We Have A Thing For Fruit

These past two weekends have been quite "fruitful" for us, you might say.  Apparently, we have a thing for picking fruit.  Or if we're not picking it, we're stomping on it.  I went back through some of my picture archives and found that over the years we have done lots and lots of picking of these:

Now we can add picking these to our ever growing list of things we like to pick off bushes/trees:

Minnesota seems to have an apple farm within a 5 mile radius of anywhere you go.  So, we thought it would be fun to pick apples off the trees instead of off the shelf of the grocery store.  But...maybe we picked the wrong apple orchard, or the wrong time of day, or the wrong part of the season because when we got there, we found more apples (and gardener snakes) on the ground than on the trees.

This is how we had to pick apples:

We had to send the brave ones up into the trees and climb as high as they could to get the ones on the very tippy top of the over-grown trees.  But even then, most of those apples were pock-marked with holes from birds or who knows what else.  

My dreams of walking through the orchard with a bushel basket of apples idealistically swinging from my arm was quickly fading.   Instead were the shrieks of "ew", "gross", "can we go now".    We could only find 5 acceptable apples to put in our beautiful basket.  So, we promptly walked back to the barn and picked up a pre-filled, ice cold bag of pre-picked apples for double what we would have paid at the grocery store.  $15 and 15 minutes later, dashed were our dreams of adding a new fruit to our ever expanding list of things we like to pick.

But have no fear, we found another fruit.  Instead of picking this fruit, we got to stomp on it!  Bonus.  We went to the annual St. Croix Vineyards Grape Stomp in Stillwater.  I had visions of this in my head:

Let's just say, that's not how they do it any more.  I would have loved it if I could have worn that get-up while stomping grapes in a teeny barrel.  But what no one tells you is that there are bees swarming all around and inside the barrel is full of wet, mushy, sticky, gooey, stainy grapes.  This was our experience in pictures:

Chuck was actually part of a contest with other adults to see who could stomp the 'best'.  He won a corkscrew for his efforts.

Chloe was in the barrel long enough to take the picture and promptly jumped back out.  This was not her cup of tea.

Bennett is having a little too much fun.  He's already splashed grape juice up the front and down the back of his shirt.   He's an 'aggressive stomper'.  I am having issues with the texture (and trying to stay free of grape juice stain).  Gavin's sensory issues and fear of bees would not even permit him to come anywhere close to those barrels of death.  He preferred sitting in the 70 degree weather and bemoaning how dreadfully 'hot' it was.  

But we did walk away with a picturesque shot (that Chuck took) of the stain that the grapes made on the floor.  Overall, it was a once in a lifetime experience.  Next time I'd rather pick the grapes instead of stomp on them.

Love Thy Neighbor

I just have to say:  I LOVE MY NEIGHBORS!  I've always dreamed of living in a neighborhood where people genuinely cared about one another.  I've had some awesome neighbors in the past and made some great friends in each of the places I've lived.  But each place lacked that sense of community that we all so desire.  The ironic thing is, we didn't even pick this house or this neighborhood on purpose.  It was a total fluke.  Let me tell you the story:

Chuck moved to Minnesota a month before the kids and I. The kids and I could not leave Texas until our current house sold and closed.   His job did not allow him to come home on the weekends or even pay for us to come up and do some house hunting.  We were adamant about buying a house right away and not renting.   We knew this would work best for our family. We don't do temporary living very well.  We wanted to get the kids established in a school and meet some friends and didn't feel renting and moving again in a year was in the best interest of the kids.  So we choose to find a house right away.

My favorite thing in the whole world to do (house hunt) and I didn't even get to look at one house.  Chuck did it all.  Granted, I got to see what he saw after the fact since he so graciously videotaped the floor of each house he walked thru (we had many a 'conversation' about his video taping ability).  So in a sense, I got to house hunt via the computer screen.  Chuck spent every spare minute he had after work and on the weekends looking for the perfect house for us.

It's so hard when you move to a new area.  You don't know where the 'good side' of town is.  You don't have the advantage of knowing what towns are desirable and what towns aren't.  We were house hunting blind.  Actually, we were house hunting by faith.  Sometimes that's one in the same thing.

We (I) had our hearts set on some certain features in a house.  We did not want a new build, we've had that before.  We wanted an established neighborhood with trees in the yards.  We did not want a flat lot with baby trees, something we could have easily had in Texas.  We wanted something unique to our new environment.  I was insistent on NOT having a split level.  Guess what I got?

