Posts Categorized: Peace

I’d Like Walter Cronkite Back, Please

| Peace

Walter Cronkite was known as “the most trusted man in America.” He was anchorman for the CBS Evening News for 19 years (1962–1981). I’d like him back.

At the time, there were three major networks, and much of what was aired was entertainment oriented, at least as I remember it. There were news programs, local and national. But there didn’t seem to be as much programing with the intention of getting folks riled up. And there weren’t hundreds of networks and programs. And ads. And ads that looked like programs.

I’m sure that there were biases and slants. But I don’t recall programming where people reporting the news (or were purporting to communicate the news) were using their loudest voices and angriest faces while they were interviewing people. (Maybe that part got edited out.)

I’m already weary of the nastiness and hatefulness and lack of civility.

I want to be informed. But I don’t want yelling. I don’t want sneering. I don’t want lying. I don’t want lack of respect. I don’t want disdain.

I want to get information in a calm, sensible, comprehensible way. I’m ready to listen to all sides. As long as no one is unkind. (See above.)

Meanwhile, I certainly plan to vote. And the thing I’m most interested in voting for this fall is a local bond issue for our zoo. Some new buildings. Some improvements to others. A new exhibit for endangered African penguins (warm weather birds, not the Arctic kind).

This is the promotional logo for the zoo bond issue. There are yard signs around town. This is from a recycle bag that they were giving out a couple of weeks ago. I got two. This past week, I got two more.

My final “Behind the Scene at the Zoo” session was Wednesday. We saw the reptiles and amphibians.

 

 

 

I have one more Life Long Learning class, coming up next month. “A Literary Introduction to Social Justice.” Sounds interesting. Thought-provoking. Current.

 

 

 If it is within your power, make peace with all people.

Romans 12:18 (The Voice Translation)

 

 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me bring love.
Where there is offense, let me bring pardon. Where there is discord, let me bring union.
Where there is error, let me bring truth. Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.
Where there is despair, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.
Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.
O Master, let me not seek as much to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love,
for it is in giving that one receives, it is in self-forgetting that one finds,
it is in pardoning that one is pardoned, it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.
(Attributed to St. Francis, but most likely not actually written by him)

 

In With the New

| Goodness, Love, Peace

Our first computer was little more than a toy. It used (you may need to sit down to process this) cassette tapes to copy and store data. Once, I lost an entire Vacation Bible School session: activities, group time plans, snack ideas, recreation suggestions, and information for preschool teachers, for a session that would be three hours in length. I still, of course, had my notes and plans, but I had to immediately sit down and re-enter it, while it was all fresh in my mind. Ordinarily, one would save material, and then print it out, just in case there was some glitch in the printing process. Not this time. After I’d completely re-entered all the material, I printed it out. Then I saved it. And that time, the saving process went smoothly. I don’t remember how long we had that computer, but when the family of a friend of Kevin’s was getting a new computer, and he was talking to Kevin about the computer they weren’t going to keep, Kevin suggested that we buy it from them, and we quickly did. And, while it was nothing like the computer we have now, it was a mighty improvement over what we had. It was an Apple II. It used floppy disks to store data.

Some time after that, we had a brown-out at our house. (That’s what the electric company guys called it.) A branch fell from our big pecan tree onto the electric power line, in the middle of the night. Jeremy, who was ill and not sleeping well, noticed that the numbers on his clock were dim. He came in and woke us up. When we turned on the lights, they also were dim. David called the electric company, and repair people came right out, in the middle of the night. There’d been a surge before the brown-out, and we discovered that a few things had been damaged by that surge. The air conditioner!! (Of course, this thing happened in the heat of the summer.) The VCR.  Jeremy would be unable to watch movies we’d gotten for him to watch while he was under the weather. And, yes, the computer. Actually it was some box (which had important wiring) that was part of the electrical wire that plugged into the socket.

We called the air conditioning repair guy as soon as we could. Even though it was August, it was a rainy few days and we didn’t swelter too very much before they were able to come and fix it. Then, I went and purchased a new VCR. I called the computer people. I don’t remember how much the new electrical cord with the important box on it cost, but it was a lot and, really, the computer was old. In computer time.

