Lasts

The small, but wonderful, congregation I serve is undergoing dissolution and will be ending its ministry at the end of May next year. So, now we are doing "lasts". The last community Thanksgiving, the last Advent, the last Christmas Eve Candlelight Communion service, the last 'nog' ...

Of course, these experiences are filled with deep emotion. Something beautiful is coming to an end and the beginnings are just so nebulous and uncertain at the moment. For many of the members, the church is the only, or almost the only, congregation they've been a part of ... or they've been members for 15-20 years or more. Letting go isn't easy, and shouldn't be. If it were too easy, you'd wonder if they were ever committed to the ministry in the first place.

Things have been a bit surreal for me. True, I was a member here in the mid-70s, early 80s, so I do have a fairly solid connection to the congregation beyond the years I've served as pastor. However, I guess part of what makes this time seem a bit surreal is that I'm doing the things that I'd ordinarily be doing with a congregation at this time of year and will be doing once again with the next congregation I serve. There will be tweaks and differences, but there will still be sermons and communion and special music and Joy Gift offerings and holiday fellowship events.

After worship the other day, I overheard part of a conversation where someone was wondering how anyone could miss worship during this time of "lasts". The person commented on how special these worship services have been, along the lines of better than usual. Perhaps it's just that these are "lasts". To me, they've contained the usual bumbles and miscues and glorious moments that any other worship service has during Advent.

I still can't put together those Joy Gift offering boxes without something not working right. Probably never will. I still manage to forget to tell someone something they really need to know before helping in the worship service. I still manage some of the more creative bulletin typos along with the mundane everyday variety that I manage to include in the "regular" bulletin. The sermons still tell the "old, old story" using the lectionary texts that I've used for more than a decade.

See? Business as usual. And yet it isn't.

There is a quality to the life of the church which transcends business as usual. A touch of helter-skelter. This is new territory for almost all of us and we're groping our way through the process. But there's something about the "lasts" which adds an extra quality, a bittersweet enjoyment perhaps?, which is visible on/in those who have chosen to face the "lasts" and experience them. It's something which cannot be put into words and yet it's there.

What an honor to be invited to participate in this particular ending! It is a blessed experience for God is in the midst of it.

Avoidance

I guess that's as good a word as any for it.

It's real. It's official. And I've been avoiding writing about it. Three Sundays ago our congregation voted to dissolve as of May 31, 2009. It was a very difficult decision, and has been coming on for a looooooooong time. Yet it's hard to keep a congregation going when what comes in doesn't come close to what's going out.

The congregation is incredible! They were the ones who brought up the subject of bringing the ministry to a close. It wasn't easy for them to do that, but they want to be able to end with dignity and the ability to help the community with the resources they have available instead of spending it all on keeping the doors open.

Of course, people feel sad and a bit lost. For many, it's the only church they've ever belonged to. And they've a heart for each other as well as for ministering to the community.

As I'm typing this, I've been watching a tv report on the closure. Weird feelings to have it out there like that. There'll be an article in the local paper tomorrow, too. Doesn't help any that I HATE watching myself on tv. Part of me wants to crawl under the covers and hide.

It's one thing for those of us in the congregation to say that our ministry is coming to an end. It's another to have some stranger announce it to the world.

Well, tomorrow may be interesting. Our plan is to sell the building and use the proceeds to help maintain the children's center, plus help other community programs as we are able. Betcha I get a whole lot of calls from realtors and others!

Maybe I'll be able to say more about the process and how I'm feeling later. But I did manage to get past the first post!

Stupid Internet

OK, I guess it's a bit ironic. I'm using the internet to diss the internet.

So far, I've worked my way through three potential posts and hit the "Publish Post" button only to have the connection be broken and the post to flee off into cyberoblivion.

There seems to be a bizarre pattern to it, too. The connection has been breaking down between 10:30am and 1:00pm almost every day. I'm beginning to think it's me (that is, my modem) instead of the service provider. But I can't quite figure out why the darned thing only pops off at that time of day. The lengthe of time I'm offline varies from day to day, with me having to holler for help about once a week.

Could it be one of those insidious side effects from Ike?

Hmmmmmmmm........

Con-cen-tr ... Oh! Look a Bird!

I seem to have the attention span of a flea recently. That's why I've not posted anything in a while. By the time I get an idea of what I'd like to say, a new thought takes me in an entirely different direction. So I thought that if I acknowledged my flitter-headedness, it might help.

It's not like I have nothing on my mind or to help keep me distracted. Elections, financial crises, difficult decisions coming up at church, technology deciding to malfunction at the worst possible moment (isn't that when it's supposed to malfunction?), recovery from yet another hurricane, meetings, and ... I've not had a vacation yet this year.

Hurrication doesn't count. That's actually hard work, trying to keep up with where everyone is and what information needs to be transmitted to whom and keeping people connected. Not to mention worrying about how your own home is in the aftermath.

Well, I managed to get this far and the brains have given up on me! I may go take a nap or read a book (if I can concentrate on it) or just veg out in front of the tv. The boy has Mythbusters on and they're kind of fun. The current one is McGyver myths. I love McGyver! Guess I'll toddle off and watch.

The Continuing Need for New Perspective

This is a response I made on a blog (Gruntled Center) by Dr. William "Beau" Weston, who is advocating the elimination of Committees on Representation from the Presbyterian Church (USA) structure. I'm lousy at the technical aspects of linking, so it's not linked here. The first paragraph speaks to a response from a current member of the General Assembly Committee on Representation (GACOR), who speaks of coming at the work of representation and diversity through his position of white privilege.

I have recently rotated off the GACOR. I, too, come at this from a position of white privilege; although, I also have a position which puts me in a bit of a minority - clergywoman.

There is still much work to be done before Committees on Representation become “irrelevant”. I also am a member of New Covenant presbytery, and will admit that I dropped the ball on some of the representational work which needs to be done here. This is being rectified. For example, there are committees in our presbytery structure that are made up of moderators of other committees in the presbytery. As we’ve begun to work with the nominating committee, one of the things we’ve noticed is that these “over-committees” can all too easily become mainly white males. It can be difficult for even conscientious nominating committees to be completely aware of how certain choices affect other aspects of the leadership of the presbytery.

One of the unique features of Committees on Representation is that they are required to be composed such that the majority of its members are members of racial/ethnic minority groups. For those of us who have lived our entire lives from a position of privilege due to race (whether we have been aware of such privilege or not), this compositional flip-flop allows us to experience, at least somewhat, what it means to be in the minority. I believe this to be healthy for both the individuals involved and the PCUSA as a whole.

I wonder what the PCUSA would be like if, for one four-year term, the GA Nominating Committee were required to fill all positions so that every General Assembly-level committee had a majority of members who are members of racial/ethnic minorities, were under the age of 45, and had at least one-third of its members who had a condition which meets the criteria of the Americans with Disabilities Act. That would not preclude having members on each committee who could express the heritage and history of that committee‘s work, but might allow the work of the PCUSA to move forward in new, unexpected, and Spirit-driven ways.

Too Much Sky

The other day my son and I were in the car headed to one of the local restaurants. As we came to one "familiar" intersection, I looked up and out and thought back to when I first moved to town. At that particular intersection, when you looked toward the sky, all you could see were the tops of the trees.

After Rita, there was a bit more sky to be seen at that intersection, but still there were a fair number of trees in that view.

Now, the intersection looks as though some maniacal lumberjack of Paul Bunyan proportions stomped through town, slicing out the tops of trees with his well-honed axe. The end result is ...

WAY TOO MUCH SKY!!

And little pitiful stubby treetops in view.

Don't get me wrong. Generally, I like sky. But it was Oh! so pleasant to have those beautiful green, leafy limbs, the trees' crowing glory, to help block the sun's rays early in the morning and at dusk.

Now, when I look at where the treetops used to be, I feel sad and shriveled inside. It will be another generation before the skyline begins to look "normal" again, assuming another beastie doesn't come plowing through the streets and yards of town again in the meantime.

*sigh* I think I've been feeling the combined effects of Her Horribleness and His Horribleness this week. Sad, then angry, then fuzzy, then rinse and repeat. Sometimes it's just overwhelming. Sometimes it seems like the best thing to do is just crawl back into bed and pull the pillows over my head. But sometimes, you just have to plod along, and remember to take care of yourself.

I'm beginning to think I need to take a couple of days off and just get away from town.

Hmmmmmmmmm...you know, I'm beginning to think it's about time for a trip to Austin. I've some friends there I haven't seen in quite a while. Yes, hills would be nice about now.

Now all I've got to do is figure out when!

Morning Reflection

I've been enjoying the pleasant morning air today. The sliding glass door is open so the Penster can wander in and out as she pleases. It's cool enough to keep the skeeters from buzzing around and finding their way into the house. I'll close the door when the first insectoid flies in.

It's a beautiful blue, sun-shiny day. But there's a problem.

There's just too much sky. I look out my backdoor and the scene that used to be framed by the bright green shapes of large oaks and pines and whatever other kinds of trees grow around here, is now framed by what seem like skeletal remains. It's sad.

I drive down the streets and, especially early in the morning or toward dusk, the trees which used to help filter the rising or setting sun are gone, and the brightness hurts the eye. It's sad.

While the number of chainsaws doing their buzzing is nowhere near the number making their racket after Rita, the sound of their cutting puts my teeth on edge and causes me to cringe a little.

