Wednesday, February 10, 2010


It is time to mothball this blog.

I've been thinking about doing this for some time. I'm doing so now for a few reasons.

First, the blog's purpose, thank the Lord, has been fulfilled.

You've probably noticed, but in recent months I've gravitated more to the mundane than the blog's original purpose, which was to connect, inspire, vent and educate. I can and may still do those things, but it will be much less frequent and focused on the original purposes of RFD.

It is time to move on. I will still volunteer, run races, fund-raise and all those things, but we've been given a gift. Dori is a survivor. Normal times have returned. Blessings in hand, we move on, but never to forget.

I will still follow other blog friends closely. You continue to mean much to Dori and me. God has connected us forever, for which we are grateful.

Our very best to each and every one of you!

Sunday, February 7, 2010

No More Avocadoes, Please

Yesterday morning, I ran a solo three miles through downtown Nashville before joining my Team In Training friends for our weekly run. I needed the mileage because I was only going to be able to run five miles with them before heading to coach Will's basketball team.

I knew I was going to be sore after Friday's parent-student basketball game. The three went OK, as did the next five, but I never shook the soreness completely.

What made a lot of it go away, however, was a Mission Moment from Martha, who replicated last month's presentation to the entire Middle Tennessee group, as well as conversation on the run. I ran most of the five miles with two new teammates, Geoff and Sherri, who lost family and friends to leukemia. Their stories bolstered me. I'm grateful to continue to meet new friends who are committed to slamming blood cancer.

Later in the morning, Will's team played the best team in the league, losing 38-12. For most of the game, our guys played on their heels, which was frustrating. If they would have played more aggressively, the game could have been closer, but we were outmatched in talent. Positively, we held the opponent to their lowest point total of the year. They had scored above 50 in every game this year.

Will was disappointed, but we had a great talk after the game about how you learn more when things don't go well. I shared I've been in his shoes, disappointed when things don't go well and elated when everything goes right. But you learn from each experience. He said he understood frustration converted to determination will lead to better results. He has made a great deal of progress since last year.

Kathryn played well in her game, scoring, hustling and battling. Her team only had seven players, so she played almost the entire game. She was still going very hard at the end. The opposing coach ran a box-and-one on her, a sign of respect for her game. Kathryn was fouled repeatedly, but they never called it. In the car, she showed me several bruises and scrapes. She has the potential to be a good player, if she sticks with it. I like her fire.

Last night, we had a splendid dinner at my Mom's. I raved about a gorgonzola-walnut-vinaigrette salad with avocadoes, forgetting briefly that Dori hasn't handled avocadoes well since her transplant. Dori picked our the pieces, deciding to give the salad a whirl. A few hours later, the salad gave her a whirl. The score after four periods: Avocadoes 28, Dori 0.

Friday, February 5, 2010


Earlier today, I wasn't having the best of days. Essentially, someone's mistake caused me to run some damage control.

I did get to blow off some steam at Spirit Day at our kids' school. The parents played the varsity basktball team, which was a lot of fun. Especially enjoyable was seeing our kids and their friends watch Fade Too Soon play hoops against the young-uns. My other Indian name is Back So Sore.

I also reminded myself my wife is alive and happy, and that's helped. But I still have a little steam in the whistle.

It makes sense, then, to ventilate some more with some FNFs.

Moody Blues: Ride My See Saw 1968

More Moody, from The Threshold of a Dream, circa 1969.