I made the suggestion, over dinner that night, that instead of replacing the damaged cord, we put that money toward to new computer. BUT. That new computer would be an early, family Christmas gift. And, given the cost, that would be what we would be getting for Christmas. No other gifts. It seemed like a good idea. Maybe not a great idea, but a good idea. I reminded them that they would be getting gifts from grandparents and other family members. And, we would have, right now, a brand new, fabulous computer.

We got a Mac. Next, we got an iMac, that blue, roundish kind. Then we got a red iMac, because the first on got stolen. Yeah. Really. And then David got a computer, too. And then we upgraded.

And now, I’m as bad as anyone when I complain that my present computer seemed so slow! It WAS so slow.

A few months ago, I was complaining to Kevin about it, and his immediate reaction was, of course, that I should get a new computer!

This is the new computer. The picture is a dune from the Mojave desert. It changes during the day, and at night, the sky will be dark, as will the dune.

And it is way too easy to get a new computer. Kevin made the choice for me, I gave him my credit card number, he ordered the thing, and Bob’s Your Uncle.

Kevin was planning a trip to Waco soon, and he got it all set up for me while he was here.

 

 

Meanwhile, I also had, on a shelf above the computer, a television set. It was a verrrrry old television, and I didn’t watch it a lot, but, I did watch it some. And it just seemed like a nice, new, up-to-date television might be nice and work well and look nice. So I got a television, too.

The television we have in the main room is a nice, newish, television, and there’s a TIVO box that brings a lot of television programming into the house. We don’t really watch that much of it. The box that was in the room with my archaic television is a smaller version and only provides something like 90 channels.

When Kevin came, we got the computer out of the box, and he got it all set up. He moved all my mail/work/photos/etc. from the old computer to the new computer. And it is very nice.

The new television with the remotes

The television proved more challenging. There were lots of cables and wires, and after several tries, he finally got the right cable in the right place and used the television’s remote to get all the channels up and running. But they didn’t quite run. Kevin said to call the cable company and tell them that and find out what to do. And, after a few weeks, I finally did, earlier this week. First, I had to call the cable people. I had to wait a long time for a human being, but a guy finally came on. I explained that I had this new television and it came on all right, but I couldn’t get the channels to come up. He said was I using the cable company’s remote. I said I was using the television’s remote. I didn’t have a cable company remote. He was confounded. How did I use the TIVO box if I didn’t have the cable company’s box? I said that I didn’t have the TIVO cable box on my television. The main television, in another room, had the TIVO box. My box was small and it didn’t have its own remote. We don’t use those small boxes any more. You need a TIVO box. Okay. But someone will need to come and bring it, right.

So he said, “Tomorrow. Times are ‘between 8 and noon,’ and ‘between 1 and 5,’ and ‘between 5 and 9.’ ” I went with “between 8 and noon.”

A very nice young man showed up at 8:00 a.m. and went to work. Turns out, I do not need a big TIVO box. I just need the small box, which is what I said. However, my small box wasn’t working well, so I got a new small box. And he had to do some work with wires outside, where he found a wasp’s nest. He said did I have some dishwashing liquid, which I did. I put it in a cup with some water and he went out to take care of those pesky wasps who had made a nest right by the wiring he needed to work on. And, turns out that the little box does have its own remote, which must be a new thing, because for years, I didn’t have one to use and watched all the channels by using the television’s own remote, but none of that matters now, does it.

The cable guy was gone by 9:30, and I sat down to enjoy my new equipment. I checked the television schedule (conveniently on my computer) and ended up watching 9/11 programming for most of the day.

I think that the rhythmic phrase “Remember, remember” was first used in a poem dated as 1870. The event, poetically described, refers to a rebellion in Britain led by Guy Fawkes on November 5, 1605. The poem’s title is “The Fifth of November” and the first lines are:

Remember, remember!
The fifth of November,
The Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!

There’s also a song, “8th of November,” that refers to a military event from the Vietnam War.

We’re encouraged to remember! Remember the Maine!    Remember the Alamo!

And it is easy to recall and say “Remember. Remember, eleven September.”

My children do remember. Kevin will be able to explain it to Peter, who can say to his kids, “Yeah. I remember my dad telling me about that.” And we can hope that in Peter’s generation, the rallying cry “Remember!” could refer to a different kind of event. One that doesn’t make you cry.