Still, it is a very pleasant morning. The fresh air is healing. The pain's still there, but I can remember that healing happens. It happened after Rita. It will happen after Ike. It's a process which takes time. But it happens. *sigh*

Radical Idea

While ruminating my way through the financial news of the morning paper, a random word popped into my head: Jubilee.

Suddenly, it struck me that large numbers of Americans consider this country a product of our Judeo-Christian heritage, so why not implement a Judeo-Christian concept in this time of crisis?

In Leviticus 25, God requires that every 50th years be a year of jubilee. It was to be a time of joy, when land was to be returned to its original owners (i.e. the land proportioned out to each family of the Israelites after the exodus), slaves and prisoners were to be freed (and in that time, most slaves or prisoners were in that position because of debt), when debts were to be forgiven, and the mercies of God would be particularly apparent.

Over the centuries, Jubilee hasn't particularly been a part of our religious practice, but what if we took this biblical concept and put it into practice in our current fiscal crisis? Just reset the financial clock to zero?

Of course, you'd have to modify it a bit so that people wouldn't be tossed out of their homes. But what if everyone had a clean slate to begin anew? I believe that was God's intent in establishing the jubilee year: Sins forgiven, debts forgiven, a return to the starting point of one's heritage.

Oh! It wouldn't be easy, and those who would lose funds from the repayment of debts would squawk. Their pockets wouldn't be as richly lined as they'd want them to be.

But let's consider something. Many of the people who are in over their heads have gotten there due to circumstances beyond their control (health issues and layoffs come to mind) or have been preyed upon by predatory lenders who change the rules of the game whenever it looks like someone might actually pay their way out from under their thumbs. Those financial institutions will likely end up without a dime, or at most a few shekels, from those who owe them money due to bankruptcies or plain and simple default. Why not just set the debt account back to zero and give everyone a restart?

Then there wouldn't be a need for multi-billion dollar bailouts. Those who have been financially oppressed might begin to see hope for the future and engage in possibilities that improve their lives and the lives of others. I think God was aware of how seriously draining ongoing financial difficulties are. I believe that's why God commanded and hoped that humanity would take the opportunity every 50 years to exhibit the incredible mercy which is in God's nature.

Sure, Jubilee didn't seem to make it beyond the words passed down through scripture over the centuries.

That makes it easier for us to start now. Who knows? According to God's time, this may actually be a year of jubilee.

Why not claim our Judeo-Christian heritage and give Jubilee a try?

When Pigs Fly

Got up this morning and wandered out to the driveway to get the newspaper as I usually do. Slipped it out of its plastic sheath to see these words over one of the above-the-fold stories:

Disaster bill on fast track in Congress

I won't use the language that ran through my head as I read this headline. It's not particularly pastor-like.

We're THREE YEARS out from Hurricane Rita and there are still too mucho major dollars hanging around that haven't gotten to the people who needed it THEN, and even that took waaaaaaaaaaaay too long to make it through the sludge factory that oozes assistance through the governmental process.

It's a good thing my faith lies elsewhere, because it certainly isn't in the people who make such statements of "quickly" and then leave the area to languish on the brink after they've gotten away from the place where their sound bites have the most visibility.

In all fairness, much has happened quicker this time than it did after Rita. Shoot! It's only 12 days after the storm and I have power.

But further into the paper is an editorial by Dan Rather that points out that once again our hard hit area is being overshadowed by another hurricane and the admittedly difficult financial situation our country is facing. What does that say about how our assistance programs are run when the 4th largest city in the country slides into national oblivion?

Oh! We haven't dropped completely off the map yet, and probably won't until the next disaster pops up. What angers me is that I've already seen with my own eyes the "speed of snail" pace which usually leads to further deterioration of a damaged home and damaged heart and soul. I am angry and fearful that we will see the same thing this time.

When do you think I should begin to believe the fragile promises of quick relief? When pigs fly.

When pigs fly.

Ain't It Amazing?

This may be scattershot and a bit rambling, but here are some ruminations from our return from exodus and exile:

The boy, the dog, and I returned home yesterday evening to a house with no power and houses all around us running noisy generators. After we brought everything back inside, our next task was opening windows to get as much of a cross-breeze as was available. Fortunately, Ike left cool weather in his wake, not like Rita, who left us to swelter.

Damage to the house appears to be minimal, but I'll be a lot happier after the first rain. That way I can find any mysterious leaks that might still exist. Today as I went through the garage, I found all sorts of dead worms. I'm not sure if they were blown into the garage by the storm or water brought them into the garage or they just tried to get away from the rain and crawled into the first dry spot they found. Some of them made it pretty far into the garage before dying, so I'm a bit skeptical about that last option.

We had to put the dog in a kennel while we were in Duncanville because my sister-in-law is quite allergic to dog dander. On the trip back home, she kept sneezing and is having a truly snorky time of it even now. She's still eating and acting mostly ok, but I'm a bit worried about her. We may be making a visit to the vet's tomorrow, if he's up and running.

Last night, I ended up sleeping on the couch, because the Penster wouldn't sleep in the coolest part of the house by herself. She wanted to sleep near me, but managed to ensconce herself in the most inextricable places and then honk and snork. She sounded so pitiful. At least when we got someplace cooler, she rested a little better, even though she still honks and snorks.

We had worship this morning, all 9 of us. That wasn't quite everyone who was in town, but it was a fair representation of us. Mostly it was a time of sharing "storm stories" and talking about how Rita and Ike were similar, but different. Several of us are having a difficult time with the experiences related to the noise of generators and, especially, chain saws, and seeing blue tarps once again decorating so many roofs.

Yet in the midst of all that has come up again because of Ike, we've once again found the presence of God. "This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!" Be glad that the vast majority of us came through the storm in much better shape than after Rita. Be glad that here it is only a week since the storm came through and power is returning so quickly this time. It was 3 weeks after Rita before the power crews were even close to my house. Be glad that there is a cool breeze to help us survive the time without the electrical power we've gotten so used to having.

It was an odd feeling when the electricity came back on today. I was truly enjoying the open windows and the gentle breeze and the lack of constant news streams about this, that and the other about the aftermath of Ike. There was a sense of peace that I can't quite put my finger on, even though there was the sound of generators in the background. It was pleasant to lie on the couch and read a book, just relaxing. Of course, no one said we had to close the windows and doors once the power came back on. However, it seemed to be a good idea, since the dog was having such a difficult time honking and snorking.

I've also been blessed with a wonderful son! When we got home yesterday, after taking pictures with his phone camera because mine had died, he started removing downed limbs from the yard. This morning, he got up and went to the store and bought the last axe they had. He spent the rest of the morning and first part of the afternoon hacing away at the limbs too big to move and the limb that straddled the powerline into the house. It's not all out at the curb yet, but he managed to accomplish most of the task.

Right now, I'm looking out the sliding glass door and noticing the "thinness" of the trees. Rita thinned them out a good bit. But Ike has taken even more out. It's strange to see the sky through what's left. Thinking back on today, the sun has seemed, well, more present. It is an odd feeling.

Hurricanes and natural disasters seem to do that - leave you with an odd feeling. In time it will go away. It did after Rita. In the meantime, I guess we'll just have to live with the odd.

A Strange Perspective of Time

I’m not sure whether it is a blessing or a curse to have experienced another significant hurricane so recently. The weather nerds all say that an upper level Category x storm is the equivalent of the next higher category. So, by that definition, Southeast Texas has experienced two Category 3 hurricanes within the past 3 years. In such a situation, what would any normal brain do? Why … try to expect the exact same things to happen after each of them, of course!

Unfortunately, my brain seems to have retained a somewhat skewed perception of the events immediately after Her Horribleness and what’s happening now after HIS Horribleness. What makes it even more difficult to deal with is that both Rita and Ike hit the area in almost the same time frame at almost exactly the same time of the same month in almost the exact concurrence of two major storms within a short period of time. Katrina clobbered Louisiana about 3 weeks before Rita, while Gustav hit southwest Louisiana just 2 weeks before Ike. YIKES!

So, of course, our experience of the two storms must be exactly the same. Right? … Wrong.

Certainly, there are some similarities. I’ve already mentioned a few. Another is that, for the most part, southeast Texas seems to be once again overshadowed by the devastation experienced elsewhere. If you watch the major news channels, Galveston, Bolivar Peninsula, and Houston receive the vast majority of the coverage, while Beaumont, Bridge City, and Orange may crop up in passing. My brain screams “Not fair! Not fair!” at the tv set.

There are differences as well. When Rita came roaring through Sabine Pass, we ended up on the “clean” side of the storm. There was some storm surge in the area, but most of the devastation experienced by the area was wind damage. With Ike … well, we got the “dirty” side of the storm. I knew that water was insidious and capable of major destruction. But I don’t think I ever really realized that water coming up into an area with such deceptive slowness could produce such incredible damage as what I’ve seen in the pictures of Bridge City and elsewhere along the coast. It totally boggles the mind.

If I really put my thinking cap on, I’m able to remember that 3 days after Rita hit we were almost as clueless about what’s going to happen and when as it feels we are right now. About now, someone might be asking, “Well, didn’t we learn something from Rita? Can’t we do it better this time around?” I have a feeling we did, and probably are doing it better this time around, but it doesn’t feel that way because there are differences between the two storms.

