our food. 

“It might be time for me to stop eating.”

“I don’t need any more than this, although I’d love to eat the rest of it.”

“I don’t know; I’m not full yet.”

“But wait a minute; I’m not hungry anymore, am I?”

...

So there's my reminder for today. For this week:

Wait for hunger.

Eat only until no longer hungry.

…

* The book we were studying is Weigh Down by Gwen Shamblin.

Such silliness

Warning: this story is silly.

I mean absurdly, ridiculously silly and trivial.

But hey, I try to celebrate the little victories in life. Even the silly ones.

And maybe even learn from them.

…

You know how sometimes we sit around the table talking and laughing - maybe for hours? And you know how easy it is to keep munching and nibbling away at the things that are nearby? Obviously you are no longer hungry, but once the bloat of fullness fades a teeny bit and the tryptophan has lulled all sense of reason into oblivion, the contents of those giant platters and serving bowls somehow start to look appealing again.

Well, there I sat beginning to notice that succulent piece of turkey on the edge of that platter - or to think about how I might be able to find room for another small portion of that sweet potato concoction. I admit I was ready to reach for first one and then another…. Except for one minor detail. 

For some silly reason, there was water on my plate. Maybe I had poured out the last couple ounces of water from my glass to make room for something sparkly. I think it was something like that. I suppose it made sense at the time because surely I was done eating and finished with my plate.

At any rate, there was this little pool of water there in the middle of my plate - as I sat there sipping my sparkling beverage and enjoying the conversation and laughter floating around the room.

After awhile, sure enough, I began to notice that platter of turkey sitting nearby - AND another of ham. Oh, my; they were both so yummy and I had been careful not to eat very much. But now… Now after sitting here for a couple hours… Now maybe I could find room for just a little snipper…

Oh, wait; there’s a little pool of water on my plate. Okay; I won’t bother. I don’t need more food anyway. 

More talking and listening and laughing and learning what’s happening in everybody’s life. Good times.

Oh, but look! There is that amazing stuffing with all of the secret ingredients stuffed inside. I sure would be nice to get another tiny serving of that. Let’s see; maybe I will. Oh, wait; nope, there’s still that little pool of water on my plate. Wouldn’t want it to make my stolen serving of stuffing soggy, now would I?

Of course, by now I began to argue with myself. I could get up and take that offending plate to the kitchen and get rid of the little pool of water. But no, that would take effort. And besides this gives me a good excuse to not eat more. Hmmm… Interesting.

Back to the friendly banter in the room. Fun times.

But it happened again. And again. There was that pecan-encrusted sweet potato dish. Oh, yum. Ooh, and the scalloped corn soufflé or whatever it is called. Maybe it’s time for just a little more of one of those. Gotta’ eat my vegetables; right? Oops; nope. There’s that little pool of water. How silly! 

Of course, by then, I had become aware what was happening - smart girl that I am. It had dawned on me that I had before me a perfect deterrent - albeit a silly one. And that my laziness was at least helping me to avoid some serious over-eating. I had to chuckle while silently congratulating myself. Such silliness. But hey, maybe this is what they call mindful eating. This noticing and monitoring my own private internal battle - and even recognizing the humor in it. Who knows? 

…

The moral of the story?

In my battle against gluttony, one of the few things that seems to work for me (WHEN I choose to employ it!) is to wait. Instead of popping something into my mouth, simply wait. Wait a little longer before eating that morsel that is calling my name. Wait. Maybe 15 minutes. Maybe I can only make it 5 minutes. Or maybe I can sail through the 15 minutes and decide to wait even longer. Maybe I can wait until I finish this project or cross one more item off my to-do list. 

Maybe I can grab onto some silly reason to wait. Like maybe there is a little pool of water on my plate. And maybe I’m too lazy to get out of my chair and do something about it. So maybe I will let that become my reason to wait. Whatever works. Whatever reason I can find to postpone eating something that I don’t need. 

Creative procrastination. That’s what I like to call it. 

Maybe that’s the moral of the story.

Maybe I can continue to learn from it.

Maybe I can be alert to whatever will help me next week when the Christmas foods appear.