The town we ended up moving to was not even on our initial radar screen.  The realtor decided to show it to us because it had a lot of what we were looking for, just not in the area we were originally looking.  Chuck called me after looking at it and told me he thinks he just found our house.  I didn't believe him.  First of all, from the pictures, it looked like a one level house and nowhere near big enough for us.  We wanted to downsize, but that seemed a little drastic.  Then, he told me that it was a split level, but not a split entry, big difference.  Okay, I could acquiesce once I had my little lesson in architecture.   I couldn't picture it, but I was excited that it had everything we wanted.  

So, without ever seeing the house, knowing it needed a little TLC, and not having a clue as to what kind of neighborhood or town we were moving to, we moved in 3 days after the kids and I moved to Minnesota.  I put a lot of trust in Chuck and even more in God, trusting that He was directing our steps.  

I had no way of knowing that this town, house, and neighborhood would fit us like a glove.  That the sense of community here was unknown to anything I'd ever experienced before.  People look out for one another and their kids.  We watch each others' dogs and mow each others' lawns. We congregate in each others' drive ways talking about our days, we pick things up for each other at the store, we help each other build, install and fix things.  We have impromptu parties.  We look for each others' lost dogs and bring each other food and flowers during hard times.  These people fill my soul.

Just a few weeks ago, Bennett and his friend a few houses down organized a Boys vs. Dads basketball game.  The girls went around to all the neighbors to announce the big game after dinner that night.  It was so much fun.  Sharing life together is such a gift.  I'm so thankful I had no control of what house I wanted to pick, I might have just picked on exterior qualities alone.  How dreadful it would have been to miss out on the gift of loving neighbors and having the chance to love in return.

This was not everyone who showed up, just those that made it in the picture.  And for the record, the Dads won that night.  But the boys won the rematch a few days later.  This is an on going saga that is not looking good for the Dads.

Higher Order Thinking

On the last week of summer vacation, the kids and I visited the Science Museum of Minnesota.  I highly recommend it if you're ever in the area.  I've been to alot of science museums in a lot of the major U.S. cities and this one was very well done.  They had this awesome science experiment area for kids ages 8 and up.  They actually got to put on lab coats, safety glasses and latex gloves and get down and dirty with some awesome experiments.  Gavin chose to do the Chromosome Identification experiment where he got to isolate a chromosome from a fly larva.  I guess some people like that kind of stuff.  Not me.  I like to take pictures.

I have to say, Gavin looked a little too comfortable in his white lab coat.  He acted like he understood all this science stuff around him.  He knew how to work the massive microscope.  He didn't gag (like me) when he was told to try to put the tip of the tweezers right on the middle of the larva so it wouldn't wiggle so much.  He had a perfect tried but true contemplative expression.

So, I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was by his declaration at dinner tonight,  "Mom. I think I'd like to be a Theoretical Physicist when I grow up.  Like that guy on Sci-Fi Science."

"Oh. Really?  Uh...what exactly does a Theoretical Physisisisict....do?"

"They sit around thinking up ideas and get other people to do them.  I don't actually like to build things, but I love to come up with ideas about new things and ways of doing them."

"Exactly!  I knew there was a name for that!   You'd be perfect at that!  No wonder you love to incorporate all that kind of stuff in your writing.  And all your years of sci-fi reading have probably propelled your imagination even further.  Buddy, you have the perfect mind for that!  Go for it!  I'm so excited for you!"

Nicknames

Apparently now you may request your own nickname.  Or at least Chloe thinks so.  I called to her to ask her to come set the table.  It is at that point she decides she's had enough of my calling her "pumpkin".  She pronounces her new plans, "Mom, every .time you want to call me pumpkin, would you mind calling me 'cheri' instead?  It means 'little one' in French.  It's what Cecile's Father always calls her."

"Oh.  Ok.  Who's Cecile?"

"Moooommm!  Cecile - in American Girl. She lives in Louisiana."

"Oh.  Ya.  Now I know.  But I think they say 'mon cheri' meaning, 'my little one'."

She contemplates my counter offer. To my astonishment she accepts.

