He smells so good when he's fresh out of the bath.  Don't know why I look so tired here.

¶ 11:46 PM //

I’ve recently bought my plane ticket, and I’ll be leaving for Kyiv again on May 5th. In the meanwhile, I’ve got a few projects that local people might be interested in.

I’ll be doing a Puppet Workshop at Lake Michigan Christian Center on April 21st and 22nd. You can see the poster for it on my web log below. The main idea is to train puppet newbies for puppet ministry. This is open to anyone who wants to learn how to do puppetry, anyone who likes puppets, anyone who looks like a puppet, etc.

There is a fee of $10 which covers pizza, snacks, and any notes you might get. And keep in mind it’s a two day workshop. We’ll be covering basic manipulation (of puppets, not relationships), effective diction, how to do voices, and character development. And you’ll start to develop nice Popeye muscles because it’s more hands on then lecture.

The second big project is the Fritz Wolf Memorial Disc Golf Tournament. Before I came home from Kyiv, I emailed my dad about doing this tournament to raise the funds to run a week long summer camp for orphans in Ukraine. He had helped set up a course at the Lake Township Park and before I left, it was something we did together. I thought I could keep doing the tournament but as a tribute to dad.

If you’re unfamiliar with disc golf, you might know it as "Frisbee Golf" Here’s the best online summary I can find at a glance. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disc_golf.

The hope is to make it a big family fun day at the park. This will strictly be an amateur tournament with trophies, for four divisions. (Kids, Ladies, Beginner, and Advanced) I think most participants have never disc golfed before and a professional would just cream all of us. Everyone who participates will get a t-shirt. The cost is $20, which will again go for sending orphans to camp.

The date of this tournament will be June 17th at the Lake Township Park. All the details haven’t yet been established but I’ll keep you posted. Obviously I won’t be here for the big event, but some of my family and friends are going to help run it.

If you’re interested in either of these events, let me know with an email at captaincrouton (at) hotmail.com

¶ 8:45 AM //

I'll be home for a while longer than I intended, so I agreed to do a basic puppet workshop.  Just trying to make the most of my time here.

¶ 1:29 AM //

My dad and mom

¶ 8:52 AM //

It’s interesting how we have pieces of our parents and grandparents in our personalities. I suppose that just as parents pass down physical traits, like eye color and bone structure, they pass down personality and spiritual traits. So I’m a bit like my mom and a bit like my dad, a lot of God’s design and a whole bunch of how I choose to handle all of the above. So the sports fan in my dad made it into Kevin. The practical guy in my dad is a part of Nathan. Tanya inherited a bunch of my dad’s stubbornness and tenacity. And there are aspects of my dad that have become a part of me.
Say what you will about my dad, but he is a man of commitment. We never had to worry about my dad leaving my mom. He lived in the same town pretty much his whole life. He never found the need to change families, jobs, or churches. Growing up, we always had a sense of safety, security and stability. I know where Home is. I remember as a little boy hearing my parents argue and the word “divorce” was spoken. I completely freaked out and grabbed the phone, threatening to call Pastor Ziefle to straighten out my parents’ marriage. Their argument ended immediately as my parents reassured me that it was just spoken out of heated emotions. But I never heard the “D” word in my parents’ conversation again. I was told later in life that it was a Wolf family rule. A marriage may end in a shooting, but never, never in a divorce.
One idea that my dad engraved in my persona is the concept that church is central in our lives. The building you sit in today is the direct result of my dad’s literal blood, sweat and tears. I’m afraid I didn’t inherit my dad’s courage to climb scaffolding to the top of that forty foot ceiling to stain it the proper color. But the concept goes beyond that. Church was our social center. It’s not the building, it’s the family. People today come and go from churches, but my dad had too much invested to just leave on an offense. He was more than a spectator, he played on the field. Despite disagreements at times, I can’t imagine my dad ever leaving unless the church had completely lost its doctrinal integrity.
My dad loved openly, he loved physically. Some men are afraid to show affection but as kids he was always hugging on us, wrestling with us, and cuddling after tucking us into bed, often falling asleep and snoring loudly. He specifically told me that his dad never wrestled with him so I don’t know where he got that from. I can’t imagine his father being a hugger, I don’t really know. But he made his love evident. And that expression of love through touch was passed on.
My dad was quick to forgive. When he messed up, he regularly told us, “I lost my head.” He was even good to people who ripped him off. The rest of us could be furious about tenants who didn’t pay, or people that screwed him over regarding automobiles or services rendered. But my dad was merciful to his own hurt, and I saw him hurt by that sort of betrayal several times, without a desire for revenge.
Once I came home upset and ranting about some situation, and my dad calmly and simply said, “You know what Mark? People are no doggone good.” It felt like worthless advice. But that was my dad’s personal paraphrase on the scripture, “There is none righteous, no not one.” (Romans 3:10) We are all, to some degree, horse thieves and connivers, and once you realize your potential for being bad, you’re not so hard on others.
Most of all, my dad was a builder. We never talked about it but the thing that seemed to make my dad happy was a big project. He built our house. He built this church. In recent years, when he couldn’t do as much physically, he pushed the development of the Township Park, the disc golf course and the new baseball diamond and pavilion, the pond stocked with fish. Last week, soon after I got here, he drove me around, showing me the progress of all these things, proud of each step in the process, strategizing about getting rid of the moles.
Like my dad, I want to be someone who’s always building. Above all, I want to be useful. I don’t want to hope or complain about how things ought to be. I want to do something about it. I’m not here to deify my dad, he’s a pretty regular guy. But in the course of his life, he’s really given us some values that we can build on.

¶ 8:04 AM //