Stop and think for a moment. When Rita hit, the vast majority of the community had evacuated and only a very few souls remained in town. In my congregation, only one family weathered the storm in their home, and only one family who came back before the third day after the storm. This time, about a third of our congregation stayed in their homes while Ike roared through. They’ve experienced the immediate desolation and lack of resources, information, and air conditioning. True, within the first week after Rita, there were just as many, if not more, back in the 100+ degree heat, which we haven’t had this time around. (Praise God!!) But by having so many in town to experience the aftermath so quickly, it seems as though we should already have power and clean water and sewage and full grocery stores and on and on right now!

I find myself getting really frustrated because I’m not back in Beaumont yet. When Rita hit, on the day she hit, I was able to make it back to Texas from my meeting in California and, on Sunday, I made it to Mom’s in Houston. I was just a hop, skip and a jump away from getting back home. This time, it will be at least a 4 ½ hour drive to get there, and I won’t have the easy resources of Mom’s electricity, phone, and internet connection to fall back on. Her home is in about the same shape as mine: powerless, grocery-store-less, resourceless.

I have to remind myself that it’s only been 3 days since the storm came through. At 3 days after Rita, we had National Guard personnel posted at the exits to town and no one could easily go in or out. That has not been true this time around. We’ve actually gotten a bit more information and a bit more healing happening a bit more quickly than it did after Rita. Who would have ever imagined that Lumberton would have power by now? Or downtown Beaumont? By the first Sunday worship after Rita, we were still without power at the church. They’ve already had power for two days this time around!

I have to remind myself that the first day we were permitted to come in, take a quick look, and get out after Rita was almost exactly a week after the storm. I already know that my house doesn’t have a tree through the roof, and I knew that on Monday. My backdoor neighbor was able to see what damage had occurred and called me to let me know. What a blessing!

Yes, we’ve had two somewhat similar storms happen way too closely for my comfort zone. Yes, there’s still the frustration of not having things happen as quickly as we’d like them to. Yes, I’m Oh! Sooooo! ready to be in my own home with everything back to normal, once again.

But I’m beginning to realize that we’re Oh! So! Blessed this time around in so many ways. Sure, there are glitches as things which didn’t happen during Rita, like the major flooding, are being addressed this time around in the different ways that are now called for.

Yet I’m reminded that God is truly in the midst of this experience - walking alongside us, mourning losses, feeling our frustration, calming fears, bringing sanity back when it feels that we can’t handle any more. I guess there’s one more similarity between those two storms: We made it through Rita with God’s help as communities have come together to help each other stitch up the wounds and heal the injuries we‘ve sustained. I’m pretty sure we’ll make it through Ike the same way.

After the Storm

It's real and it isn't.

For my mom, she learned the house is ok, but can't seem to understand that getting power back into Houston is going to take a while. "Once power gets to the grocery store I can go back. That shouldn't take too long. They're bringing people from all across the country to put the electrical system back together. It can't take that long."

Problem is there are over 3 MILLION people without power in the Houston area alone. That's just for starters. Many of those "people from across the country" have been working their very appreciated fool heads off repairing the electrical systems in Louisiana demolished by Hurricane Gustav just a couple of weeks earlier. There comes a point when you run out of "people from across the country" who are available to help splice together damaged systems. They do have to keep a few people in their own areas to keep their own systems working.

Also, I remember how hard it was waiting for power to come back to my neighborhood when Her Horribleness blew through 3 years ago. I stayed with Mom in Houston and commuted. That doesn't look like a viable option this time around, and, even if it is, it's still a pretty stressful situation. Of course, there's no way I'm planning on staying in the DFW area for however long it takes the power to come on at home! Caught on the horns of a dilemma, aren't I?

This morning, I turned on one of the local tv stations' streaming video to the sounds of someone cutting limbs from a downed tree. My body actually flinched from the sound. It brings back so many visceral memories of listening to chainsaws cutting down trees for weeks? months? after Rita came through the area. There's a part of me that wonders if I can handle that sound for weeks on end again.

Last night, I tried to describe to myself how I felt. The best I could come up with is that I feel like I've been hit by a semi going full bore, drug for a while, and then had the truck come to rest on top of me. I recognize that this is the shock period of the disaster, and also that I'm still in limbo about the particular level of damage my own home has experienced.

What heightens the feeling is that I've only just been back in my home for less than a year. True, it's just a house and the stuff inside are just things. There's a part of me that really isn't tied to what is there. However, there's a sense of "place-less-ness" that has struck me rather deeply. Perhaps it has something to do with my mom's house also not being a viable fallback position at this time. Mom's lived in the same place for 45 years, so that's "home" in a way the my current living place isn't.

It's going to be a long journey through the night this time, I think. There's a bit of "C'mon, God! Twice in 3 years?! Give us a break!!" driving my feelings at the moment. My intellect tells me that the people who experienced Ike in Haiti and Cuba had it much, much worse than most of us. But heart's ruling head at the moment and I'm beginning to think a nice scream or two, with some fist-flailing at God thrown in for good measure, might be a good way to deal with the whole scenario at the moment.

I'll come back in a bit and let you know how that goes! Later!

Only in Beaumont

Last night, I was watching Hurricane Ike updates on The Weather Channel. Finally, the Weather Nerd (WN) posted in Beaumont comes on the screen. The wind and rain were rough at this point. WN was doing the hurricane dance, barely holding onto his hood and his mike and doing his best to stay in front of the camera lens.

WN doggedly gives his update from in front of Crockett Street. Lights are still blazing in the background at this time.

Suddenly, there's a shape moving in the background. It moved quickly, so I thought, "Debris".

A few moments later, the shape passes through the picture again. It's rather large and ghostly white. I thought, "Hmmmm...that's weird."

Finally, the large, white shape dances through the picture, making pirouettes and leaping.

AHA! The Weather Channel got streaked!! TEEHEE!!

Give the WN credit: He didn't miss a lick!

Deja Vu, Sort Of

Almost 3 years ago to the day, I was sitting in front of a tv a safe distance away while Hurricane Rita clobbered home. Here I am, once again, watching helplessly as Hurricane Ike does a number on the Golden Triangle.

As I watched again last night, once again there was a weather idiot doing the hurricane dance in the rain as the wind blew him around the street. The difference was that instead of standing in front of the Beaumont Public Library, he was standing in front of Crocket Street. As I watched through the night, lights were still on in the area. Wouldn't you know it? The lights went off at about 2:15am, again!

I lasted as long as there was any useful information available, watching The Weather Channel and, this time, keeping track of the Golden Triangle via streaming video on KFDM-TV.

Now, I'm watching as the storm continues to go through town, and checking in on everyone who stayed behind. The storm is still working it's way through the area and will be for several hours. Once again, we have no idea how long it will be before it will be possible to get back home. This time, Mom's house is in the evacuation zone, so, until we know more, I won't even be able to get within 1 1/2 hours of home.

Deja vu, sort of.

I hate waiting to find out how things are at home!

(Hey! Love, Rita! How're you doing?)

Time to Leave?

The Weather Channel has posted Jim Cantore in Galveston! SCREECH!!

Somehow Cantore always ends up in the place where the eye of the storm passes. Ike's going to hit land at Cat 3, maybe Cat 4. Even if the beastie ends up in Galveston, it's going to be fairly nasty here in Beaumont, since we'll be on the "wrong" side of the storm.

The bags are mostly packed. They need to go into the car.

Cantore was musing that the window of opportunity for evacuation was beginning to close.

But I'm still dithering over whether to leave or not.

Can you hear the fear ratcheting up? I can!

Ready to Boycott!

Ok - I've had it!

I'm about ready to call for a boycott. Don't know if I can stand it any longer and am feeling the need to encourage a boycott.

Of what, you ask?

Weathercasters using the term "ramp up" (or any variation thereon) when giving their reports on hurricanes.

Would someone please explain to me why this particular term has come into being? I do remember more or less when we began to hear it in the news and what it's associated with; however, what the heck to do ramps have to do with a hurricane gathering strength?

The Weather Channel appears to be one of the worst offenders, at least in my experience. It is virtually impossible to get through a tropical update without hearing the term not once, not twice, but on and on. Have they run out of descriptors, or creativity, or have they just been on air for so long dealing with storm after storm that they've forgotten what vocabulary they learned prior to walking in front of a camera? Well, that last one probably isn't the reason, since they've been using the term since the first storm of the season.

I've been trying to limit my exposure to said weathercasters, but it is sometimes difficult.

Fortunately, there are other news sources where one can glean pertinent information. But I must admit I find it helpful to see the reports of the storms in motion, so I'll probably have to endure a "ramp up" or two from time to time.

But ...

I'm ready for a boycott!! Anyone interested in joining me?

Speaking of Rita ...

Oops! Did I say Rita? I meant Gustav.

Actually, I wasn't too far off the first time.

It has come to my attention that some of what I'm experiencing now, and have been since Gustav came roaring over the horizon, is related to Rita.

While I don't believe what I'm experiencing is classic, full-blown PTSD, I'm certainly experiencing some of the symptoms, and I suspect that's perfectly normal when you're looking down the barrel of a potentially Category 5 hurricane, like Gustav was as my family and others fled the Golden Triangle area.

