It just keeps on raining. I know better than to think that summer’s going to be all balmy and pleasant. It was 82 on Thursday and will be that warm later next week. At some point, soon, it’ll be so hot that I’ll break into a sweat just by stepping out the front door to get the mail. But, for now, it’s very nice.

There was that large lake-like puddle at the back of the yard. It abated, but you can  see the where the water line is. I can walk around back there, but it’s still pretty muddy. And seriously, look how much leaf growth has come out on those hedges that lost all their leaves back in March (after the awful February freeze).

Last year, I bought five plants that I’d hoped would grow and fill these plant supports, because, as you can see, the grass doesn’t grow up to the fence. They weren’t lush, but they were growing.  Until February. Then, they were little bare sticks. For weeks, I looked them over. Nothing. For weeks. Then, one started to put out a few leaves. Hmm, not exactly a Ta-Dah moment. But then, another one leafed out. Two out of five. Not spectacular. Then, I’m not kidding, another one put out some leaves. If you were to label them: 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, plants 1, 3, and 5 were leafing out. Two and 4? Nothing. But now, I’m thinking I should wait a while longer before pulling up those bare sticks. Maybe?

Because I’ve needed to do some thyme pruning, I looked up how and when, etc., to take care of my thyme plants. One of the first things I read was that I should harvest my thyme plants before they flowered. Hmmm. Oh Dear. I’d been really charmed by the pretty little white flowers that some of the thyme plants were putting out. Bees came to the flowers, and I enjoyed watching them flit around when I was moving some liriope plants to a different place and putting some bricks across the lower border. So now, it is way to late for those plants to be at their peak. But, seriously, it’s not like I don’t have some other choices here. And, it doesn’t seem like all the varieties do bloom.

Two or three years ago, I went to the work place of a friend who works with a helping agency. Part of what he does is to help people learn how to grow a garden to provide fresh, wholesome vegetables for their family. I saw an interesting plant and he said it was Malabar spinach. Oh, I said, I don’t really like spinach. Well, he said, then grow it because it’s an attractive plant. He said it would grow and twine around a trellis. So I got some, and for the previous two or three years, I grew a whole trellis full of the plant. It would die back in the winter and come back in the spring. This year, I waited and waited and it didn’t show up. Alas. The trellis is in the bed where I also have some Hosta plants, so I was alert to weeds, etc., coming up. Three weeks, or so, ago, I was pulling weeds and all those little plants that come up, not particularly wanted, and there were a bunch more of those little seedling things, and as I pulled out the last one, I thought, Hmmm, were those some of the Malabar Spinach seeds that have just needed some time (after February) to germinate. Well, too bad for me, then. I’d pulled them all up. But, I’d been checking, just to be sure, and more of those little seedlings are coming. I can’t tell, yet, if it’s the spinach, after all. I’ll just have to wait a little longer. Hope so. The trellis is all ready!

The White-Edged Hosta has some flowers, and to the right of the blooms (hard to see) is a bud for more.

Yes, I know Paul is talking about people, but I’m paying attention to the analogy. If no one plants seeds and no one waters them, then there aren’t going to be any vegetables. Or fruits. Or bread.

Here in Central Texas, we’re having the Storm Before the Lull.

Every time it rains, I’m thrilled. It’s springtime, and so lots of rain isn’t unusual. But, usually by mid-June or so, rainfall is a distant memory. Now, the trees look great, the lawns look lovely, the flowers are blooming. And we’re needing to have the sprinkler systems checked because it’s not going to keep on raining every time we turn around. The temperature will be rising, the sun’ll be beating down pretty regularly, and all the living things, flora and fauna, will be starting to wilt in the heat.

And it will be like that until September, or maybe later.

Sure, there might be a rain shower. Every now and then. Maybe.

But for now, summer’s heat seems like a distant omen that we understand might be coming, but we’ve sort of put it out of our minds.

Here’s what happened a couple of days ago: Tuesday is the day the mowers come, and they do three yards on a row on our block. They moved the mowers off the truck, hurried into mowing mode, racing around my and my neighbors yards, trimming, blowing away the leaves and grass, and quickly and efficiently getting our yards into shape. Then, they packed up and roared away. Very efficient.

I needed to make a trip to the drug store, which I did right after the mowers were done. And, a bit later, after I was back home, I walked by the front door and saw that torrents of rain were pouring down. “Well,” I thought. “That explains their rush.”