…

How about you? 

Do you employ any silly tactics to avoid gluttony during this season of abundance?

More power to you.

Sunday morning musings

I wonder whether there will be pro-life teaching from the pulpits of America today.

I wonder if there will be reference to Good News.

I wonder if there will be messages of peace on earth and good will toward all men.

I wonder whether there will be any preaching about loving our neighbors as ourselves. Or will there be talk about protecting ourselves against them?

I wonder if there will be discussion about the words of Jesus when he said to turn the other cheek. Specifically in Missionary Churches where I grew up, I wonder whether there is still any consideration for our Mennonite roots.  For a call to non-violence.

I wonder if anyone will ask what Jesus would do.

I wonder.

AIDS Awareness Day

I wrote this five years ago and could benefit from reading it again and remembering some of these things that I had conveniently forgotten.

...

Today is World AIDS Day - dedicated to raising awareness of the AIDS pandemic caused by the spread of HIV infection.  I won't presume to tell you what you should do about this fact.  I don't even know yet what I'm going to do.  But I can mention some things that we could do.

I could spend some time thinking about a few facts:

-that AIDS has killed more than 25 million people between 1981 and 2007

-that of the estimated 2 million who died in 2007, about 270,000 were children

I could let myself be appalled at the numbers of people currently living with AIDS:
-one million in the Congo
-one million in Uganda
-over a million each in Kenya, Tanzania, Zambia and the USA
-nearly two million each in Mozambique and Zimbabwe
-two million in Nigeria
-5.5 million in South Africa
-5.7 million in India

I can applaud the efforts of those who:
-have chosen to minister to AIDS orphans across the African continent
-are using their fame & their wealth to try to curb the spread of disease
-have invested their time to do research and find cures

I can grieve with those who grieve.
I can remember specific people who have died from AIDS.
I can celebrate their lives and the contributions they made to this world.
I can express my gratitude for having known some of them.
I can pay tribute to the amazing and talented Ron Sims.
I believe I am a better person for loving and having been loved by him.

The Christmas tree business

Living on a tree farm is an awesome thing. And our tree farm was pretty spectacular complete with horses and wagons (and sometimes the sleigh!) and the quaint little log house filled with Grandma Betty's hand-dipped chocolates and mugs of hot cocoa and a roaring fire in the fireplace .

I remember the first year we sold Christmas trees. We didn’t have the log cabin in place yet and besides we had very few trees that were big enough so we sold them out of our garage. This was definitely a learn-as-you-go venture. 

It didn’t take long to get caught up in the excitement - watching people choose their tree and tie it on top of their car and head down the driveway. As one dad was securing the tree and Mom was loading the kids in the car, their little guy stopped and turned around to tell me, “THANK YOU for our Christmas tree!!!” His joy gave me a teeny peak into how fun the Christmas tree business might be.

By the next year there were lots of boys around - some young boys and a bunch of bigger boys working the tree lot and the fields.  Lots and lots of boys through the years. Mike and Mike and Tim and Jeff and Jeff… and Ricky and Ben and Sam... and a whole lot more.

By then we had acquired and moved the old log cabin to the farm and we had put in many late nights restoring it to be our sales office, the face of the tree farm. That was when things got really exciting!

That first opening weekend was indeed grand. Lots of people showed up and lots of horses, too.

There were the teams that we had arranged to pull wagons and give free rides around the farm and there was also a large group of local riders that came for an outing from a nearby town. This outing became an annual tradition for them and for us. Interestingly enough one of those riders from the early days is now the owner of the farm.

Our “horse people” were a great asset to the tree farm. Our main driver, Grandpa Ed, could take people exactly where they needed to be to find the tree they wanted and then swing by awhile later to pick them up with their freshly-cut tree. 

We had a phenomenal crew. Our daughters and our parents all helped in various roles during those early years - as well as those boys mentioned above. Some of these guys grew up with us through the twenty years that we sold trees. For example, in the early years the three Whitson boys were just little tikes excited to ride in the horse-drawn wagon - and then eventually ended up working on the farm once they got bigger. And there was Sam who was barely in school when he and his parents appeared on TV from the tree farm. Dick Fabian came from WNEM-TV5 to do a story for their Take5 program and filmed Sam and his dad cutting down a Christmas tree. Sam kept coming to the tree farm through the years and eventually he became part of the crew.