It strikes me that Gustav was the perfect trigger for subconscious flashbacks to how Rita affected our lives. So it should be no surprise (but was) that I'm suddenly hypervigilant about hurricanes in general and that darned "hurricane train" chugging through the Atlantic at the moment, in particular.

Here's what the mayoclinic.com website has to say about PTSD: (Hope they don't get mad if I cut-n-paste instead of link. I'd rather have this info all in one spot.)

"Post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms may include:

Flashbacks, or reliving the traumatic event for minutes or even days at a time
Shame or guilt
Upsetting dreams about the traumatic event
Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event
Feeling emotionally numb
Irritability or anger
Poor relationships
Self-destructive behavior, such as drinking too much
Hopelessness about the future
Trouble sleeping
Memory problems
Trouble concentrating
Being easily startled or frightened
Not enjoying activities you once enjoyed
Hearing or seeing things that aren't there

Post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms can come and go. You may have more symptoms during times of higher stress or when you experience symbolic reminders of what you went through."

Nothing symbolic about watching those hurricane symbols and cones of probability crossing the screen! *she said sarcastically, shakes head* Well, nothing symbolic beyond the fact that those were what I watched from a hotel in California as Rita inexorably headed this way. The fact that Gustav didn't send me fleeing from the state screaming is probably a minor accomplishment.

Truth is, I most likely don't have full-blown PTSD. However, I fully believe it's possible to have a situationally induced experience of the symptoms. I'm also reasonably certain I'm not the only person feeling this way.

The most important thing for me to hold onto right now is that I'm not imagining things and I'm not crazy! It's completely understandable for one to feel the way you did when you came home to the hole in the roof and thawed stuff in the fridge almost exactly three years ago. True, no hole in the roof this time, but I did apparently accidentally turn off the fridge, so I once again lost the contents of a freshly stocked refrigerator. *sigh*

This, too, shall pass. A little bit faster now that I've realized what's going on, I hope, but sooner or later life will get back to normal.

...

Probably after hurricane season is completely over!

Tunnel Vision

While this isn't a new phenomenon, it just came to my attention that I get a real case of tunnel vision when it comes to hurricanes.

At some level, the world came to an almost complete stop once Hurricane Gustav began to take aim at the northern Gulf Coast. I'm not certain if it is a function of watching Her Horriblness bear down on Southeast Texas while I was stuck helplessly watching from California, or just a lurid fascination for the potential destructive power of a hurricane. Perhaps a bit of both.

It drives me nuts almost to not know the latest info on whatever hurricane happens to have the potential to head to the Gulf Coast. Even if I'm working on something else, the impending storm lingers there at the edge of my consciousness.

I even found myself "slipping" on things that I would ordinarily have remembered: I sent an email to my church list, asking them to let me know where they were headed if they were evacuating, and reminding them that I'd be serving as 'info central' until Gustav had left the premises. To start the ball rolling, I'd intended to let everyone know my plans. I had to be reminded gently by one of my members that I'd forgotten!

Just knowing that a hurricane tipping the scales at Category 4 (at that point) was headed into the Gulf was enough to rattle me.

And now? There's a whole herd of them headed across the Atlantic. The functioning part of my brain tells me that all those beasties aren't aimed right toward the "Chute" into the Gulf. The less rational part isn't so sure that we won't have a collection of visitors in the next couple of weeks.

I'm almost, but not quite, convinced that Hanna won't just keep going west and follow the National Hurricane Center track up the East Coast. Ike's a bit scarier, but then, he's still got a ways to go before he's a threat. Josephine? Well, I really don't need Josephine the Plumber to come by to Comet-cleanse my sinks!

ACK! Gotta go! It's time for the latest updates! Later!

Here We Go Again

Last time a Category 3+ hurricane headed toward my part of the Gulf Coast I was sitting at a meeting and living in a hotel in Sacrament, CA. All my church members were frantically preparing to evacuate and I was stuck in a hotel room, watching minute by minute on any tv within my range of vision. As Rita took aim, all I could do was sit there, jittering, thinking about all the stuff that could/should be done to get my house ready for the storm and worrying about whether my members needed any help to get ready and get out of town.

This time, I'm here. At the moment, Gustav is a Cat 4, and has just a little bit more to reach Cat 5. The local authorities have called for voluntary evacuation, especially for those with special needs. We may be looking at mandatory evacuation as early as tomorrow morning.

I'm not stupid. I remember well how little of our infrastructre was functioning after Rita and have no great desire to spend days in sweltering heat. And there WILL be sweltering heat after Gustav gets through.

There are some who think that the "tree cleaning" that happened with Rita has pretty much handled the tree-limbs-dropping-on-power/phone lines problem. Yes, I'm sure it will help. The electric company has done a really good job of keeping those dangling limbs away from the lines. BUT I have a tree in my backyard that will take out the power lines if the worst of the storm heads this way. It leans toward the back of my property, where the power lines are. One good hurricane-strength shove and it's gone! And so are the power lines.

So I'm leaving town. Not today, but probably tomorrow at some point.

Now I get to jitter about my members who've decided that, no matter what, they aren't evacuating. Which is more important? Lives and being available for family, children, grandchildren or a building?

My son hasn't experienced anything like this. He's leaving today to head up to Oklahoma and spend the evacuation with friends. Clothes are washing, he loaded the dishwasher, and covered the piano with a tarp.

Then he wanted to take the metal lining out of the brick planter that's just inside the front door. The goal was to put valuable stuff in the planter, then put the line back in it, so no one could steal the stuff in it. My response? They've just things. They can be replaced. I'm taking the important stuff with me, and the rest? Well, it'll either survive the storm, not get swiped if someone breaks in, or be damaged. I'll live. It's just STUFF!

Then there are those who heard the stories of how easy it was to evacuate if you just wait until the next day. So there are a lot of people I've heard say that they aren't planning to go in the first wave. Just what we need to ensure that there are 1,000's of people stuck in cars on the road when Gustav finally makes landfall. *sigh*

Part of the reason for this post is to give me a record of what's going on with me. I've been keeping an eye on Gustav since he became a legitimate threat. Even though I'm in town and there are things to keep me busy this time, there's still that nagging sense of being on edge which is right at the edge of my vision. Hard to describe the feeling. It's sort of a sense of excitement mixed with a healthy fear of what might come.

The dog has been aware that there's something going on. She's in mild freak mode, barking at the slightest sound that might be interpreted as someone encroaching on her domain. I think she finally wore herself out, 'cuz she's sleeping in the other room.

It's totally amazing what one can accomplish in terms of decluttering when you have a category 4 (they just announced it) hurricane aiming at you. I have stuff in my office that I've been putting off shoving into the file cabinets for almost a year. All of the sudden, it's become less important to save every single page of those old sermons. (I do have them on the computer, mostly.) And all of the sudden, I find myself saying, "Self, what's a lost sermon in the grand scheme of things? Probably the only person who'd notice is me, and there's a good chance even I'd forget!

The other thing which has been going through my mind is what our worship on Sunday should look like. Somehow, just the usual way of worship doesn't seem adequate. and I'm not sure that any sermon I could come up with would be sufficient. So I've decided to do something different tomorrow. Lectio divina, the reading of scripture, meditating on it, listening for what God is saying to you right now, I'm hoping it will feed some nervous souls. I've found some hymns to use with the scriptures I'll be using, so that may help as well.

After worship, we're putting tarps on the pianos and organ. That may help too! *chuckle* Nothing like some activity and visible progress to help soothe ragged and frayed nerves.

THEN, I hope we can chivvy all of us out of town!

Well, it's time to finish up a couple of pre-hurricane tasks, then I'll be ready to bail when the authorities say, "GO!"

The Scenic Route

I have a truly lousy sense of direction. Don't try and tell me to go north, south, east, or west, or any variation thereof. I've been known to foul up GPS directions, so I all to often end up taking the scenic route. The good news is that I tend to eventually get to the place I intend to go. It just takes longer.

On Saturday, I was returning from a meeting in Katy and decided to try following a different road from the old tried-and-true standby. Before striking out, I should have realized this would be an exercise in futility; however, there was no extreme hurry to get home, so I blithely hit the road with confidence that this route would work!

All of the sudden, I noticed that the route number I'd been following had just plain disappeared. Of course, the fact that the road suddenly became a much smaller farm-to-market road was a major clue. Being bold, I decided to follow the road a bit longer. Or was it being stubborn and refusing to backtrack?

In any case, the car and I turned left when it seemed appropriate to do so. After all, Katy is to the right of Beaumont, isn't it? At least it is when you're headed toward the coast. Unfortunately, I seemed to end up in a tangle of farm-to-market roads and began to get truly confused.

Stopping, I grabbed my rusty, trusty folding map out of the glove compartment and attempted to make it refold so I could see the part of Texas where my car was. Several minutes later, it appeared that I had two options: head on down to the coast where I couldn't drive any further, turn left, and take the Bolivar Ferry to get home OR capitulate, drive BACK to Houston, and then trudge down the dull, boring, flat road home.

Yep! The ferry won! One problem: I forgot how long it takes to wait on the ferry, especially on the weekends. The total trek ended up being almost 6 hours, instead of about 2 for the standard trip home.

But I got to see some dolphins play!

It's good to take the scenic route from time to time, isn't it?

Explanation Please?

Can someone give me a rational explanation?