 

I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord;  I will remember your wonders of old.

Psalm 77:11 (New Revised Standard Version)

 

 

Remember! Remember! The great deeds! The wonders! Remember!

 

 

 

 

What is an Apostille?

| Patience, Peace

Good question

An Apostille (pronounced “ah-po-steel”) is a French word meaning certification.

An Apostille is simply the name for a specialized certificate, issued by the Secretary of State. The Apostille is attached to your original document to verify it is legitimate and authentic so it will be accepted in one of the other countries who are members of the Hague Apostille Convention.

In the United States, all 50 states and the Federal Government (US Department of State – Office of Authentication) can issue an Apostille.

Variants: also apostil \ ə-​ˈpäs-​təl, a-​pə-​ˈstēl \
Legal Definition of apostille:
1 archaic : a marginal note
2 : a document used in international law that is issued by a government in accordance with the Hague Convention and that certifies that another document has been signed by a notary public

History and Etymology for apostille:

Middle French, from apostiller to add notes, ultimately from Medieval Latin postilla note, probably from post illa (verba textus) after those (words of the text)

It’s always fun and interesting to learn something new. Right?

My sister needed to get apostilles for my niece’s birth certificate and college diploma. She’ll be teaching this year in Nicaragua. (I was thinking that we had to get documents apostilled. But, no, it’s not a verb.) From the information above, you can see that those things are issued by the Secretary of State, and that all 50 states can issue an apostille. The Secretary of State in Texas is, of course, in the state capital, Austin.

We went to Austin, which is only 100 miles away, and not a difficult trip. Interstate all the way.

First, we needed to get a copy of the the birth certificate, which was not exactly hard to get. Just time consuming. Some of the time consumed was trying to follow Siri’s instructions, and she was reasonably patient as I maneuvered around construction, many official buildings, and several parking lots, which did not have entrances and exits that meshed with Siri’s plan. She did keep saying, “There are construction areas, but you are going the fastest way.”

We eventually got to the building where the birth certificates are, went in, and took a number. Number 42. We looked at the illuminated number on the wall.

Two. Yes, number 2. Two. II. Forty numbers away from our number. Frankly, it went better than it might have. Nobody complained (at least not out loud). Folks waited their turns. Kids didn’t act up. Babies weren’t too fussy. But it did take two whole hours. At last, they called number 42, and JoAnne took her papers to a clerk.

When JoAnne was done, I got up and walked the few steps to the end of row where we’d been sitting. The man on the end of the row turned his whole body sideways so I could easily get past.

“Thank you,” I said. “The man who was sitting here when we arrived had his computer in his lap, and he stretched his legs all the way out, under the chair in front of him. No one could get by. We had to walk around him from the back, and scoot chairs out of the way. Thank you for being kind.” He grinned when I wished him a short stay.

Then we had to make our way to downtown Austin to the Secretary of State’s office. We drove around for a few minutes, trying to find a place to park. The parking garages were for tenants and employees of the buildings. There was on-the-street parking, but we drove around a few blocks without success. JoAnne said to let her out and try to find a place. As we pulled up to the door, TA-DAH, there was an empty spot.

We parked and got out and I put three quarters into the meter. Who knew how long it might take to get the apostilles for the documents.

Twelve minutes.

I hope someone, or a couple of someones, enjoyed having a pre-paid parking meter.

We got back in the car, and, before we pulled away, JoAnne put a request for the nearest In-And-Out Burger. Great trip.

 

 

I Was Chuffed

| Patience, Peace

“Chuffed” is a fairly new word in my vocabulary. I heard it, several times, when Peter and I were watching an episode of “The Great British Baking Show.” Baking contestants said it when they got good comments on what they had made, so I imagined that it must be something really great. Their faces looked pretty happy.

I looked it up on Dictionary.com, where it said “delighted, pleased, satisfied.”

I was chuffed last Saturday, while I was out getting some picture books. I went to all four Waco libraries (fortunately, Waco’s not all that big, and it’s not a difficult thing to get to all of them).

I was looking for preschool books about art. At the library closest to me, I went through the computer’s list of books and wrote down the call numbers and library locations. Of course, I could have gotten the books from the library where I was, and requested the other books from other libraries, and they would have been sent over, and I could have gotten them in a couple of days. But, not every book was going to be something that I could use, and then I’d have to bring back the ones I didn’t want, and it just seemed simpler to go to the libraries, look at the books, and then only check out the ones I wanted.