There were families and there were traditions. Bob’s siblings wanted to be part of the festivities so they started a tradition of gathering in the wreath shed on opening day to make wreaths together. Who can forget the battery-operated lighted wreath that Ron made for the front of his car!

There were friends who came home from college with our girls. First from Bethel College with Stacy and then Angie. Then from North Park University with Wendi. And then there were the Moody boys.

There were students from around the world - some who lived with us for a year and some who visited for a weekend. Matthieu from France, Eugene from Russia, Priscilla from Costa Rica, Juliana from Colombia - as well as Jo from Finland, Cheng from China, Yukka from Japan… There was a large Lebanese family from down-state who came every year. Wonderful fascinating people converging on a lovely Christmasy spot.

There were field trips.

There were crafts and crafters.

There were singers. When our friends who formed the folk music group Living Truth came to get their Christmas tree, of course they serenaded all of the other customers with beautiful Christmas music.

…

Year after year people kept coming back - driving from as far as Detroit to get their tree. Actually some of our trees went out of state - to Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, South Dakota and Virginia… 

There was lots of fun and lots of hard work. Certainly the fun exciting days outnumbered the difficult ones but there still came a point when the time was right to close down the farm. We set up a self-service system and sold trees by appointment - mostly to friends and neighbors - for a few more years. And now we've sold the farm.

After 25 years of Hidden Hollows Christmas tree memories, this year is quite different. Oldest daughter and hubby had earlier followed the tradition of planting Christmas trees in their back yard, so they have been harvesting their own for a couple years now. Middle daughter is starting new traditions with her young family - exploring their new neighborhood to find a Christmas tree somewhere else. *sniff* Youngest daughter can’t have a real tree in her apartment - for maybe the first time ever. And this is our first year without one as well. No wonder we are feeling a little nostalgic! *sniff, sniff*

In fact, when we see cars with trees on top coming from the tree farm near our current home, we sort of feel left out. I guess we feel a bit of a vacuum where the excitement of the Christmas tree business once was. 

Are we sorry about our decision?  Do we wish we had stayed at the farm?

Nope. Because while there are lots of things that we miss, there are a whole bunch of things that we DON’T miss!!! Things that makes us tired just thinking about them. Things that we are no longer able to do.

But best of all is the freedom that we have - now that we are no longer tied down to the tree farm!

• Tied down to the schedule - when we were too busy and too tired to do much of any holiday activity.
• Tied down to the work - both hard physical labor and lots of time-consuming mental work.
• Tied down to the place with all of the maintenance and repair of several buildings as well as the trees and the grounds.
• Tied down financially. That’s the biggie. We are now free to do other things. To spend our money in other ways.

There are always trade-offs. Pros and cons.

Life is simpler now. Less restricted.

We are quite happy with our decision to sell the farm and live on the road. 

Time marches on. We make changes and tough decisions. Life brings joy and loss. Even good changes carry pain. But I'm learning that I don't need to hide from the pain and loss. To the contrary, as I take time to feel it, I am actually choosing to honor and cherish the beauty of those wonderful years.

So when Mariah Carey starts to sing “I miss you most at Christmas time” and I sing along, this year I might not be singing to a person. Instead I may be addressing that magical time and place. It is a conscious decision to embrace the sadness as well as the joy of the amazingly awesome memories from our life on the Christmas tree farm.

November 24: a significant date

A significant date it is.

I’ve always been a sucker for significant dates. 

I like to notice and I like to remember.

One year ago today we sold the farm. One year ago. After several years of downsizing and a couple years of having the place up for sale, this was our closing date. We closed the deal and we closed this amazing chapter of our lives. Significant indeed.

Two years ago today (2013) I wrote a guest post on Bob’s blog. This one shows a different kind of closure after finding ourselves outside the world where we had lived and worked for our entire lives. HUGE changes have transpired as a result of that shift. Significant changes were noticed.