It's 90+ degrees outside. The water pipes go through the attic to get to the bathroom faucets.

So why is it that when I turn on the cold water faucet, the water comes out blazing hot for about a minute or so, then finally settles into its usual cold temperature? AND, when I turn on the hot water faucet, the water comes out as cool as can be for a minute or so, then finally settles into its usual hot temperature?

'Tis a mystery!

Phelps Phelps Phelps

I'll grant you that Michael Phelps has attained a great accomplishment. In winning 8 gold medals at one Olympics, his individual wins set 5 gold medals with world record times. No complaints here that Phelps is a focused athlete and is deserving of attention.

Here's my gripe: 3 of those gold medals were team events, yet Phelps' teammates get only limited attention and, when they do end up in interviews, they get asked about how they feel about helping Phelps win his 8 golds.

The reality is that those 8 gold medals were a team effort, an effort where the teammates are worthy of attention in their own right. If they had not been competing with the same focus and at the top of their individual games, Phelps could have been 3 gold medals short of the record.

Somehow, whenever the Olympics come around, a few people become media darlings, generally deserving athletes, at the expense of other deserving athletes who have also worked hard to reach this premier event in their lives. I recognize that there are only so many hours of airtime available and probably more stories than the time available, much less to also cover the events.

It still seems a shame in this time of accomplishing a record that may well be impossible to improve upon (except by setting new time records) that ALL of those who made it possible are not being held up in the spotlight with the honor they deserve.

freecreditreport.com

Let's see. There are what? 3? 4? of those freecreditreport.com commercials floating around the airwaves now.

Each one of them has a somewhat different annoying song.

Each one of them has a scenario where some guy doesn't quite have the perfect lifestyle because he didn't check with freecreditreport.com to be sure his identity hasn't been stolen, or his fiance has perfect credit, or can only get a broken-down used vehicle instead of the latest dream machine. The latest of these has some guy "going green", not because he was being environmentally conscious, but because the only thing he could afford with his credit was a bike.

Now I haven't quite decided if this series of commercials implies that men are really too stupid to make reasonable credit decisions, or men are the only ones concerned about how their credit is perceived, or that women are so smart about this that we don't have to market to them, or that women are too stupid to even begin to understand the concept of keeping track of one's credit rating.

The only time a woman gets mentioned is when the fiance neglects to mention a credit default, so they have to live with her folks instead of in a home of their own. Now, I'm not completely nuanced in this stuff, but, as I understand it, that's not particularly accurate.

In any case, I'm not planning on using their "free" service anytime in the near future, just on general principle. The reality is that men and women need to check this stuff out and keep some kind of track on it. The other reality is that there are truly free ways of checking with the credit report companies, without getting rooked into joining a "service" which does the same thing you can do yourself.

Now if I could just get those stupid jingles out of my head!

Rant

When the cupboard gets bare and the world has been a bit frustrating, I occasionally head to Mickey D's for breakfast instead of scrounging and scraping something together from the depths of the cabinets. Besides I deserve a splurge from time to time, don't I?

So.... this morning I headed to my nearby junkfood outlet and placed my order at the box. Simple order: Sausage McMuffin (no cheese) and small OJ. The voice through the box asks if I want the meal. What the heck! It won't be that much more, so "Sure!". Then he announces that'll be $4.76. WHAT!!!!! "Could you please redisplay the ticket on the screen?" "No, I've already cleared it and will have it corrected at the window." *very large sigh*

Drive around the corner and get to window only to be informed that the cost is indeed $4.76. Now, let's stop and think a moment. The Sausage McMuffin is listed as $1.89 on the board. The small OJ is $1.00. I hadn't looked at the price of the hash browns (what makes this a meal), since I wasn't originally planning on getting them, but even at their worst it's about $1.00. $1.89 + $1.00 + $1.00 = $3.89 (plus tax - which is nowhere near 20%). Shoot! Even the Sausage McMuffin WITH EGG meal has a price of $3.69 before tax.

Nope! Wasn't buying that figure. The clerk at the window doesn't see anything wrong with the total. After all, the computer said it. It must be right! I grouse. The assistant manager comes to the window and pushes keys on the computer to come up with $4.65. Nope! Wasn't buying that figure either.

They get the manager. HE tried to convince me that my plain-Jane McMuffin was a big seller and that's why it cost more. Again. I'm not buying. I even had to tell him that the price for what I wanted was $1.89 on the board AND where it was located in the vast array of choices out there. I also groused that there wasn't a "meal" price available on the board, so there was no quick and easy way for me to tell him what the "meal" price should be. ('Though the guy SHOULD have known all of this, if he's the manager. I know! I know! My expectations may be set a bit too high.)

I think the guy saw that I was about to explode and take my business elsewhere, so he said "How would $2.05 be?" Well, DUH! Of course I agreed. I truly had no desire to take advantage of the situation and wanted to pay what was fair. However, there was at least one car waiting behind me and I didn't want to start arguing that I'd be glad to pay $3.50, which was about what I had expected it to be.

While I'm irked at this particular part of this particular Evil Empire, I think what irritated me more was the realization that there'd be a fairly large number of people who would not even think twice about the incorrect amount originally quoted. Far too many people trust that the computer must be right, that there could be no human error OR no internal calculation error on the part of the computer.

Even the manager ultimately didn't see what was wrong with the numbers. He was just placating an irrate customer. I'd kept a basic estimate of the cost running in my head and knew immediately that something was wrong. How many people wouldn't even have thought, or been able, to do that much?

Computers are wonderful tools. But they aren't perfect. If we don't have the skills to double-check their calculations, even through rough guesstimate, then we are leaving ourselves vulnerable to being overcharged (in the case of financial transactions) or even harm to our lives or death (if one considers the possible miscalculation of medication dosages or even the fuel consumption of an airplane).

I'm so glad that I was taught how to do basic arithmetic without calculators or computers!

Will It Ever End?

Close. Oh, so close!

Mondays aren't usually bad days, and today is no exception. Meandered out to the mailbox after the Penster had a minor conniption fit because the mailperson dared to walk across our front porch. What did I find?

A check! Unopened, I thought "I'm finally at the end of dealing with the hurricane repair work! La-la-la-la-la!" After dancing my way back into the house, I opened the envelope. They got it almost right. The mortgage company is still holding $2,000 hostage.

When I got hold of a very helpful customer service rep, she told me they were still waiting on the "waiver of lien" and "completion of repair" certification! I mailed those puppies, next day mail, almost a week ago! OUTRAGE!! Turns out I picked the wrong address from the forms. The mortgage company had received it. It just didn't think to tell the part of their company that cuts the checks about it. *sigh*

The last of my buckos should arrive sometime later this week. At least, that's what I'm hopeful of. Still, I'm wondering. Do you think all this will ever end?

Let the Dancing Begin!

Just this very minute the final inspection of the repairs to the hurricane damage was finished and the work declared 100% complete!!!!!

It only took 2 3/4 years to get to this point.

Let the happy dancing begin!!

That is all. We return you now to your regularly scheduled programming.

Peripheral Damage

It's been what? Four weeks? since lightning struck the neighbor's tree and wrought minor havoc to my house?

I've had several people tell me to check out my appliances and such because lightning has this weird habit of affecting electrical stuff in the vicinity. Of course, I think refrigerator... tv... computer... printer... phones. With minor previously mentioned exceptions, those things are all working just fine, thank you.

I get back from my trip and the son says, "Mom. I think the DVD player is broken." I decide to tape a tv show and the VCR is acting all wonky and won't let me program it. Then it refuses to even tape the show I'm watching. This morning, I decide to have some toast and the toaster refuses to do more than dry out one side of the bread while not even heating the other side.

Didn't even think of checking out the minor appliances after the storm. I believe I'm experiencing the further aftermath of that "stroke of luck".

At least my can opener still works!

A Funny thing Happened on the Way to ...

General Assembly.

Well, not really, but it seemed like a good title. *chuckle*

A chapter in my life ended this week. I attended my last General Assembly as a member of the General Assembly Committee on Representation. Well, at least, this time around. While it's always possible that I may serve on the committee again, it won't be for some time. *sigh*

Much has happened since I attended my first COR meeting about 8 years ago. The committee has grown, and so have I. And my work on the committee has been instrumental in my own personal growth.

Funny thing, that. I wouldn't have particularly considered myself a rabble-rouser prior to this. A minor agitator from time to time, but not a rabble-rouser. However, there was something about this committee when I got on it that wouldn't let me stop poking at the assumptions being made and the opportunities for an impact on our denomination that slipped by.

For those who aren't up on their Presbyterianism, the Committee on Representation was established as a part of the Articles of Agreement, which led to Reunion in 1983 of the United Presbyterian Church in the USA (northern stream) and Presbyterian Church in the US (southern stream). There was great fear that leadership in the denomination would revert to the majority culture, since the selection of leaders would come only from geographic bodies, not from groups that were made up of minorities. There was a fear that racial/ethnic leadership would be lost, leadership which was just beginning to come into being at the time. Thus, the Committee on Representation came into being - an accountability group to report on how well the leadership of the denomination reflects the makeup of our members.

When I attended my first meeting, I kept seeing situations that cried out for comment being left behind on the floor. Mind you, it wasn't members of the majority culture letting these things slide. Those of the racial/ethnic minorities kept saying, "no, we'd better not". In the years since reunion, this committee, which could have had a major impact on the makeup of Presbyterian leadership, had sidelined itself into obscurity.