I was chuffed at the downtown library because there was a plethora of babies being strolled in and out of the library, and strolled around the tables and shelves in the library. I’m sure that animated programs displayed on a computer screen do enthrall babies. But they are not the same as a baby sitting in a lap and having an adult turn the pages and read the words and talk about the pictures in a book. I found the books I was looking for, decided which ones to take, along with an interesting book for myself (completely un-art-related), checked them out and carried them to the car.

Next I went to the East Waco library. A family was walking up to the library at the same time as I was. Mom had a tiny baby strapped to herself. “I’ve been to a couple of libraries today,” I said. “I think you win the prize for youngest library patron.” Mom smiled, which I took as an invitation to keep talking (but not touching). “How old?” I asked.

“She’s one week old.”

“Sounds about right for a trip to the library,” I said, and I went in to get some more books.

At the next library, I walked in, looked around, and said to the librarian, “Where are the babies? Every other library I’ve been to today had babies.”

“If you’d been here five minutes ago,” she said. “There was a baby.” Too late.

But the best baby-and-me interaction happened at the first library. I had walked down the aisle where there are audio books. I’m driving up to Ft. Worth in a few days and want something to listen to. As I walked out from that aisle, I saw a mom with a round, happy baby strapped to her chest. I made eye contact and we smiled at each other. “Yes,” I said. “Everybody should have a baby with them at the library.” Mom agreed.

And I went on along to the bank of computers, signed in, and began to look for art books for kids. Then I wrote down all those books and the libraries, and went off to look for the ones that were at this particular library. I found them, looked through them, and decided which ones I would take with me. When I walked from between the stacks on my way to the self-check-out counter, whom should I encounter but my friends, the mom with the baby. We looked our surprise at each other, and I leaned down to look the baby in the face and said, “Are you still here?”

And then I think I asked some baby-related question, like how old was he, or did they have a busy week ahead of them.

“Well,” she said, “we have to go to the doctor.”

“Oh,” I said. “Is he all right.?”

“We have to go to the hospital. For a brain scan. To be sure he’s okay.”

And she told me he’d been really premature, and they were having to keep a close eye on him.

“One of his kidneys is smaller than the other,” she said.

“Are both kidneys working,” I asked.

“For now,” she said.

Ordinarily, because I don’t want to be the scary-lady-at-the-library (or grocery store, or Target), I try to keep a couple of feet between me and any kid I’m talking to. And I certainly don’t touch a kid. But, mom was right there … and I touched his head. And he smiled his happy smile. And we said good-bye, and maybe we’d see each other another day at the library.

I’ve read a lot of library books. Not all of them have happy endings. Then again, quite of few of them do.

 

If you are tired from carrying heavy burdens, come to me and I will give you rest.  Take the yoke I give you. Put it on your shoulders and learn from me. I am gentle and humble, and you will find rest.

Mathew 11:28-29 (Contemporary English Version)

 

A second definition of “chuffed” means “great displeasure.” I guess people have to look at your face to see what sort of “chuffed” you are.

The Fauna

| Love, Patience, Peace

The plants in the yard are looking quite nice and healthy. We’ll see how things go, now the the rain’s slacked off and temperatures will be rising. I’m being more diligent with the bug spray, but the more recent animal interactions have been a little startling.

Really. When you just glance at it, don’t you think it really LOOKS LIKE A COW!

 

 

 

I was taking a little bit different route home last week, and was seriously startled when I drove by this house, which is not one I usually pass. I just noticed the animal from the corner of my eye, and was breathlessly startled. Seriously. At first glance, I really and truly thought it was a calf. I’m not sure calves are allowed in the city limits. Of course, upon sensibly looking at the animal, I realized it was a dog. A LARGE dog. That looked very much like a young cow. I did go around the corner and drive by a second time, to snap a picture.

 

 

 

 

 

I didn’t take this photo, but it looks exactly like what I saw a few days ago, as I walked across the yard. I was seriously startled because the squirrel was standing up, watching me approach, not moving, and a little bit confrontive, and not scampering away, as most squirrels do. I stopped and then took a few tentative steps ahead, and then he turned and ran off.  When the squirrels begin to stand their ground, I’m feeling pretty anxious.