I later look it up in an official source since I don't speak French (Google, of course).  Come to find out it actually means 'my love' or 'my darling'. I have to agree.  I think I like it even better than 'pumpkin'.

Mercy

I have the joy and privilege of homeschooling again.  This time it is Chloe.  She requested near the end of last year that I homeschool her saying the public school was "too easy" and that she wanted to "learn the hard stuff".  She loved being at school; loved her teachers; enjoyed the friends she had made.  I didn't quite take her seriously.  I thought it would pass.  But it didn't.  She insisted that she be homeschooled (again).

I prayed long and hard about it.  Part of me was excited the other part of me scared to death.  I was really enjoying being just "mom" and not wearing the "teacher" hat as well this past school year.  That was something that had begun to weigh heavily on me over my 7 years as a homeschool mom.  But I also felt oddly out of place - home alone.  I looked for all types of things to fill my time.  Volunteering took up a good 3 days.  The other two days were full of depression and loneliness.  I had an empty nest and I had no clue what to do with it.

It took me a good year to just let go of all my expectations of myself.  To learn to just rest - to let myself rest.  To realize I wasn't what I do; I am who I am no matter what I am doing or not doing.  I can't believe I had to learn that lesson all over again, but I did.  It was humbling, yet beautiful.  I would do it all over again to be where God has me right now.

So, I found it very odd that after I had just come to peace with being alone all day and not "doing" anything, that God would have me jump back into homeschooling.  I enjoyed helping out at the kids' school.  I enjoyed all my volunteer jobs.  I finally found some purpose and now I had to give that up to go back to homeschooling?  Am I crazy?  Apparently.

Sometimes what God asks us to do doesn't make sense...now.  Later in life we might have the opportunity to understand.  Or maybe we'll never understand. Either way, I have learned that following the peace He gives me when I know I'm on the path He's directing me down is the best place to be - even when it doesn't make sense.

But I had a lot of homeschool demons to deal with.  I forever felt inadequate, like Moses felt speaking to Pharoh.  I always felt I wasn't the 'right' teacher for my kids...that they needed this or that type of person.  Not me.  I'm way too intense.  I'm way too organized.  I have very high expectations.  I'm strict.  I'm not a fun teacher.  Funny how the emphasis is always on me.  Kind of ironic actually.  I'm supposed to be doing this for my child and all I can think of is me?  If God told me to do this, He's going to enable me to do it through His power, not my own.  How about I try again this time, but with the proper focus?

Then my other fear struck...the parent one.  Chloe and I seem to be at odds a lot.  She likes to listen to everyone but me.  She argues with me...alot.  She cries whenever I ask her to do anything.  She manipulates her way into or out of anything.  Some days I don't feel strong enough to be the parent.  If I can't make her keep her room picked up, how can I make her learn her times tables.  If I can't be sure she's putting her clothes away and not shoving them under her bed, why would she listen to me while I'm explaining her history lesson?

This was weighing heavily on me the eve before school began.  Then I decided to "give it to God" - something I should have done before I let all the worries take root in my mind and heart.  When I told God that I was really needing Him to show me what to do and how to handle this, He spoke one phrase to me, "Mercy triumphs over judgement".  My heart dropped to my stomach.  I guess I wasn't really expecting an answer...a nice warm feeling maybe, a peace to wash over me, my anxiety to leave...but an honest to goodness answer - wow!

I knew immediately what He meant.  I can be a stickler that her room is always in perfect order.  I can demand her desk be pristine each and every day.  I can huff and puff and shake my head when she accidentally 'forgets' to do as I've asked her.  I can 'create' the 'perfect' listening robot of a child.  My judgment will make sure of that.  The way I judge her actions will speak louder to her than any other lesson I am trying to teach her.  She will only feel criticized.  She will feel that what she does is more important than who she is.  She will associate love as conditional upon proper behavior.  That is not what I want to teach!  I want mercy to triumph over judgment.  Everyone changes (eventually) when treated mercifully.  The mercy in my words, demeanor and actions will do more to change her heart and her future than my harshness with one more mistake on her part.  She'll live in fear of my judgement and change only out of fear.  If I treat her with mercy, she will become merciful.  That is what I want my daughter to grow up to be.

Now that I had my 'lesson plan' I was excited to start.  The only thing about this new lesson plan is that it keeps me humbled before my Savior moment by moment.  I can still follow the lesson plan I spent all summer preparing so that her studies go well.  But I sense the bigger picture, the whole reason God prompted her to want this time with me all along was not for a better education, but for time together, nurturing her heart and growing in it mercy and compassion.