Three or four of us got together and griped and groused and complained our way into the committee beginning to take positions on issues of importance. All that hard work may have finally paid off.

This year, our denomination was presented with a new Form of Government (part of our denomination's "operating manual") for review, comment, and, perhaps, acceptance. There is much that is positive in the proposal; however, while it didn't eliminate a call to diversity and inclusiveness, it did eliminate the Committee on Representation. To be fair, it also eliminated every other committee that is currently required by our denomination. It didn't say that the varying levels of the church couldn't have them. It just didn't require them.

When I first got on the Committee on Representation (COR), we probably wouldn't have said "Boo!" and the committee would have quietly faded out of existence. Not now. When we got the first edition of the changes, we made a case for continuing the COR to the Task Force assigned the duty of revising the document. In response, the language was changed to "may establish a mechanism for ensuring diversity and inclusiveness". (that's the gist of it, I don't have it in front of me)

Although it was a concession, we didn't stop there. You have to understand that "may" and "shall" are super-significant words when it comes to polity. So, when the final version went to the General Assembly Commissioners for their study and, ultimately, their vote, we drafted an "advise and counsel" statement encouraging the commissioners to amend the final version to include COR's. In all the years I've served on the committee, this is the first time we've ever taken such a bold step on any issue! [Yes, in the past, the COR has taken a solid stance on some issues, but they are few and far between ... and, up to this point, it hadn't happened once in my 8 years on the committee.]

At the General Assembly, I had the opportunity to speak on behalf of the COR before the committee which would make a recommendation of what would happen to the revision when it was presented to the entire General Assembly. The final outcome was that the whole document was referred for study and tweaking for two years, with a comment made that the concerns of the COR be addressed in the revisions. YAY!!

And, you know what? Eight years ago, I was still a fairly shy person, having to build up my courage just to drop one of those 'tweak of the nose' comments into the conversation on any issue. Now, I'm able to jump into the fray and state my position with the best of them! OK - I still get shy when it comes to large groups, but eight years ago, I wouldn't have been caught dead speaking at a General Assembly, for any reason! "You've come a long way, baby!" YAY!!

On Father's Day

My dad was a quiet, tall man. A mathematician. A scientist. Hugs and "I love you" were not part of his parenting vocabulary. He did the best he could with the tools his parents gave him. Took me a very long time to figure that out.

The family story is that, after dad's graduation from college, I followed him around like a lost puppy once Mom and I caught up with him when he moved to Texas before us. What I do remember is "helping" Dad with his experiments as he tried to create a way to scavenge clean water from the air around us. The apparatus was hooked to a vacuum cleaner and never quite worked as he hoped, but I was a part of it. I never learned until after he died that he had several patents. NASA owns them, but they are in his name.

Dad was an atrocious punster. He'd get a twinkle in his eye when he caught someone using a phrase that he could turn into a real stinker. Only once in my entire life did I ever get him back. At a family Thanksgiving dinner, he let off one that absolutely reeked. I turned to my aunt and, doing a takeoff on an old Prell commercial, said "You'll just have to excuse him. He just washed his brain and can't do a thing with it." In time, I learned that the only way to hold my own with him was to staunchly remain silent, pretending I already had the answer, when he snuck up to a zinger. It frustrated the heck out of him! And I usually found out where he was going anyway, because there was generally one sucker in the room who'd have to ask Who? or What? or Why?

Our entire family roller skated competitively. Not roller derby, but like the artistic ice skating competitions. Dad was a hard taskmaster and expected us to work to improve. Yet my fondest memories are of the times he skated with me as his dance partner, and when we did the 14-Step with him doing the women's steps and me doing the men's. What fun!

I was well into adulthood before I realized that "What needs to be fixed?" and "I've noticed 'x', let me get my tool box." actually meant "I love you." When I was a child, I desperately wanted to learn to play the piano. Dad, a fine craftsman, was building a bookcase/desk/cabinet unit into the family room wall. He left a piano-sized space in it for a time when we might get a piano. Later on, when we did, it was just precisely the right size for a small upright. He almost got skunked on it, though, because most pianos at the time were about 1 inch taller than the space he'd left.

On the day that my world went to hell in a hand-basket, Dad was the one who said, "We'll be there as soon as we can. Will you be all right 'til we get there?" The time I left Houston for Austin and forgot my purse, Dad decided that they ought to drive it all the way to Austin instead of sending it via UPS. No cell phones in those days!

In the year before he died, Dad was afraid that he soon might not be able to say some of the things he wanted to. So he wrote me a letter, which I keep in my fireproof safebox. It is very precious to me.

So, on this Father's Day, I want to say, "I love you, Dad, and miss you very much." I'm pretty sure he heard that.

Can't Win for Losing, Part 2

Well, the insurance adjustor just finished his thing and .... TADA! Even at the top limit on the numbers, I come out $65 less than my deductible in repairs. Somehow that's not a total surprise. Frustrating, though. Ahhhhh, well! It could be MUCH worse.

Can't Win for Losing

What a wonderful day! (*she said sarcastically*)

This morning about 10am a nasty chunk of a storm came through. It hadn't started raining and wasn't particularly windy, but all of the sudden there was a huge KA-BOOM! It was mighty close and the critter decided that it was worthy of getting worried about. At least, she didn't try to sit on my head!

As I left the house for an appointment, I happened to look up and see this:



After the appointment, I came back home and got ready to go to the office. Just as I was getting ready to go out the door to my car, I hear another KA-BOOM! Nope. Not lightning. The top of the tree landed on my garage and driveway.

The good news is that my son's car was not in the driveway or it would have been smushed. Another good thing is that my car was in the garage, so it wasn't damaged, even though I can't get out of the garage until someone cuts the huge limb into little pieces and hauls them out of the way. The other good thing is that I didn't really have to go anywhere this afternoon.

It was the neighbor's tree, but, since there wasn't any negligence, guess who gets to pay for fixing things. Ayup! Right on the first try.

Just what I needed right now. Another deductible to come out of too shallow pockets.

Not only that, but I ended up spending waaaay too much time trying to convince Time-Warner Cable that the too close lightning strike did a number on my internet connection. From their end, things were working just fine. From my end, I couldn't get either of my computers to actually speak to the internet. "Try this." "I did that already." "Let's try this." "I did that already." "Let's try one more thing." "I DID that already." After we went round and round, I bailed and talked to my computer guru friend and got enough information to be able to speak intelligently and affirmatively that the problem was my modem and I wanted to swap for a working one.

When my son got home, we made a trip to the local office and I'm online!

Someone just suggested that I oughta get my house exorcised. I was actually planning to have a house blessing once the last vestiges of hurricane damage were repaired. Guess I waited too long!

Under Pressure

Hurricane season 2008 has arrived!

How do I know that? Well, the annual ritual has begun. Promptly on June 1st, the Chronicle Hurricane Guide arrived with the newspaper. The Beaumont Enterprise neglected to follow suit, which I think is a big mistake. The Houston paper cannot adequately cover things like SE Texas evacuation routes and local resources. Plus not everyone currently living along the coast has ever lived near a coast nor knows what's involved in preparing for the potential hurricane. Besides, everyone needs to have a brand-new, pristine, official Hurricane Tracking Chart, don't they?

The Enterprise hasn't totally ignored hurricane season, since they've had articles about hurricane season beginning and Her Horribleness' affect on insurance and (one day later than the Chronicle) an article on how building codes in Texas haven't been modified to address updated innovations that might make a home more secure the next time a hurricane strikes the state. They've even had one of their weekly Lifestyles columnists do a piece on whether he'd stay in town or go the next time a hurricane headed this direction. (He'd GO!! Not quite so much because of the storm itself, although that would be a factor, as because of the discomfort in the aftermath. But still, at least it was an article advocating evacuation.)

Anyway, back to how I know it's hurricane season.

The Weather Channel has begun its "Tropical Update" at "ten 'til" each hour, with tips on preparation, lists of hurricane names, explanations of what the science currently knows about hurricanes, possible patterns for this time of year, and so on and so on. Actually I believe they do a fairly good job of providing pre-hurricane information and tracking updates from the moment there's an iffy area lurking out there. Sure, they get a bit hysterical when something begins to head to land. But then, if you're broadcasting 24-hours a day about the weather, sometimes you just have to find something, anything, to keep you (the weathercaster) awake.

But do you want to know how I really know it's hurricane season?

It's hurricane season because I've started watching the barometric pressure again. That's right! Six months out of the year I apparently don't even see the barometric pressure listed in the "Current Conditions" of "Local on the 8's". But once, June 1st rolls around, I'm suddenly aware of that number and whether it has an S or up/down arrow next to it.

Guess you could say that hurricane season is enough to put one under pressure.

Eep!

A momentary chuckle: It's evening. It's dark. The dog decides she really needs to go out. I head to the curtained sliding glass door, unlock it without pulling the curtain back very far. PLOP! hmmmmmm... Plop? Dog actually jumps backward. I think to myself, "Snakes don't go "plop", so what is it?" There on my side of the door is a nice, plump frog. I gently encourage the frog to return to its favored environment, which it politely did. Do you think the dog would go out after that? No Way! Silly dog.

Preach It!