Three years ago (2012) I was feeling thankful to have indoor plumbing including washer and dryer after a few months of hauling clothes to the laundromat. Significant adjustments had begun.

Four years ago (2011) I listed a few of the things I was feeling thankful for:

That I am excited about the future with all of its question marks
That I get to travel this road with the most amazing man as my partner
That I am feeling freer these days
That I am getting healthier by the year
That guilt is gradually giving way to grace as my default setting
That I/we have had the luxury of time for the recovery process
That I now celebrate diversity instead of fearing it

Significant growth. Significant gratitude.

Yes, this date has been significant in my recent journey.

Yes, I am feeling thankful!

Fridge, bed and shower: the measure of a home

Gotta’ love a fridge that has enough space to freeze ice cubes.

And is big enough to fit a pizza box!

...
Trade-offs. 

There will always be trade-offs.
...

Ever since we moved out of the big house, we’ve been dealing with trade-offs. First there was the little tiny bunkhouse where we were able to have our big fridge, but had to step outside to the camper for showers or to the Porta-John for other business. Yah, that would only work in warm weather.

Then there was the log house - with a real bathroom but a tiny shower. 

Interestingly enough, in both of those places we were able to have the luxury of a king-size bed.

Next came the RV with the inevitable cramped quarters. That bed is NOT king-sized and has barely enough room to walk around it to change the sheets. The fridge is not bad for a camper, but not big enough to fit in a pizza box. I don’t even bother trying to make ice cubes there. But the shower is good. Nice-sized and actually pretty convenient. What a blessing! In fact, I realize that all other showers may now be compared to that one.

Now for the next couple months we are in a  two-bedroom furnished apartment. That’s right; TWO bedrooms! That means that we get to host overnight guests - if they like twin beds.  

There’s enough room for Bob to have his piano set up without us tripping over it. I am so happy to be able to spread out a bit and have some space for this next phase of sorting and pitching and packing. 




Plus I get to have my own writing spot. A real desk even.

But what really amazes me is the HUGE fridge. Yes, it’s big enough for an entire pizza box - or even a couple of them.  And yes, I can make ice cubes now - FOUR trays at once. That’s fun. 

We are very thankful for this place and this time. 

...

Then again, it does have the smallest bed we've ever shared. 
And I do miss my shower…

Reading Books

Yesterday I visited Reading Books. Yes, that's the name of a funky little bookstore here in Rockford which resides partly in a couple railroad cars from the 1920s and partly in a little building beside the old railroad track. Rare, used and out-of-print books fill this little shop to overflowing.

…

Their promo bookmark says:

Take a ride on the READING for an express trip to anywhere!

We sell dreams, romance, confidence and peace of mind. 

Ride the range, slay a dragon, bake a cake, solve a murder! 

It’s all possible when you take a ride on The Reading!

…

Resident cats, Zelda and Dickens, wander through the narrow aisles between the stacks of books from one room to the next.  Up a few steps into the train cars are rows and rows of fiction titles. 

When I asked the owner whether she is accepting more books, she pointed out the dozens of full boxes waiting to be shelved. Oh, my; what an overwhelming task. I sort of want to get a little souvenir from here, but I have my own dozen boxes of books sitting in storage that I must get rid of. Wandering through this labyrinth, this over-abundance of printed material, triggered various thoughts and emotions within me. At first I found myself thinking that I should not be a writer. That no one should be a writer - because there are already too many books in the world. I quickly realized how silly that is. Then I found myself thinking of how difficult it is to market books in this age of so many books and so few readers. Such a glut…

I tried to picture my name on the spine of one or some of these books and it seemed like a drop in an ocean. I asked myself why I even write and whether there would ever be a need for my writings. Then I reminded myself that I write for me and for a few people. I try to write what I need to read. Maybe someday I will decide that I need to concern myself with marketing what I write, but not yet. Not today. 

Today I write. 

Today I live life so that I have something to write about.