As of late, time seems to be flowing like a raging river.  Where did the years go when they were all in diapers and my biggest challenge was getting everyone down for naps on time?  How did that little stream suddenly evolve into the speedy Colorado River?  Are there any falls up ahead?  Does time ever go back to a simple trickle of a gentle stream?  Since I don't know those answers, I'm going to make the most of every precious day I get with my amazing daughter.  I'm going to pour love and wisdom and mercy into her and cherish each amazing day.

God spoke those words to me just in time.  How I wished I would have heard them sooner.

How Lucky I Am

The other day I was yucky sick.  Try as I may, I just couldn't act normal or pretend I felt well any longer.  I wanted to just curl up on my bed and moan.  Come 7:30pm, I couldn't take it anymore and dismissed myself from our pizza and movie night (we were watching "Ratatouille" which only caused my already nauseous self to want to cover my mouth and flee the room).  As I made my announcement that I was going to go take an early bath and lay on my bed, the three kids bolted up right and ran upstairs.  Chuck held me back, telling me that they had a surprise for me.

The last thing I wanted was a surprise. I wanted to not think, talk or be nice.  I just wanted to close my eyes to the world and make the pain stop.  But I held out this long, what's a few more minutes?  Once they came back downstairs, I was allowed to go up.

To my utter astonishment, they had prepared my bath for me.  Not only that, they cleaned it, ran my water, put in bubbles, lit the candles and put on some Yo-Yo Ma background music.  I was humbled and overwhelmed by love.  My bath was that much sweeter and relaxing.

I know Chuck organized this little relief effort for me, but the kids had been feeling awful all day that there was nothing they could do to help me feel better.  Once Chuck gave them an idea, they ran with it and were just so happy to do anything at all to help.

You know how Gavin asks me ten times a day, "How are you doing today Mom?" just to make sure I'm good so that all can be right in his world?  Well, when my answer is, "I'm not doing so well today, Honey." he doesn't know what to do.  There is no back-up plan in place.  Now that I'm not good, he's not good.  Bennett spent the majority of the day rubbing my feet and asking to cuddle me in my bed and read books together.  Chloe would rub my hair and face and do her best at her feminine nurturing techniques.  She even told me the next day, "Mom, we hate it when you're sick. It feels like we're all in mourning until you get better."

How lucky I am!

I Am Full

In Jesus I am full.

all I am,

all I want, 

all I need,

is already in me

filling me daily 

with his lovingkindness.

It seeps out in

words,

actions,

thoughts,

to all surrounding me,

unconditionally.

In Jesus I am full.

Without Him I need religion.

 It leaves me empty,

hungry,

longing.

Rules keep me safe.

Being right is paramount.

Love is conditional.

I lack,

I need,

I seek.

I look all around me

to fill the void.

The affirmation,

acceptance,

accolades, 

only fill me a short while.

I need more.

The cycle of religion

repeats and hungers daily.

In Jesus I am full.

Love wins.

Always.

With everyone,

my enemy,

my neighbor,

my friend,

my self.

I love out of fullness

not to be loved in return

out of thankfulness

for the blanket of love

that encompasses me.

The only thing that matters

is the one thing I already have:

Jesus.

I am full.

Math

It is no secret that I am not a fan of math.  Not the basics of course, that I get.  And I honestly enjoyed Algebra 1 when I took it in 8th grade.  But I've just not found a use for it since then.  Thus, logic would lead one to believe that since I haven't practiced that particular math muscle in, oh...26 years, I might be a bit rusty in this field of thinking and processing information.

It would also make sense that since I (for lack of a better term) hate math, Gavin would absolutely love it.  In order to keep that math muscle strong, I had all the kids continue doing math all summer long.  This goes back to my utter and complete failure as a math student in 3rd grade.  I forgot how to subtract between 2nd and 3rd grade!  Seriously.  I had no clue which side you started on if you were subtracting two digit numbers. Right side or the left?  Apparently, the creative side of my brain was pushing for more space and my short term memory loss was beginning even then.  So it would make sense that I would want to spare my own children the humiliation of having to ask their teacher how to do subtraction again at the start of each new school year.

