All over the news last week was the story of the death of one of the great comedians.
Death, as it has been reported, by his own hand.
Impossible, seemed to be the most common response.
How could someone who made us laugh, who touched our heart, struggle with depression?

We have our categories.
Funny.
Serious.
Happy.
Sad.

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Traveling around the Ring of Kerry, each site was more spectacular than the last.
Botanists come here to do their research since holly grows here as undergrowth.
Rhododendron has taken over and for six weeks the lavender color borders the roadway.
Such incredible beauty, words cannot begin to describe.

I was intrigued with a bit of history surrounding the Herbert family and Muckross House.

It is said that Henry Arthur Herbert desired a formal royal title.
In those days, a royal title would ensure the financial security that Herbert desired.
He went to elaborate plans to secure such a title.
It happened in 1861, with the visit of Queen Victoria.

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I am not a traveler.
I am a homebody, if truth were told.
The travel angst does not call to me as it does to my husband.
Close-by places are more desirable to me than faraway places.

This trip was different.
This trip was a celebration.
This trip was a once in a lifetime event.
This trip was one for the memory books.

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I received a gift after church on Sunday.
My dear friend, who knows that I am still struggling with my back, handed me a bag.
For you. For your back. I hope it will help.

I opened the bag and it was two back pillows.
She knows that we will be going on vacation soon.
She knows that sitting for long periods of time is not comfortable.

She knows.

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I am amazed that there is a science to packing clothes.
No more throwing things into suitcases.
It is suggested that vacuum packing is the way to go.
There is something about vacuuming the air out of a bag of clothes that confounds me.

I am not a good packer.
I like things streamlined, but I like them nearby.
It is hard to think of things that I may need whether overnight or for a few days.
I don’t like living out of a suitcase.

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I would much rather be cold than hot.
If you are cold you can always light a fire in the fireplace.
You can always wrap a blanket around you as you have a cup of tea.
You can always put on another sweater.

If you’re hot, there’s not much you can do.
Sit in the air conditioning or swim in a pool, if available.
You can only take off so many layers of clothes, as modesty dictates.
Even if you can deal with the heat, dealing with the humidity is another story.

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Two women I know are each going on a mission trip.
One will be going to China with her son.
The other to Guatemala with her husband.
Far-away trips doing practical work, helping the people there.

The mission trips are also an opportunity to share the Gospel.

The woman going to China is a home-school mom.
She will be teaching English to the Chinese students while she is there.
She has seven children of her own, but only her oldest is going with her on this trip.
She is gifted to teach and will use her God-given talents well.

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When my oldest daughter was a toddler she got many ear infections.
There was no way of knowing she had an infection.
There was never any pain.
There was only one telltale sign.

Back then; you had a stereo system to listen to music.
The system had a turntable for record albums.
It usually had cassette player for tapes.
The speakers were large, like pieces of furniture.

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It is an end of the school year ritual.
Pens in hand, everyone is signing yearbooks.
Remember me.
Have a great summer.

It is a ritual that has been happening for years in some form or another.
One pen.
One name.
So many memories.

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I heard the alert at 2:00 in the morning.
I instinctively grabbed my phone and tried to read the message with sleepy eyes.
After a few blinks, the words became clear.
Severe Thunderstorm warning. Take precautionary measures immediately.

The words were a bit disconcerting to read at 2:00am.
As if on cue, the room lit up.
It was as if someone had turned on a strobe light.
The thunder could be heard in the distance.

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