 

 

 

The frightened kitten, huddled up by the porch.

And the most touching fauna encounter happened a couple of days ago. There’s a small flower bed at the front of the house that doesn’t get watered from the sprinkler system, so I always have to hand water that space. I’d planted some new plants, and, on Tuesday, I was watering there. I watered the new shrimp plants I’d put in and the Tuneria, an annual flower that I plant each year (both of those are heat tolerant). I watered the existing Yarrow plants and then moved the hose to a lantana plant that’s been in place for several years. To my great astonishment, something alive leapt from the center of that plant and scampered around the edge of the porch. I inched over to look and saw a huddled-up little furry animal that seemed to be a kitten. I moved back away and watered some more. I looked around the corner again, and the kitten looked at me and began to mewl. And mewl and mewl and mewl. I was very reluctant to interact because I didn’t know from where and from whom the kitten had originated. I didn’t want to make friends, just to need to take it to a shelter. And, if there was an owner nearby, I thought the kitten might be rescued by somebody who’d lost it. By time David came home from work, the kitten was gone.

Whew, I was relieved, but David said it was on the sidewalk by the porch the next morning. As of now, Thursday evening, we’ve not seen it again. I hope it has made its was to a safe place.

 

I should have saved the worm photos until today, I guess, to complete the invertebrate/vertebrate arc.

 

All creatures on earth, you obey his commands, so come praise the Lord!  Sea monsters and the deep sea, fire and hail, snow and frost, and every stormy wind, come praise the Lord!

All mountains and hills, fruit trees and cedars, every wild and tame animal, all reptiles and birds, come praise the Lord!

Psalm 148:7-10 (Contemporary English Version)

 

I don’t hear much from the worms and ladybugs, or the butterflies and the moths, but the birds in my backyard are certainly doing their part!

Moving from This-Is-Pretty-I-Think-I-Can-Grow-This to Can-I-Keep-This-Alive-for-the-Next-Three-Months

| Joy, Love, Patience, Peace

I’m working a lot these days, trying to get things done outside, before the really bad, hot, vicious, summer weather drops in. The temps have, and will be, in the eighties, the next few days, inching up and up, until maybe Tuesday, when the forecast is for 90°. I’ve moved some plants, repotted some plants, pruned some plants, dug up lots of weeds, picked up quite a few limbs and twigs, and reworked a little paved pathway that leads to the compost bins. I’ve had to start hand watering the patio plants; alas, all that nice rain we were having constantly, has abated.

I was working, in the late, late afternoon, last week. I had dug up some liriope, to transplant around a tree. The wind had picked up, and I was working as quickly as I could, to get done before the sun went down. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement, and I thought I saw a bicycle tire, rolling right towards me! I did need a few seconds to realize that it was not at all a bicycle.

 

It was very late afternoon, almost dark, and David wasn’t at home. And, apparently, I was a little on edge. While I work in the yard, and in the house, too, I listen to podcasts on my phone. They entertain and inform me, and make mundane work go faster. I find true-crime casts interesting. Possibly, if I’m anxious about yardwaste bins rolling by me, unexpectedly, I might possibly look for other kinds of podcasts.

 

Meanwhile, every time I go outside, there are branches and twigs in the yard. And I don’t mean just everyday, I mean when I go out in the morning (at which time I pick them up and put them in the yardwaste bin), but also in the early afternoon, and the late afternoon, and the early evening, and between the time that I go in the house to get and drink of water and come back. We’ve had a LOT of serious wind, and I don’t understand why they don’t just ALL drop on down at the same time. They’re all dead!

I’ve looked up into the pecan tree, and there seem to be several leafless limbs and twigs up there. Why don’t they just fall down? Maybe they’re next year’s leaf-drop crop.

 

 

You will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you.

Isaiah 26:3 (Christian Standard Bible)

 

I’ve gone to the “search” spot on my phone to find more podcasts to enjoy. I’ve found several from Rachel Held Evans which I know I’ll enjoy. And, they’ll be ‘way more enriching than “Crime Junkie,” and “Murder Minute.”