I've been out of touch with most of the world this past week while attending the Festival of Homiletics in Minneapolis. It was a week of worship and lectures on preaching given by some of the big names in the reformed tradition. I think I'm about "worshipped out".

Don't get me wrong! It was great to be in a setting where about 2,100 pastors were listening to and learning more about their craft. The presenters did an awesome job. But 10 worship services in 4 1/2 days? It's a good thing I'm not preaching this Sunday!

As I drove home on the last leg of my trip, I suddenly realized that not a single one of the pastors who preached, and only one of the workshops, used powerpoint. Just the spoken word was powerful enough to get their messages across, and they did it in a way that kept your interest.

Occasionally, someone tossed out a $10 word, but then, they were preaching to pastors who should be able to understand them. However, what was most compelling was the vivid, descriptive language and the ways they shared the "old, old story".

It's funny, but most of them stayed in the pulpit, too, with only a couple of them wandering about the chancel area. And not a one of them walked out into the congregation as they spoke. I didn't even pick up on that until just now.

Of course, the big-name lecturers, people who teach people to preach, managed to contradict each other about some things. That really didn't surprise me too much. One said "every pastor must preach without notes". Another said "it just depends". And about half of those who led worship used manuscripts and half didn't. *chuckle*

Guess we'll all just have to continue to hone our craft, do the best we can before God, and preach the Good News with all our hearts and minds and souls and strength.

The Secret

It's baaaaaaa-ack!

The Power of Positive Thinking, that is. Sure it's wearing contemporary clothing and wrapped in the scientific language of quantum wavicle theory, but it's back nevertheless.

I was at a meeting this weekend and there was a segment on "The Secret Isn't a Secret". Time was spent going through the wavicle theory and how the observer interacts and affects the outcome of whatever's being observed. Well, DUH! This isn't a new concept! It's been around for quite some time.

Then the presenter gives a recent personal experience of thinking she's about to be fired from her job, and Lo! and behold! ... She's fired.

Please don't get me wrong. I've been involved in community and individual prayer for positive outcomes and been ecstatic when incredible outcomes occur. I've known people who've gotten their lives back together by changing the way they approach the experiences in their lives. I'm not saying that a positive approach to life isn't a good thing.

Yet ... I can't help but see the fallacy in this approach to life. While we were watching the associated video, I kept thinking of the person blind from birth whose positive thoughts were of being able to see, and nothing happens. Then the family dealing with Alzheimer's unrelenting path to lost and befuddled death, putting positive thoughts out into the universe while their loved one continued to die bit by bit, day by day. Do we tell the amputee that if they just think good thoughts long enough, that prosthetic will somehow become real?

If this kind of message comes from a religious person, are we not telling those whose dreams and visions are not (and perhaps cannot be) fulfilled in this life that God has rejected their requests, and, thus, the person themselves? It seems to me that if putting positive thoughts and visions out there were the solution to all of life's ills, that Jesus' prayer in Gethsemane would have been "Father, I've envisioned this wonderful, peaceful way to bring your kingdom into being", and he would have been spared the suffering and death of the crucifixion.

Of course, I guess you could also look at Gethsemane as Jesus putting out the negative vibes and then getting what he deserved. Hmmmmmmmmm.....that doesn't seem right either.

"Not my will, but Thine" is the prayer of relinquishment Jesus prays. That's the harder prayer to pray, and may be why we're drawn so quickly to the "happy talk" prayer. Guess I'm just getting cantankerous in my *chuckle* 'old age'. I find myself being drawn to that Gethsemane prayer: "God, I'd love for the wonderful, positive thing to happen ... my definition of the perfect vision to occur, but God, I relinquish all that I have and am to you and am willing to trust you with it. Not my will, but Thine, O God!"

In the Mail

When I moved back into my house, I made some well-considered decisions regarding my telephone, tv, and internet. Because I am a pastor, I really need the reliability and confidentiality that one can get on a landline telephone. Of course, the only secure landline is through AT&T, so guess who supplies my telephone service.

I've done the satellite tv bit before. Not only did I consistently lose the picture whenever there was a significant storm (one of those times you really need tv reception), but the satellite provider significantly changed the service they provided without notification. No more satellite for me! How does AT&T provide tv service? You've got it! Satellite! So, I get my tv service through cable.

Before the storm, I had dsl service. It was good, but not the fastest service for the price. So, when I got back home, I decided to go with Roadrunner.

All very clear decisions. Each particular choice told to the particular company with the reasons why I made the choices, and the fact that I would not be making any changes was particularly noted.

So, why is this post titled "In the Mail"?

Today's mail contained an advertisement from the phone company offering all sorts of incentives for me to shift my tv and internet to them, AND, an advertisement from the cable company offering all sorts of incentives for me to shift my phone service to them.

*sigh*

It'd save them all sorts of shekels in postage and ink and paper, and it'd save the environment too. Why won't they listen to their customers?

Quite a week!

I may someday catch up on this week's newspapers ... possibly, and am only stopping in here because I don't want to abandon things completely.

Besides the multitude of meetings that were scheduled for this week, one of my oldest members died. It is quite an honor to be present at that point where one passes from this life to the next, and this was a gentle transition. She had lived a long and full life and things were becoming difficult for her, so this was a blessing.

She had done some thinking about her funeral and had several things planned. First on the agenda? "No eulogy." So I didn't, but I couldn't leave her unmentioned. I snuck in a few memories in one of the prayers. *teehee*

The ladies of the church did an awesome job of preparing munchies for the visitation after the funeral. Her sister only wanted something to drink and some cookies. This crew doesn't do "halfway"! I told her sister to just accept an enjoy their gift. Once our crew gets started, even an armored tank couldn't stop them! There were homemeade sandwiches and cookies and punch and fruits and veggies with dips.

Such amazing people! My life has been truly enriched by getting to know them.

Now my feet are tired, and my brain is fried. I think I'm going to take a nap. It's been quite a week!

Whimsical Thought

If one believes that God created the earth and humanity and all creatures great and small, and declared it "very good" (Genesis 1:31, NRSV)

AND

If one believes that our beloved pets are welcomed into God's kingdom along with us humans,

THEN

are there mosquitos in heaven?

A Momentary Harumph!

Static! That's about all I get on my phone. Static! And it's no fun for either end of the conversation.

My AT&T payment includes the In-Line Plus that means the repair people can track down problems inside the house as well as outside without costing an arm and a leg. Everything's covered, right?

Call the repair center. "We've a longer than normal wait time right now. Why don't you try the website?", the voice message says. Ooooo-kay.

Get on website. Begin report. They do their magic via the computer generated testing thingy. Nope! No problems we can see. Here - go do these things first: followed by a list of steps which includes taking a screwdriver and opening some box on the outisde of my house.

WAIT A MINUTE!! Aren't I paying you so many buckos a month to do all that stuff when I have a problem?

I just clicked on the "been there, done that" button and am going to let them come out and tinker with it. HARUMPH!

Holy Carp!

For much of this week, I've been away from technology at the annual clergy retreat. So, only today have I caught up on reading my newspapers. Two thoughts arise from this marathon paper-reading: (Well, there's more than these two, but ...)

First thought -

In Houston this past week, the Catholic church has been celebrating the opening of its new co-cathedral. Okay. A reasonably big deal if you're Catholic. A one day wonder if you aren't, or at least that's the way I see it. The Houston Chronicle has had some kind of whiz-bang article at least four times since Sunday and three of those articles have been Section A, if not front-page. SHEESH!

I don't recall quite this much splash and bother over Joel O'Steen's church opening in the old Reliant Stadium. I certainly don't recall it hanging around on the front page for days. Even the new Buddhist temple didn't get this much coverage. Of course, I will admit that my memory isn't perfect and I didn't do any research to back up my impression.

However, I truly wonder if there would be such hoopla if the Presbyterians or Methodists or whatever denomination or religion built an equivalently brand-spanking new facility. Somehow, I doubt it. Ah, well! Such is life!

Second thought -

In today's paper, there's an article about insurers pulling out of insuring homeowners, if another hurricane blew in along the Texas coast. And mentioning that the current Texas Windstorm fund doesn't even have enough buckos to cover the cost of repair/replacement of insured buildings in Galveston County, if the next big one roared through there.

Here's what totally angers me - Insurers are upping their rates as much as 20-25% along the coast, for less coverage, and making huge profits in spite of whatever losses they may possibly have exprienced in 2005, and they're whining that "if another comes through, we're out of here!". ARGH!

OK, I believe in capitalism about as much as the next person; however, there's this part of me that wants to take all for-profit insurance companies and legislate them out of existence. Let the risks be shared across the country for whatever catastrophic weather events may cause damage of mega-proportions. There's not any part of the country that's totally immune to floods or tornados or hurricanes or wild fires or earthquakes or landslides or drought or whatever.

It probably wouldn't be ideal, and would likely increase rates as well. Yet we wouldn't be held hostage to companies whose main reason for existence is not repairing damage but making sure their shareholders reap profits. Of course, this isn't going to happen any time in the near future, if ever, and there would probably be as many glitches and angering experiences as one might expect in dealing with another bureaucracy. I just wish we could come up with a better way of sharing the risk of natural disaster without bankrupting those who try to plan ahead for when disaster occurs.

