Posts Categorized: Patience

How’ve YOU Been Feeling?

Two weeks ago, last Wednesday, Kevin phoned and said could I please come and be with Peter. He’d been sick with something that had swept through Fort Worth, knocking over kids like bowling pins. He was better, but still running a little fever, which meant he could not go back to preschool on Thursday, and Kevin, who’d been at home for a couple of days, and April, a teacher at Peter’s preschool, really needed to get back to work. “And,” he said, “if you get here by 5:00, April and I can go to church and teach Mini Maestros (their little preschool music group).”

“Sure,” I said. And I went on up. Peter wasn’t all that sick, except for a rather epic sneeze situation, with adult-type output. There were tissue boxes in every room of the house, at kid level, and trash cans. We played and read books and had a very nice time. There was one instance when he wasn’t near a tissue box when the parent-of-all-sneezes occurred. He looked down at the catastrophic pool on his tummy, and said, “I need to change my shirt.” Which he did.

On Thursday, I got a concert:

When I woke up, I did find this pile of used tissues between us. While he was sleeping, I emptied the trash, and practically filled it up again.

When I woke up, I did find this pile of used tissues between us. While he was sleeping, I emptied the trash, and practically filled it up again.

After lunch, I was falling asleep while reading to him and finally said, “Peter, Mimi has got to have a little nap. You can play in your room and I’ll lie down on your bed and nap for a few minutes.” He ended up getting in bed, too, with a box of tissues. I had put his trash can next to the bed. Just as I was falling asleep, he whispered, “Mimi. My trash is overflowing.” “Well,” I whispered back, “I’ll empty it after I nap.” “Where can I put my tissues,” he asked. “Just put them here on the bed, and I’ll throw them away after I empty your trash can.”

 

Saturday, I got some writing work done. Sunday, as I was getting ready to go to church, I felt a little bit of a scratchy throat. Hmmmm. If thing was as contagious as they said, then I did NOT need to spend the morning with preschoolers at church. So hurried up to church to leave things, contacted other teachers, and stayed home. And did some writing work. On Monday, also. I walked on the treadmill, but at half my usual speed, went to bed early, and on Tuesday, could not get out of bed. I would think, “I must get up and do some work.” And I would roll over to get out of bed, and fall asleep before I’d gotten all the way over. Except for trips to the bathroom (to check my glucose level and take my temperature), I stayed in bed all day. ALL. DAY.

I was quite a bit better Wednesday, and was able to sit up for extended periods, finish up a bunch of writing and send it off to my editor. But I stayed really weak, and, on Sunday, I was too woozy to feel secure about being in a room with preschoolers, and missed another Sunday. Monday I was quite a bit better. Tuesday, I was in bed most of the day with some intestinal thing. Seriously. No Valentine’s Day dinner out. Wednesday, I actually left the house, for the first time in over a week. I went to Target.

I called Jeremy a few days ago, for a reason I don’t recall now, but I said, “There was something rolling through Fort Worth.” Jeremy said, “It’s rolling all over the country.” He and Sarah both had it. TWICE! And, as far as he was concerned, the absolute worst part was that it snowed in New York and he was unable to go out and play in it. I had lunch yesterday with a friend from Corpus Christi. Where it also rampaged through.

The annoying cough is back, after a brief hiatus. As is the intestinal thing. My wastebaskets are overflowing, and I am ready to feel better. Lots Better! Maybe I’ll phone the doctor.

I hope you are having sunny weather and sunny health.

 

Beloved, I pray that all may go well with you and that you may be in good health, as it goes well with your soul.

3 John 2 (English Standard Version)

Amen

 

Why Is EVERYTHING So Much HARDER Than It SHOULD Be?!?!?

In our previous house, the fridge was several feet away from the stove and sink. In this house, the fridge is just an arm’s reach from the sink. As I organized the kitchen when we moved in, I put my kitchen shears, which I use really often, on a metal hook on the side of the fridge. And then I put my nice big strainer up there, too. Not so much because I use it all the time (the way I do the shears). But, it took up more room in a drawer than I liked. Then, I got these verrrrry strong magnet hooks, and stuck them on the side of the fridge to hold the shears and the strainer.

Recently, I’ve had to admit that the strainer had come to the end of its safe usefulness. There were sharp pointy parts at the bottom and things were wearing really thin. So, I threw it away, lest I say to myself at some point, “Oh, it’s not really all that bad. I can strain a few more tortellini.” It was that bad.

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I Had an epiphany

The capitalized, or upper-case, Epiphany, refers to Twelfth Night, or the end of the Christmas season, the last of the Twelve Days of Christmas (the one with the twelve drummers drumming), celebrated in some churches as the festival commemorating the visit of the three kings. The lower-case “epiphany” is defined as “an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure,” used in a sentence like, “One epiphany came when a dozen engineers in northern New Mexico saw a lone, fading Xerox paper carton bobbing in a swamp of old motor oil at the bottom of a pit.” —Michelle Conlin, Business Week, 1 Nov. 1999 (This quote is from dictionary.com. And, I don’t know about you, but I intend to track down that article and find out what that amazing epiphany was**. But that’s not what this post is about.)