It rained like that for the rest of the day and into the night.

The next morning, here’s what I saw in my back yard. A bit of a lake. Rain had fallen, nonstop, for several hours.

Peter’s wading pool, which has several uses besides splashing around in the water. It can be a roof. It can be a wall for a structure. It can be a sand box. And, if I don’t empty it out soon, it can be a breeding ground for mosquitoes.

So versatile.

All the rain has made the front yard look great. The small dead part at the base of the light is the result of that February freeze. It is a little bit slow coming back. I’m sure it’ll come around.

But all in all, it’s been a very nice spring around here.

My teaching, let it fall like a gentle rain, my words arrive like morning dew,
Like a sprinkling rain on new grass, like spring showers on the garden.

Deuteronomy 32:2 (The Message Translation)

I believe I’m going to start taking my Bible study stuff outside each morning. I could use some teaching falling like a gentle rain, arriving each morning like dew.

That’s what the tree guys said, a couple of weeks ago, after some seriously severe trimming of the hedges in our backyard.

The hedges along the side yard didn’t get the epic pruning, because the neighbor next door likes the tallness and fullness that creates some privacy for her yard. The tree guys did a little bit of trimming, but not much, and those hedges are coming back nicely. The bigger hedges at the back seem bare. They don’t exactly look dead. Just bare. Wait and see.

On Wednesday, after spending some time outside, working on plants on the patio, I walked to the back of the yard to take a look. And . . .

Ta-Dah!! It’s happening. I waited. And I saw!

I don’t even know what kind of plants these are. A friend, who lost some plants during the big icy/snowy weather we had back in February, asked what the hedges were. I have no idea. If Daddy had some kind of book or list of what he’d planted over the years, it got lost. I talked to an employee at a nursery where I sometimes shop. I said we had these hedges that lost their leaves, completely, and she also asked what they were. I don’t know, and it’s possible that they were/are some kind of hedge that was popular, ‘way back in the late 50’s, but aren’t “trendy,” or even available these days. The nursery woman said I could bring in some leaves, and maybe they could identify it. At the time, there weren’t any leaves. And I’m reluctant to pull off any of the new, baby little leaves right now. The nursery woman did suggest feeding the plants, and I bought some hedge fertilizer, spread it around the trunks, and watered it in. Maybe that contributed to the amazing, astounding, appreciated new growth.

A few years ago, folks at Kevin and April’s church did some cleaning out. There were several of these metal planters that hung in the church, and held, well, I don’t really know. But they weren’t going to be used any more, and April brought one to me, to see if I wanted it. I did.

I lined the bottom with one of those brown, grassy sort of things, and filled it with dirt. I found that “Herbs” sign somewhere, and planted herbs. Over the years, I had different results. Some years did better than others. I often lost plants when I neglected to water well. But, over the years, I was always able to keep the citronella plant healthy (or at least, alive). Year after year after year. Until February. So, I started over. I emptied out the dirt, shook out the liner, repainted both the planter and the sign, and put in nice, new potting soil. I went off  to a nursery, the first nice day we had. I found some herbs, and, much to my delight, a citronella plant. It’s the large one that has those two stems, and the lovely lilac flower. As I shopped, I walked past a couple who also had a citronella plant. We smiled and nodded at each other, and the man pointed at my face (which, of course, had a mask on it), and said, “University of Hawaii?” “Yes,” I said. On rare occasions, I come across people who recognize the logo.

He’d been in the Air Force, and had been stationed in Hawaii, so we three had a nice conversation about their travels and their time there. They said that, at their home, here in Central Texas, they had a great, enclosed garden room. They had a heater there, to keep the temperature constant for their tropical plants. The kind of plants they’d enjoyed having in Hawaii. “We lost all those plants,” they said. They were without power during the big ice/snow storm. No power, no heat. No more tropical plants.

I don’t know what they’re gong to call what happened this week, but “It snowed,” isn’t going to be enough.

We woke up Monday morning to a significant amount of snow on the ground. An unusual amount of snow. And no power inside the house. I bundled up in a lightweight black knit shirt, a heavyweight black dress, a black sweater and another, heavier black sweater, and black leggings. And my shoes. And my pashmina wrapped around my head and covering my nose.