What’s In *Your* Medicine Cabinet?

| Patience, Peace

Things are pretty muddy, out there in the yard.

I’ve been working in the yard quite a bit, trying to get things in shape before the blazing summer temperatures make it be uncomfortable to spend too much time outdoors. And I’ve had to work around the rain, which has been unusually heavy and constant.

I got a big, red, itchy bite in the crook of my elbow a week or so ago. It didn’t look like what a mosquito bite usually looks like on me. Some other sort of biting bug, I suppose. Then, a few days later, I got another, bigger, itchier bite behind my knee. Really bigger and insanely more itchy. Then I went to Target and bought a new can of insect repellent.

Prescriptions and over the counter medicines fill my medicine cabinet.

And, I looked for something in my arsenal of medications that would allay the itch.

I had some prescription creams (two of each) for previous bites of unknown insects. But they were antibiotic things and not itch-related. Nor itch-helpful.

I checked through the medicine cabinet, looking for drug store-type help.

Those three white lids, all in a row? All Cortizone-10, which worked. As an afterthought, I checked the expiration dates on them. June 2014, June, 2018, and April 2019.

I thought maybe I should look at everything else in there.

That small bottle of Tylenol, lying sideways on that little metal shelf? August, 2017.

The box of Mucinex? October, 2019. A few months left for me to catch a cold, or something similar.

The two boxes of Imodium? March and May 2019. And I’d just as soon NOT need it.

Ayr saline nasal mist? April, 2018.

Kleenex hand sanitizer? June 2014.

Artificial tears? December, 2019. There’ll be help if my eyes are dry between now and New Year’s Eve.

BUMP Family Friendly Nasal spray? The container says, “BB 8/17.”  I’m guessing that means “best by.” So, early 2019? Not so much.

The large Tylenol bottle? May, 2022!

Over-the-counter Iron pills? August 2020.

Nasal spray? March 2020.

Pepto Bismol tablets? I just don’t know. The only information actually on the box is “SE 20(L) 82774354K2” and “SE 20(L) 83024354KO.” I have no idea what that might mean.

And the most astonishing? ALCOHOL! Alcohol goes bad? Or, I guess, expires? REALLY. My alcohol’s expiration date? November 2013. Yes, my alcohol expired five-and-a-half years ago. And it was a great big bottle, too.

The website Needy Meds/be medwise gives information about disposing of outdated medications. I don’t have kitty litter or coffee grounds, but I do have dirt. And plastic zip-top bags. I want to be a good decision-maker and citizen.

 

Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Matthew 6:34 (The Message Translation)

 

Last week, while I was outside doing some yard work, I saw this at the front corner of the house. I was several feet away, and thought at first that it was some trash that had been blown around and gotten stuck on the brick. When I got closer, for a minute or so, I couldn’t figure out what it was. I stayed still and stared. It stayed still, too. It’s a lizard shedding it’s skin.

We have at least two anoles living here. I often see (one at a time, usually) one around the potting bench. Several weeks ago, Peter and I were outside, near this spot, when we saw two of them, peeking out of a vent at the bottom of the house. They were quiet and still. This lizard would have darted away from me, at any other time. But, while molting, they stay put until they’ve got their new skin.

He looks like he’s wrapped in tissue paper, with the gift of a new skin. The old skin, I suppose, has reached its expiration date.

 

‘Tis the Season

| Love, Peace

The  Little Free Library  organization began in 2009. The idea is that someone will create a small house-shaped box, that’s water-proof and has a door. Then it goes up on a pole and sits at the curb. The owner will probably be the first person to put some books in the library. Then, anyone who’d like to read a book can take it from the little house, and take it home to read. When they finish, they can return the book to the house, or not. But they might return the book and also add one or more books that they have enjoyed. Little children might take two or three books. When Peter was younger, we would go to a playground at a community center near his house. There was a little library there. Sometimes, we’d get books just to read while we were at the playground. Other times, we’d choose a book to take to his house to read. There’s also a little library house at Peter’s school, and we have taken books from there for Peter to read as we drive to Waco.

I’ve noticed one in a friend’s neighborhood, too. The first time I saw it, it was empty, and I wondered if there were enough people walking by in this area who were taking and bringing books.  I didn’t always make a point to look in, as I drove by, but it seemed to usually be empty. One day, I drove by the little house-on-a-pole, and saw that, while there were not books inside, there were two cans. Cans of baked beans, I think.