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The Game’s Afoot

 

When Kevin, and then Jeremy, were at TCU, I used to visit Hulen Mall in Fort Worth pretty regularly. It was sort of on the way to the university—just a matter of where one turned off I35. There was a Container Store in front of the mall, and right across the street there was a Border’s Bookstore. Lots to do. After graduation, Kevin moved to the Cultural District; Jeremy eventually moved over there, too. Kevin and April still live in that area. Jeremy and Sarah married and moved to Brooklyn. The Border’s moved much closer to Kevin and April. Then, that store closed down, and The Container Store moved into the old Border’s spot. So, all in all, I don’t have much reason to visit the Hulen Mall area any more. Until yesterday. I was on my way to hear a speaker at a Fort Worth library which was really close to the Mall, and I’m on a quest to find a skirt with pockets, which turns out to be a much more difficult task that any sensible person might imagine. Maybe it is nonsense, but I tried.

 

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Hello, Tim? This Is Mom.

I guess there’s always been some sort of disconnect between generations. The older folks have to get used to new-fangled things like cars instead of horses and buggys. And, televisions instead of radios. And radios instead of, um, people sitting around campfires and telling stories and sharing news. Mail instead of smoke signals and drums. Microwave ovens. Computers. (Insert red-faced angry emoticon here.) Emoticons instead of actual words.

Actually, I’m fond of computers. They make my life easier in lots of ways. Until they don’t.

And we’ve had a computer in the house for about 35 years. (Ollie, Mollie, Gollie, can it have been that long?) The first one was barely more than a toy, but I did a lot of writing on it. Then we bought an Apple II from a school friend of Kevin’s who was getting a new computer. Then, we bought, TA-DAH, a Mac Classic. The screen on that computer was about one-fourth the size of what I have now. THEN, we got an IMac. THEN, it got stolen. THEN, we replaced it with a new IMac, but it was RED. And then David got his own IMac (blue), and we were a two-computer family.

That was two or three computers ago, and I cannot even tell you what I have now, except that it’s bigger and faster. (Not great big, just bigger.) It came with “El Capitan” software. Then the word processing program said it could upgrade but I would need to upgrade my operating system and … (insert imagined conversations between me and Jeremy here) … so I did, rather accidentally, start the upgrading process to install the Sierra operating system and it always take so much longer than I expect, so I went to bed. Then, the next morning, THERE’S A NEW BACKGROUND PICTURE ON MY COMPUTER.

I liked the previous picture. Apparently, the previous picture actually was El Capitan. And the new picture is (you know this already, don’t you) actually Sierra. That’s how far behind the curve I am with many things “computer.”

THEN the phone said: new operating system; upgrade now! Or something like that. So I did. And, TA-DAH, I can’t find stuff on my phone. So, in a royal snit I called Jeremy. “I can’t find anything. Nothing’s where it’s supposed to be. This is making me NUTS!!! Who’s responsible for this? I know Steve Jobs died. Who’s running things now? Who is it that I want to go to Seattle and throttle?!?!?!?”

Tim Cook

This is Tim Cook who actually lives in Cupertino, California.

I suppose some folks, the younger, hipper folks, who grew up knowing how to use a computer the way my generation knew how to do things our parents couldn’t, even though nothing comes to mind right away, they like all the changes, and like changes all the time.

Both sons are basically kind and patient with me when I phone them for help. And when I phone them for help, it’s because I’ve tried and tried and cannot find the solution to whatever problem I may be having, so I’m not particularly patient. I don’t want to be walked through some scenarios and look for things to try, I want it TO WORK. NOW!

Sometimes when I phone for help, they will say: "Did you follow the steps on Jeremy's chart?"

Sometimes when I phone for help, they will say: “Did you follow the steps on Jeremy’s chart?”

 

Even so, Jeremy sent me a schematic for computer problem-solving. And, as you can see, there are notes on Post-Its that tell me how to do things. Still, I call, because there’s always some new thing I need help with. Which led us to a conversation about what sorts of phone calls Tim Cook might get, from his mom. “Hello? Tim, honey? HELP ME!! I can’t get this silly computer to: a) send a photo; b) send a letter; c) balance my checkbook; d) show me how to get to the zoo; e) 30,000 other things. Choose one. Or all.

 

 

When Kevin was here over Labor Day weekend, he was doing something on my computer (10 years old), and remarked how slow it was. Indeed. And he looked up new computers and said, “If you order this by 5:00, you can get it tomorrow.” What! Huh? “The beauty of it is that I’ll be here to set it up,” he went on. So, long story short, that’s what we did.

computers

Funny how photos of one’s own desk never look as nice and neat as the ones in catalogs, that show a desk that no one has ever actually done much work on.

Please go ahead and click to get the whole image. Yes, you’re seeing right. There’s the new computer, and on the shelf above, the old computer and a television. I’m in the process of moving things from old to new and making sure nothing important gets left behind. So, yes, there are two screens, two keyboards, and two mouses (is the plural for more than one computer mouse mouses or mice. Mice just seems wrong.)

And, as Kevin was putting all the computer stuff together, he said, casually, “you know there’s no disc player.” WHAT?!? How do I play CDs? DVDs? Apparently, I’m supposed to download music and get a streaming service. Really, I prefer going to the library and checking stuff out, for free. I’m sooooo not a modern girl. When we ordered the computer, we got an external disc drive, too. I can only make a limited number of changes at a time.

 

 

 

                                                                  

   Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift? The fruit of the womb his generous legacy?

Psalm 127:3 (The Message)

And so helpful, too.