Football, Foilage, Fair and Soccer

I figured I needed to get a blog up before Halloween and Micah's Birthday, otherwise you would have to navigate through 50 pics in one setting. I realize that can be a bit much, especially when they aren't even your kids.
I'm not exactly sure how I am going to pull this off but at some point the plans are to download these blogs and stick them in a book. We have not done well with the whole 'baby book' thing, so maybe this could suffice. When I was a kid we had these slide projector thing-a-ma-jigs. It was a carousel of memories pulled out for special events. I can even remember the smell of that old projector - something akin to old oil, singed hair, and burnt silverfish. Every vacation, every birthday, every holiday is captured on a 1" x 1" square card filed away into the dark oblivion of 'The Hall Closet.' I vaguely remember holding those little slides up to the light trying to figure out which one of those micro people was me. Wait a minute, that wasn't those family slides I remember holding up to the light... it was the microfiche of a 1976 'nudie' magazine that my younger brother lifted from the public library. We were 10 - 12 years old and only interested in the articles I assure you.
All that to say, if you want to leave a comment for the kids feel free to do so. If you are a friend, a family member, a friend of the family, or the family of a friend, we'd love for you to leave your mark. I'm sure one day the kids will pull out these "old" blog books from the closets of oblivion and laugh at their clothes, their hair styles, and their out-of-touch / out-of-date parents.

Pigskins and Pumpkins

So, here's my dilemma. Here I am sitting at the front edge of fall and loving almost everything about it: those harvest moons that perfectly frame every spooky tale, the almost perfect weather, carving pumpkins, Saturday afternoon flag football games, Tuesday night soccer games, hayrides, bonfires, sitting outside with a dark roast dunkin donuts coffee by the fire pit, the smell of 68 degrees, the elongated shadows of fall, thinking about cruising around in my scout, leaves on the ground... you get the idea. All should be well in the Stockstill home, but... there are little quirks that keep things in a proper balance. Believe me, I'm not a ying yang type of guy but there always seems to be something ‘in our crawl’ even when things are going well.
For example: Last Saturday there was this little issue that I share with most Sooner fans… why can't we win the big ones? We likely will win 10 – 12 games this season, which for most is an outstanding season… but, we lost to Texas. I understand that the folks back at ESPN think last Saturday was a great game. (They thought the same thing about the Boise State debacle a couple of years ago). Unfortunately, both of these will games will show up in the annals of history as LOSSES. Good game or not, I'm tired of explaining to all my SEC fans that the Big XII is a great conference and OU really does belong in some of the great match-ups. Nowadays it’s not just my southern friends I'm trying to convince... it’s me.
Then we have this little thing called the election that is just around the corner. The older I get the more concerned I am about the type of world that we will pass on to our kids. My generation is a pretty demanding generation that wants our share of the pie, and we want it right now (hot out of the oven, with latticed crust, a side of bluebell homemade vanilla ice cream on the side, with a short fork, and a cup of coffee with one cream and one sugar… no, hold the sugar). I pray my kid’s generation is more appreciative of the things they have. I pray they grow up in a country that they are proud of: where red white and blue mean something special; where military hymns bring tears to their eyes; where the pledge of allegiance never goes out of style; and honor, respect and courage are good things.
I recently read through the book of Philippians, a letter the Apostle Paul wrote to a group of people while he was in prison. As I was reading it struck me as odd that the one in prison was the one writing words of encouragement. Typically its the other way around. How is that possible? One word... contentment. The perfect balance between drive and rest.

Only when we find contentment can we enjoy the moment.
Only when we find contentment can we enjoy people, places and things.
Only when we find contentment can we build a great nation for the generation to come.
Only when we find contentment can we enjoy pumpkins and pigskins.