Maybe it’s a food bank, I thought.  I looked it up later, and, yes, indeed, the Little Free Library people also support the Little Free Pantry ministry. This project started in May of 2016. I don’t know the details, but it seems that people noticed that families around them might have days where they didn’t get enough to eat, and there could be a solution.

This neighborhood that I drive through isn’t a run down, seedy part of town. Most houses are well-kept and no one I’ve seen appears to be “poor” and “starving.” However, lots of families, everywhere, sometimes struggle to make ends meet. Sometimes families have to choose whether to buy groceries or whether to purchase gas to get to work.

Peter was here last week, and we drove by the little purple house, which was empty. I pointed it out to him and he said, yes, he’d seen little libraries. “This is a little food pantry,” I said. “Sometimes there’s food in here. Sometimes it’s empty. I was thinking …” And he thought so, too. We went to the grocery store and bought food.

This is how the little purple house looked, a few days after we added our groceries to those that were already inside. I’m sorry I neglected to take a picture when it was all full.

Peter chose some things that were kid-friendly, like those containers with macaroni shapes and powdered cheese sauce, that you just add hot water to, and then microwave and stir. We turned down the rice aisle and Peter said, “Yes! White rice and Jasmine rice!” And we got crackers.

Later, we had a young teen-aged friend with us when we drove through the neighborhood. “We’ve gotten some food for the little pantry house. Do you want to help us?” She did.

When we drove up to the house, I said, “Look! Other people have brought food, too.” There were dried beans and some canned goods already inside. We got out of the car with our groceries. To my surprise, everything fit inside the house. Whew! (It holds more that you think it might. Or, at least more that I thought it might.)

 

Just a few days later, when I drove by, the house was empty. Of course, I don’t know if one person took it all, or if three or four folks stopped by the little food bank for something for themselves or their family.

I’m trying to remember to add, to my own grocery list, foods to take to the little purple house. ‘Tis the season.

 

“When the Son of Man appears in his majestic glory, with all his angels by his side, he will take his seat on his throne of splendor, and all the nations will be gathered together before him.And like a shepherd who separates the sheep from the goats, he will separate all the people.  The ‘sheep’ he will put on his right side and the ‘goats’ on his left. Then the King will turn to those on his right and say, ‘You have a special place in my Father’s heart. Come and experience the full inheritance of the kingdom realm that has been destined for you from before the foundation of the world!  For when you saw me hungry, you fed me. When you found me thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I had no place to stay, you invited me in,  and when I was poorly clothed, you covered me. When I was sick, you tenderly cared for me, and when I was in prison you visited me.’

“Then the godly will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty and give you food and something to drink? When did we see you with no place to stay and invite you in? When did we see you poorly clothed and cover you? When did we see you sick and tenderly care for you, or in prison and visit you?’

 “And the King will answer them, ‘Don’t you know? When you cared for one of the least important of these my little ones, my true brothers and sisters, you demonstrated love for me.’

Matthew 31-40 (The Passion Translation)

The Cambridge dictionary defines “endgame” as:  the last stage  of a process, especially one involving discussion. This is Jesus’ endgame. The next verses in Matthew describe what is going to happen over the next few days. It’s hard to believe that there will be a happy ending.

We know better. There is a happy ending. But we need to make sure we’re keeping that happy ending going, as much as we can, for the people around us, who might not know where to find that better endgame.

‘Tis the season … to be the people Jesus meant us to be.

 

I Prefer to Rely on My Mind’s Eye

| Joy, Peace

Interesting, isn’t it, how our eyes can see something, but out minds can translate the picture we thought we saw into something a little different from what we actually saw.

Last Saturday morning, I left the house pretty early, off to run errands before the rest of the folks got up and about. There was a really lovely sunrise.

I saw the beautiful sunrise. Only the beautiful sunrise. My brain, quite thoroughly, edited out the billboards, the traffic lights, all the traffic, the dashboard, and my inspection sticker. I was really surprised, and quite frustrated, by all the visual clutter in the photo. I wanted the sunrise.

