I still remember at least one line of poetry from high school. "Water, water everywhere." For lots of folks, that's not poetry right now. It's their town...their neighborhood...their house. The rivers are overflowing and backing up into every creek and stream they're connected to. It's a mess.

Honest, we didn't mean to be in northern Kentucky on Kentucky Derby weekend - but obviously thousands of people did. In trying to avoid flooding as we traveled, that's exactly where we managed to be. So there we were in the middle of rampant Derby Fever. No, I didn't bet on anybody, and I refuse to wear one of those floppy hats.

There's something about a princess.

I know our granddaughters sure think so. They've got princess dolls, princess sheets, princess tiaras - you get the picture. But they're not unusual. So many little girls, from so many generations, have grown up with dreams of being a princess. And what's at the center of Disney World's Fantasyland? Cinderella's Castle, of course.

The Royal Wedding has undoubtedly captured the fascination of millions.

The British royal wedding is big. But God's ultimate Royal Spectacle will be the biggest news the world has ever known!

Ron Hutchcraft weighs in with a powerful video blog: "The Ultimate Royal Spectacle."

Please view and share Ron Hutchcraft's "The Ultimate Royal Spectacle."

I was excited to learn that they'll be serving beetroot blinis at the Royal Wedding breakfast. And there will be edible flowers on the wedding fruitcake. Oh yeah - and there are 32,500 stitches in the waistcoats they're making for the footmen. Yes, the news folks have gone a little "daft" (British-ism) over the wedding of William and Kate.

I'm having some flashbacks today. Of some very special Easters Past. Often at a sunrise service. Like the Easter in Miami, with the sun rising over Biscayne Bay as I spoke about Jesus rising from the dead. Or the Easter morning, celebrating Jesus with Native Americans in a public park on an Idaho Indian reservation. And the one on the mountaintop near New York City.

Wow. One severe weather system behind us, another one coming. Welcome to Spring in Tornado Alley. Looks like our children will once again have their young children in bed with them before the night is over. And I'll be waking up during the night to the annoying alarm on our weather radio and that robotic voice of NOAA radio. But that's OK. There's a reason all those weather guys strongly urge you to have one of those life-saving radios. And why I strongly urge me to respond when the warning comes!

When the tornado sirens went off in town, I suddenly found myself huddled in a closet with two of my grandchildren. Oh yeah, and the local radio station on real loud. I'm not particularly thrilled about the style of music they play (which shall remain nameless), but they had the scoop on the storms.

As I'm reassuring the kids, I'm thinking, "I hope this closet will do it." Thankfully, we didn't have to test it. The tornado went north of us. At our own house, we've carefully thought through the safest place to be if we're suddenly on Twister Expressway. Our other children have basements. We're glad.

I wasn't expecting a goat to be my teacher. But something kind of special happened yesterday when a good friend of ours helped a new baby goat come into the world. Yes, you might say he was "kidding" around. But you shouldn't.

Right after this little wobbly arrived, his mother ran off and abandoned him (a sad picture of what happens even to some human children). That's when Sandy, the Great Pyrenees guard dog, came to the rescue. Our friend tried to remedy this heartbreaking situation by leaving the baby in a grassy area, near where the little guy had arrived. No deal. Then, Sandy went over to the newborn and started licking off his birth residue. This barnyard drama culminated as Sandy, carrying the little guy's scent, gently nudged the mother over to her baby. She got the point. Her mom instinct finally kicked in as she started licking her kid. In the animal kingdom, when you give your kid a licking, it's a nice thing.

Ninety-nine years ago this week, the unsinkable ship sank and some 1,500 passengers died. I've got my boarding pass for the Titanic. For real. They gave it to me at the entrance to a Titanic artifacts exhibit I went to. Except it doesn't have my name on it. It says "Mr. J. Pearse, Crew." Having the name of someone who was really there that night made what I saw a whole lot more personal.