Transition(s)

Pink October

Once again I’ve been thinking about all the pink ribbons and once again wondering. Wondering if it really does any good. Hopefully there will be lives saved by the awareness campaign. But I wonder.  Might there be better ways to invest the bucks and the energy? I’m guessing that a huge percentage of the dollars and the decorations and the hype really doesn’t make any positive difference for anybody. I hope I’m wrong, but I wonder.

Sad Remembrance

October has also been set aside as a time of awareness of pregnancy and infant loss. Long a hidden and overlooked issue, I’m glad that steps are being taken to recognize how real and how painful this grief can be.

It’s personal

Both of these “commemorations” are personal for me. I am a breast-cancer survivor and I’ve experienced the loss of miscarriage. I understand at least a bit of the fear and grief involved with both. I hope that I am sensitive to others affected by them. 

It's time to move again

During September and October - between our commitment at the lighthouse and other short trips - we have been parked in our daughter’s yard. This campsite does not boast full hook-ups - which means that the usual convenience of RV life has been traded in for more of a camping lifestyle - but the joy of being near to help with the little one tips the scale.

And now the temperature is falling so we need to winterize the RV. Therefore we move tomorrow into a furnished apartment for November and December. It is right along Stacy’s route to work so we can help with child-care once she goes back after maternity leave. Then after the holidays, at the beginning of the year, we will head to warmer temps.

It’s NaNo time!

November is National Novel Writing Month and once more I am participating. It is my sixth year and has been a great experience for me. A great time to do some concentrated writing. I plan to crank out 2000 words a day to make it to the goal of 50,000 words written during the month. I will gladly accept encouragement and questions about how it’s going.

The little pharologist

We knew that one of the things I would love about working at the lighthouse would be the chance to meet people. Interesting people. People who are travelers. People who are thinkers. People who love nature and appreciate history.

Sure enough; that was true. I completely enjoyed that aspect of the job - the chance to meet people. Fascinating people. People from all over the world really. I had not realized how far some travelers come to visit Big Sable Point. But yes, we had guests from all over America as well as from Germany, Switzerland, Britain, Brazil, Austria, Canada, Mexico... and more.

Some people are fascinating because of their travels and others because of their interests. Some are learners and some are experts. Most are very open to sharing their knowledge with those who are interested. We learned much simply by listening and asking questions.

And then there are the pharologists. Quite a few of them actually. I even learned that I am a pharologist - someone who studies or is interested in lighthouses. Yep, that would be me. And that would include people who are interested enough that they would choose to walk nearly four miles to visit. People who come back to visit time after time through the years. People who have visited lots of lighthouses - lots more lighthouses than we have. People who have lived and worked at lighthouses.

There was the "real" pharologist, the lighthouse expert. The one who gets paid to travel around and speak to groups about lighthouse history because he has studied lighthouses so extensively.

There was also the "real" lighthouse keeper, Ken, who had lived and worked at Passage Island and Rock of Ages lights in Lake Superior. And I don't mean the way we "lived and worked" at a lighthouse. I mean that he ran the lighthouse when lives depended on the light burning and the fog horn sounding. Oh, my; what fun to listen to his stories - especially some of the close calls on dark and stormy nights!

But my favorite pharologist was only three years old. When his family arrived, he immediately began telling me about lighthouses. Turns out he knows lots about them and has an unusual fascination with them. He could identify pretty much any lighthouse by its picture and pick out the different ones in our display of models. What a neat kid!

Even though like me, his parents had probably never heard the term before, they were intentionally feeding his interest in pharology and had already taken him to several other lighthouses. One can only imagine what may come of this passion so they are treating it as something serious and worthwhile. Good for them!

I had so much fun watching him study the different model lighthouses and play with the magnets. By the way, he also likes boats, too. He had great fun with the magnets of the SS Badger - and he chose the model "with the boat in it" to hold for his picture.

Without a doubt Ben was the youngest pharologist I met and quite possibly one of the most knowledgeable. And certainly the cutest! You and your family made my day, Little Ben! Thanks for visiting Big Sable Point.

...

And a little note to Ben's mom: I hope you didn't give up on me and that you did stick around long enough to find this post. If so, please leave a comment below. And thanks again for a fun day!