I was determined to finish Hamilton. It was due that day, and I didn’t have any more renewals. When the sun hit the front of the house, I opened the blinds, and I was quite cozy, sitting on my bed, reading away. The sun set, and we still didn’t have any power. But I did finish Hamilton!

We’re fortunate that, when my parents built this house, they chose gas as an energy source. The stove’s burners have an electronic ignition, which of course didn’t work. But we were able to turn on the burners and light the gas to make a flame. We could heat water for tea. I could scramble an egg in a skillet. David could heat up soup. The oven, while also gas powered, could not be lit. So, no baking. But most importantly, the hot water heater was working. We could wash out hands, wash a few dishes and silverware. It was more than I thought we could have expected. And the heating system didn’t work, so we were pretty chilly.

We have a lamp in the bedroom, and I suggested to David that he turn on the lamp, so we would know when the power came back on. Even if it had come on in the middle of the night, I’d have been glad to know that the power was back. It didn’t.

David pulled more blankets and quilts out of the cedar chest and spread them on the bed. I slept pretty well, except for a couple of trips to the bathroom. I was as quick as I could be, but it was pretty miserable, and took a while to warm back up.

Tuesday was exactly the same. I had finished Hamilton and read another Hamilton book (a lovely, lavishly illustrated book that has heavy pages, illustrations on every page, and four, three-page foldouts, with maps and drawings). We did leave the house in the afternoon, to go return the books. There’s a book drop at the back of the library. It’s automatic. You press a green button and a door opens. You can put the book in, and a conveyor belt pulls your book into the library, automatically scanning the book. When the power is on. Which it wasn’t.

We drove around to the front of the library where there’s a regular slot with a door, and you can just shove the books in. We did that, then we noticed that the Target parking lot had lots of cars, and the lights were on. And we said,”Target has power?” Apparently, they did, and we went to Target. We spent an hour or so doing a little shopping, but mostly walking around and being warm.

We went home, and I bundled up in bed under layers and layers of blankets. The lamp never came on.

Wednesday morning, I wanted a nice, hot bath. Taking a shower in the smaller bathroom seemed daunting. We did have hot water and that would be great. Until I had to step out of the shower into the bathroom itself, where the temperature was maybe 20 degrees. I thought a bath would be a better choice.The hot, hot water would help raise the temperature in the room. So when I got out of the tub, the room wold be nice and warm.

I enjoyed the tub for quite a while, often replenishing the cooling water with additional hot, hot water. But when I did get out, the room was still just as frigid as when I’d gotten in. Brrrrr. I put on nice, fresh, clean, warm clothes, and we drove carefully, over to David’s office, to check on things there. It was fine there. It has heat, lights, and power.

All our pillows and blankets to take for our over night stays.

I charged up my phone. I called my sister. I called Jeremy, who said, “Don’t stay in the house with no power at all! Spend the night in Dad’s office!” And that sounded like a plan.

We went back home, checked the lamp to see if the power had come back on, and gathered up pillows and blankets and quilts, and the blow up mattress that Peter sleeps on when he comes. We did make another trip home, later, just to be sure that the power hadn’t suddenly come on. It hadn’t. David slept on a sofa in the library, in his sleeping bag. I slept on the blow up mattress, which deflated as the night wore on. Still, I had the best night’s sleep I’d had in a few days.

Thursday, we both woke up feeling better than we had in days.

David got lots of work done. I read some of Aaron Burr’s letters in a two volume set that David had purchased for the library a few years earlier. I found a letter that said: “Hamilton is desperately searching for someone to run against A.B.” (i.e. Aaron Burr)

Mid-day, David left to check on the house. I stayed and read. When he returned, a couple of hours later, he said, “Let’s go home.” The heater was running! The house was warm! The power was back!

“Was the lamp on?” I asked. It was.

We had packed up the pillows and blankets, just in case. We put them in the car and hurried back home. The roads were much less slippery and much less covered with ice and snow. It looked like spring. Well, sort of.

Matthew 25:40 (The Message Translation)

The king will answer, “Whenever you did it for any of my people, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you did it for me.”

I have some important work to do in the next day or two. We easily withstood the difficulties of the past few days. I know there are scores of folks who did not. I don’t know those men, women, and families. But I know people who do know them. And I will ask for suggestions about how I can make their lives a little easier in the next few days.