Since Gavin is years beyond me in his math reasoning and comprehension level, I found someone who could teach him for me.  It is called Khan Academy and it is golden!  You can learn so much through this awesome website, not just math.  The instructor talks you through the lesson as you watch him work through problems on screen.  Genius!  Gavin happens to love this.  Each video can range from 5 minutes to 20 minutes.  He couldn't wait to do them each day.  Even on days I told him he didn't have to do it he begged to because he said he was really looking forward to learning the 'next thing'.  Whatever.

And being that he is Gavin, he can't wait to share what he's learning with me.  I love that about him.  He gets so excited about learning that he just has to talk about it and I usually get to be the lucky recipient.  That's all fine and good when it comes to history or literature and even science.  But when he starts throwing math words at me, I seem to shut down.  Just the other day he learned how to Invert a Matrix and promptly sat me down at the island to have me watch him work through his problem.

This was wrong on so many levels.  First, I don't even know what a matrix is besides a movie.  I think matrix and a picture of graph paper pops in my head.  I have no idea why.  Secondly, I know invert means to turn something inside out or upside down but how in the world would one do this with math?  More importantly, why would anyone want to do this with math?  I know my incompetence and ignorance is shining brightly even by admitting such questions.

So I do the motherly thing and watch Gavin as he multiplies lots of numbers and puts them in weird places.  Every once in a while I throw him a bone like, "oh ya, when you're multiplying negatives and positives the product is usually negative" just so it looks like I'm paying attention and that my brain really does work (even if not at the same level).

We got interrupted at least 3 times while he was working through this problem that was way too long in my opinion.  I asked him what real world application inverting a matrix has and he told me, "I don't know, but they're fun to do."  Spoken like a true lover of math.  He then advised that if I really wanted to understand, it would be best if I watched the videos.  I tried.  I got a whole 1:09 into the first video titled, "Introductions to Matrices" and then my brain just shut down.

Gavin, I wish you all the happiness in your future math endeavors.  I will be more than happy to listen to, watch, and smile at your presentations and explanations but I can't promise any comprehension or intelligent conversation at the end.  But I can write a good story about it.

Learning All The Time

How lucky we were to be a host family this summer for the St. Paul Intercultural Institute.  This summer has been proof that we never stop learning in life!  We learned so much from having Nao as our exchange student.  I'm forever thankful for this opportunity to have her come experience life with us in Minnesota.  To be honest, I don't know that I could have been as brave as Nao was.  Every single thing she experienced was new for her.  She had  never been to the U.S. before.  I'm pretty sure her culture shock was massive.

One of the most interesting things I learned from her was that she felt Japanese people were very polite but Americans were very friendly.  She loved all the green and trees and lakes surrounding her.  She said she would miss the beauty of the area very much.

As Americans, we are used to giving our opinion, asked or unasked.  In Japan, this just is not done.  You do whatever is expected of you whether you like it or not.  You do not state your opinion.  Even sitting in class all day at Bethel University was difficult for Nao because in our culture we expect student participation and talking.  In Japanese culture, you listen to the instructor who is more knowledgeable than you.   You do not speak.

Nao said that she missed Japanese food the most.  But shockingly, she loved everything we gave her to eat.  I know I would never be as brave as that...to eat anything given to me in a new and vastly different culture. I admire her.  She even said she liked my cooking!  That was the icing on the cake for me.

We appreciated her soft-spoken ways and her flexibility to do any and everything we did.  That included alot of basketball in this basketball crazy house.  She loved playing games with the kids.  She picked up on our favorite card game super fast and was the Uno champion the whole time during her stay here.

I also learned that in Japan they do not show physical affection.  Nao said that she had never seen her mother or father hug or kiss but still knew they loved each other because she felt it in the atmosphere.  Imagine her shock when seeing Chuck and I hug and kiss all the time! Or when I hug on the kids and tell them I love them multiple times a day.  This is a huge cultural difference I had no clue about.  Nao was very kind to let us hug her as much as we did.

We told her at the beginning of her stay that we are a "crazy American family".  I don't think she understood what I was talking about.  By the end of her stay however, she knew exactly what a "crazy American family" was.

It is not the same without her here.  We miss her.  Her place at the table is empty.  Look what a difference 3 short weeks can make in our lives.  We connected with someone from the other side of the world...and we found out that we are more the same than different.  But we appreciated each other's differences and each learned how to "love our neighbor" as ourselves.