I run into this problem when I’m in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

 

I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the mountains, and am always trying to capture that beauty. I often completely overlook the phone lines.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I guess I’ll have two choices, if I want to get out early enough next Saturday to see a pretty sunrise. Early enough to drive outside of town and see if I can find a billboard-free piece of scenic attractiveness that includes a sunrise and a cloud or two. Or, I can just drive around town and let my brain’s selective visuals do that work for me.

 

From sunrise brilliance to sunset beauty, lift up his praise from dawn to dusk!

Psalm 113:3 (The Passion Translation)

 

 

Brilliance. Beauty. Brilliance. Beauty.

His praise, from dawn to dusk!

(You can sing this to the tune “Sunrise, Sunset,” from Fiddler on the Roof. Try it, while you’re ignoring the signs and billboards. Well, you’ll need to obey the traffic signals, of course.)

Seriously? SE-RI-OUS-LY?!?!

| Peace

Colon Update (but, still without too much detail)

I had all my instructions for preparing for that colon business. I filled up the four-liter jug with water and shook it nicely to carefully distribute the included dry stuff. I put it in the fridge, because it’s supposed to be more palatable cold. Hmmmm. My prep instructions say to drink one cup every ten to fifteen minutes, starting at 5:00 p.m., until you’ve drunk half. And, guzzle it down instead of sipping. Also supposed to be more palatable. Then, at 1:00 a.m., repeat until it’s all been drunk.

Then, report at 8:00 a.m. Tuesday for the procedure.

I did all those things. Staff got me all ready, with IV and blood pressure cuff, and then anesthesia, and it seemed like it was just moments before I was waking up again. In actuality, it was just moments. Because, despite my complete prep obedience, my colon was not cleaned out at all. The doctor said to David, “I couldn’t see a thing.”

SO WE HAD TO START ALL OVER!!!

They rescheduled me for Wednesday afternoon, sent off a new prescription for more of that let’s-get-you-all-cleaned-out stuff to the pharmacy (but a different brand, and a little more liquid). I mixed it up, chilled it, and at 5:00 p.m. began the “drink a cup every ten to fifteen minutes until half is gone” business. At 7:45 a.m., I was supposed to begin gulping down the second half. I wasn’t taking any chances, and started at 6:00. We were supposed to arrive at 2:45 p.m., which we did. And then we sat for almost an hour.

The waiting room was almost full, and, over the course of the next minutes, various family’s names were called, and they went off to speak with the doctor, and then collected their kin. I was the last one called back, and there was a flurry and hurry, getting me all ready. When they woke me back up again, everything was fine, everything went well. Then there was a huge rush of getting me dressed and getting us out of there. I didn’t figure out until later that the doctor had probably added me in on top of an already full afternoon. I suppose he thought that, if I didn’t come right back in for the procedure, he might never see me again. And he might have been right.

As the nurses and tech people were getting me ready, before the procedure, the doctor walked by and reminded me that they like to do this every ten years. He recommended that, ten years from now, we use that same solution as we did that second go-round. I said, “I’m not doing this again.”

When the doctor had his after-procedure consultation with David, he mentioned the same thing. David said, “I don’t think she plans on doing this again.” “That’s what she told me,” the doctor said.

 

The post-procedure instructions said to take it easy the rest of the day (and don’t make any important decisions or sign any legal documents, because post-anesthesia, one might not be an adequate decision-maker). But, the next day, get back to normal activities. So, on Thursday, I went to Fort Worth to get Peter to spend a few days with us during his Spring Break. I felt fine, except that my arms were sore, as though I’d been carrying boxes around or doing yard work or painting a wall. I finally thought that it must be those big jugs of prep liquid. They were four liter containers, and, for a time on Monday and Tuesday, I was picking one up and pouring out a cup of liquid. Every ten minutes. Of course, the jug got lighter and lighter. But I think that must have been what caused the aches.

Also, in the stack of papers I got when we left, there was a page of photos of my colon. If you’re interested in seeing them, let me know.

 

 And I find that the strength of Christ’s explosive power infuses me to conquer every difficulty.

Philippians 4:13 (The Passion Translation)

 

When a friend of mine was preparing for her colonoscopy, she asked her doctor why he chose gastroenterology as his specialization. (Because, really, it doesn’t seem like one of the more glamorous-types of fields.) His response? “I save lives.” Hard to argue with that.