I have a cousin who, for several years, worked as an interior designer. Her husband was a builder, and she helped make his houses look lovely and up-to-date. We always enjoyed visiting her and seeing what kinds of interesting and beautiful things graced her home. She knew all kinds of trends. Once when we visited, she showed us a long, narrow box which was actually a drawer from an old sewing machine. People were using them for storing small items or displaying a variety of things, such as a few small picture frames with photos or other pictures in a drawer that was lying horizontally on a desk or cabinet. A drawer displayed vertically might have an arrangement of leaves or flowers in a little vase.

I ended up with one that I use, even now, to hold spools of thread and a pincushion, in easy reach of my sewing machine.

Around the same time, my mother was interested in refinishing pieces of furniture, and she was poking around in a little “antique” store in Hillsboro, the town where she grew up. She saw an old, treadle sewing machine. All of its pieces were intact, including four, nice and sturdy drawers. Mother asked the owner if she could buy a couple of those drawers. He said, “Fine,” and she left the place all satisfied with her purchase. And, since sewing machine drawers were such a hot, valuable item, she went back the next day and bought the other two drawers. Then, a few days later, she asked me if I’d like to have the entire sewing machine cabinet, itself. My sewing machine was just sitting on a kneehole desk that I’d used as a young teenager. I thought it might be a nice addition to our home, and I said, “Yes.” She went to work refinishing the whole thing, taking it all apart, and then putting it all back together.

That old sewing machine sat in a hole on the top of the table part. The treadle itself was still on the machine, as well as the belt that moved the needle on the machine. Seamstresses would pump the treadle up and down with their feet. You can see the treadle, here, at the bottom of the cabinet. And you can see the wooden piece that was attached to the wheel (on the right side) to make it turn.  There had been a belt (rubber, I think) that went from the large wheel under the machine to a smaller wheel on the side of the machine itself, that would then turn to make the needle move up and down to create a seam.

My mother’s very modern sewing machine had a hinged part that would allow her machine to be lowered down into the cabinet. Then there was a lid that would cover the machine, so that it just looked like a small table. My mother used her machine often, so it rarely got to the table part.

My new/old machine had this lovely box to protect the machine when it wasn’t being used. The original sewing machine sat nicely under this box. I think the first machine I used on this sewing cabinet also fit well. The next machine was a little, tiny, bit taller, and, when I cleaned up after sewing, I sat the box on that machine and it swayed a little bit, not reaching all the way to the surface of the cabinet.

Recently, I had to get a new sewing machine. A part on the machine that holds the bobbin (lower part) of the thread, came apart. I went online to order a new one and found that my machine was so old, they didn’t make that exact part any more. But, they suggested another part that should work. I ordered that part, and it finally came, and, Ta-Dah!! It didn’t work at all.

Now, the truth is, I don’t sew very much any more. But, I do sew some. So, I went to the giant fabric/notions/patterns/trim/pillow forms/yarn/thread/sewing machines store and bought a new machine. Not the cheapest one, and certainly not one of the extra fancy, extra ordinary, extra large, extra expensive ones. It’s a plain machine, and it does what I need doing.

The hole that the old, original machine rested in is, of course, not at all usable. I’ve put down a white rectangular piece that was originally a metal, sort of, cutting board. It does a fine job of covering the hole and supporting the machine.

You can see, on the floor, next to the old treadle, a small, black, rectangular thing that has a cord attached to it. That’s the foot control. It’s what I press, with my foot, which delivers the electricity to the machine and causes the needle to go up and down. Pressing slow means sewing slowly, like sewing in a sleeve. Pressing harder means faster sewing, when sewing a long, straight seam.

This machine is a little bit taller than my previous machines, and the piece that holds a bobbin when I’m winding thread on it, is not removable, causing the box to wobble, quite a bit, when I place it back on the machine. So, I glued small wooden spools onto the bottom of the box, which keeps it sturdy and secure.

I do like my new machine. I’ve made a pillow cover and done some repairs to clothes, and am in the process of making a new Christmas tree skirt.

Maybe I should consider broadening my sewing skills. And, while I’ve certainly not done the kind of sewing that Dorcas did, there are a few dolls in the Preschool classroom at church that have extensive, handmade wardrobes.

And, because it’s that time of year, Peter has recently had a birthday and is now eight years old.