I Am The Moon

I am the moon

just a rock

dirty, dusty, dented

there’s no beauty in me

except that which I reflect,

the Son.

The beautiful and brilliant

radiates in me

reflects through me

resonates from me.

I am the moon.

I shine because of Him

not because of me.

The beauty seen in me

is only the glory of Him

shining in the dark

to give 

comfort and love 

 hope and light 

to all

in the dark of night.

I am the moon

created to shine 

because of the Son,

for the Son,

by the Son.

I am noticed only

when I’m reflecting

His radiant light.

I have none of my own

I cannot help the sun shine

I can only be

and let him do the rest in me.





(picture credit: Picasa Web Albums, Crescent Moon, Earthshine, Venus Copyright 1989 Jerry Lodriguss)

Running For Kids Who Can't

That is the by-line for the Miracles of Mitch Foundation that puts on the triathlon the kids ran yesterday.    After my kids watched the video on the website, they couldn't wait to sign up for the chance to do it.  They even wanted to immediately go out and start training.  What I love, love, love about this organization is that they give kids an opportunity to help other kids.  The kids feel like they can actually make a difference - because they do!

We trained for over a month, running, biking and swimming almost everyday.  We practiced (as a family) doing all three of them together and transitioning from being wet to drying off and getting all our gear on to ride our bikes.  Even a 'kid sized' triathlon put Chuck & I out of commission for the rest of the day after practicing with the kids.  But the kids learned such beautiful lessons that their commitment to this task taught them.  Character traits that are learned by doing, not just reading or hearing about such as:  endurance, perseverance and discipline.

I'm so proud of them.  Not just for wanting to do this and for training so hard and for raising money all on their own to help benefit the kids and their families, but for acting out of a compassionate heart.  They saw a need and knew they could help.  That's what I love.  To quote a missionary in Ghana, "I'm responsible for the ones he places in front of me."  The needs of people and the world around us seem so great, overwhelming at times.  But when an opportunity to help meet those needs presents itself, I love that my children responded with hearts filled with compassion.  Not looking for something they could get out of it...but knowing that what they were giving was the greater gift.

Love in action.

This organization mailed each of the kids a packet that included the name and picture of their very own child (they call them All-Stars) they were helping.  Everyday the kids thought of, talked about, prayed for and wondered about their All Star.  When they were training and getting tired, they thought about what their All Star must be feeling and that propelled them on.  They put the needs of someone else before themselves.  I have been trying (futilely) to instill this lesson in my precious people - to no avail. This experience did what I could not.

The most heart wrenching time during the day of the triathlon was right before the race was to begin.
All the All-Stars and kids paraded into the main area where we were all congregated.  Seeing the kids and families we were doing this for just brought it all home.  I don't think there was a dry eye around.  Some of the All-Stars even tried to run the race.  I can't imagine being in the shoes of one of those families, wondering daily if my child would live to the next day.


The energy was palpable.  The racers (ages 7 - 17) were strangely subdued.  They were reverent, in awe and very respectful.  I couldn't tell if it was nerves or just the realization of the enormity of the impact they were making when they saw the large group of them together (1100 kids) and the All-Stars.  It was truly a beautiful moment.

This morning, the day after the race, as soon as Chloe wakes up she says, "I wish I could run the triathlon again today!  I just can't wait till next year when we can do it again."  I think that says it all about the impact it had on them.

Waiting for the race to start

The transition zone

 The All-Stars they were racing for

A small portion of the sea of kids 

during the opening ceremonies

This was the part Chloe liked the best - all the cheering 

and high fives from the crowd as she made her way to the finish line. 

A Windy Day

It was a beautiful, crisp morning.  High 60's with a gusty, cool wind swirling around us.  We were taking Ninja for her morning walk.  The air smelled like fall was approaching.  We were talking about the differences in the seasons and the joys and memories each of them brought.

Chloe is walking barefoot with her hair down and uncombed (it's constant natural state) and after a few moments of contemplation says in her very feminine, carefree way, "Mom, I just love it when the wind billows my hair."

"Billows, huh?  Where'd you hear that?"

"I've just always known it."

Lucky you.  Too bad my hair was in a pony tail.  No billowing going on for me today.  I'm too practical to enjoy billowing hair.