State of Health

I just got back today from a meeting where various state organizing groups were discussing what impact they had had on their local healthcare systems, and what action they might take to further "fix" our terribly broken system.

For the most part, these are groups that have been at it for several years and, while significant in their own way, have pretty much been successful at making only miniscule changes to the system: managing to get local governments to raise the threshhold of "indigent" from 21% of the federal poverty level to 25% of that level (mind you - that's the equivalent of working for 7 hours at minimum wage/week), raising awareness of how local governmental entities will "sluff off" their indigent care responsibilities onto other agencies, that kind of thing.

We heard stories of how varying segments of the healthcare system, through willful neglect or ignorance or just plain idiocy, caused harm to those present, their family members, friends, or others they had contact with. The stories are powerful witnesses to just how broken the system is: those with no insurance paying the "full" cost of care (that amount that medical care providers have to charge in order to receive adequate reimbursement from insurance companies or governmental entities), care denied for a breast tumor the size of a golf ball because "it wasn't an emergency" and then reaming out the patient because she didn't come in sooner for treatment once it had finally reached the size of a peach and then denying the prescribed chemotherapy/radiation treatment because, once again, her condition "was not life threatening", medical doctors in various specialties refusing to participate in government sponsored programs for indigent care because reimbursement rates didn't even begin to cover the costs (occasionally that excuse sounds like a base cannard, but when you start figuring in all of the costs of staffing and equipment, sometimes it's legit), paperwork and bureaucratic red tape causing children to be dropped from programs they qualify for and then taking too long to rectify the problems (Texas has been struggling with some vast red tape problems), and on and on.

I truly admire those people who can organize groups and write-in campaigns and work the system in such a way that politicians and appropriate executives are embarrassed into making things right for large numbers of people. I realize that I'm not one of them. My strong suit is more along the lines of agitating in the background, poking and prodding at things and lifting up the stuff that gets missed. For example, one of the things I noticed at the meeting was a lack of representation of those affected by various disabilities. Don't you think they might be prime candidates for advocating for adequate healthcare for all? But I digress ...

I think it's fairly obvious that our healthcare system is broken. My mom's biggest fear is that healthcare will be rationed if we convert to some kind of universal healthcare system. It continues to bug me that I'm not able to convince my own mom that rationing is already taking place. It's just that we ration according to one's ability to pay. At which point I cry "Not fair! Not fair!" Yet she worries incessantly if one of her kids or grandkids is in a position where they don't have health insurance. *shakes head*

The one thing this meeting convinced me of is that the system is quite broken. Oh! I knew that, but hadn't seen all of the pieces together at one time. How can we fix it? Lord, I don't know! But I'm not convinced that the only way to fix it is piecemeal with one portion of this huge state getting a concession here and another getting a concession there. It seems to me that if enough people put their heads and their petitions and their voices together, comprehensive change could become a possibility.

The one thing they said over and over at this meeting was that local people have power. What if we all began a campaign to push and prod our elected officials to change the system for the good, regardless of who's lobbying for what? You get enough people on the bandwagon, the number of votes might cancel out the effect of the lobbying dollars lurking in the shadows. I wonder what it would take to start a national initiative for a change in the state of our health. Any suggestions?

Riddle Me This

I realize I haven't posted in a while. Poor blog! The creative juices have been focused in other areas recently.

But this just plain begs for some kind of comment. I finally got around to reading the Houston Chronicle front page. Below the fold, there's a man standing on the hood of his vehicle using a cellphone. OK - slightly odd, but not totally beyond the realm of possibility.

His vehicle is halfway submerged in flood waters and he's a good football field length away from solid ground!

Why on earth would anyone drive around a barricade to drive through water that's obviously more than a couple of inches deep?

Does this person NEVER watch tv and has he NEVER seen vehicles floating downstream on even relatively small amounts of water over the road? This kind of thing just totally bamboozles me! What the heck was he thinking? I sincerely hope that the government rescue units that were required to get this idiot back to solid ground have a way to charge him an arm and a leg for his stupidity. Perhaps that, plus the major expense of repairing his vehicle (if the darned thing doesn't end up floating away downstream and getting destroyed in the process), might make him think twice before trying that stunt again.

Feed the Hungry

Improve your vocabulary while helping to feed the hungry. There's a website where you test your vocabulary and for each word you get correct, you donate 20 grains of rice through the United Nations to help end world hunger.

This site is insidious and educational. Yesterday over 91 million grains were donated. This is a program that apparently started in October and has already given more than 17 billion (yes, that billion with a b)grains.

Hey! Why not take a few minutes out of your day, improve your wordpower, and help the world? Seems like a good plan to me!

Betrayal of a Meltdown

To be clear up-front - Britney Spears generally isn't high on my news radar and I don't particularly intend to make any change in that position. However, as I was scanning the papers this morning I noticed the articles about her stay at the psychiatric hospital being extended for an additional 14 days. What caught my eye was the phrase "according to a source who asked to remain anonymous because they were not authorized to release the information" (or something like that - I don't have it in front of me right now).

Excuse me! I sincerely hope the hospital tracks down that leak and fires their sorry ass ASAP!!

It's obvious the poor woman's life has spiraled out of control and she's in need of help. But if her name had been Jane Doe or Jack Roe or any other essentially anonymous person, no one at the hospital would have even acknowledged that a person of such a name even existed.

It's hard enough to undergo psychiatric treatment without having every glance, shrug, sigh, tear, or tirade plastered across the world-wide media. Then to have some lowlife who wants a little bit of "secret" notoriety, to be able to snicker behind their hand to themselves that they were the one to expose the poor woman at her worst, blab that more help is needed (as if that wasn't obvious) ... well, isn't it called "piling on" in football?

It's safe to say that the longer I type, the angrier I'm getting. What this person has done is actually a prosecuteable crime, one which rarely is followed through on, but definitely should be. If there were clear consequences for the perpetrators, it would be less likely to happen when someone with a famous name is involved.

It wouldn't surprise me that somewhere in the addled brains of those who need help, especially celebrities, there's this truly skewed desire to completely melt down in public rather than risk someone revealing the secret psyche that must be revealed in order for healing to happen. I'll acknowledge that sometimes it's the visible meltdown that leads to getting essential help; however, once there ... LEAVE THEM THEIR PRIVACY!!!!! The broken trust perpetuated by the person who blabbed, and the media who chose to share the news, is often what keeps celebrities and non-celebrities from getting the psychiatric help they need.

I also admit that there are much more significant problems in the world today that need to be addressed. Yet there are so many people who could legitimately benefit from counseling and treatment, who might be among those who would harm themselves and others, who might even be open to addressing their psychological issues, if they were reasonably certain that their lives would not be bared to the entire world. Perhaps if we were able to address some of these issues in the confines of a counselor's office or a treatment center, some of the violence and hatred and inhumanity to others could be eliminated and our society as a whole become a more wholesome experience.

Recovery Con't.

They finally got around to it. Two and a half years after Her Horribleness roared through the area, and I'm not sure quite how long it's been since the federal government allocated the buckos, the state is finally - get this - getting ready to accept applications for local residents to apply for funding to repair their homes. They haven't quite finalized the criteria and what the grants will be, but are expected to start the process around the first of February.

Mind you - the buckos won't actually be available until around September. THREE YEARS after the devastation. The funding is for the low income, elderly, and disabled families in the area, those without resources of their own or insurance to repair their broken homes.

During this time, non-profits have been doing their best to help these families, and some 1600 homes have been repaired. For some of these homes, repairs were begun, but not yet completed, due to sufficient resources not being available.

There was actually a first round of funding which apparently only repaired 13 homes in the year since the funds were released. Ridiculous! The way the contract was written, it has become more feasible for the contractors to declare the cost of rehabilitation as being too prohibitive, so demolition and replacement became the modus operandi.

In one case, the local non-profits had already spent $13,000 toward repair of the home, and the contractors deemed it beyond hope, demolished it, and are building a replacement. Giving the contractors the benefit of the doubt, it may have been an appropriate decision. However, no one even checked to see if any repair work had been done on the home or to see if alternatives might have salvaged the $13,000 already spent on this home. As it stands (or doesn't), that's $13,000 which could have been allocated elsewhere. *very deep sigh*

For this round of funding, the state is currently allowing a maximum of $25,000 in repairs before deeming the house unsalvagable and tossing it to the contractors to demolish and replace. Sorry, but any house sitting with significant hurricane damage repairs for over two years will require more than $25,000 in repair. However, it may still be possible to repair the home for less than the cost of demolition and replacement.

Which would be the wiser use of what are admittedly limited resources? Repair of homes which may be possible through a combination of funding, donated resources, and volunteer labor at less than replacement cost or destroying and replacing homes? It seems to me that before completely writing off the possibility of repair that repair shuld be the FIRST option, especially if it frees up resources for additional families in the area.

Another aspect of repair over replacement, when possible, is the psychological boost that such a choice could provide. I've gone through all sorts of interesting responses to this situation while my home was being repaired. However, being back in my own home has been a triumph over the devastation that Hurricane Rita wreaked in my life. We've battled back to wholeness, the house and I. There's something empowering in that accomplishment.

I don't think that watching my house being razed and then starting over would have quite the same effect. Could be wrong, though, especially if I were the one to decide on what the replacement house would be like (within limits, of course).

That won't be true for these families whose homes will be demolished and replaced. Those decisions will be completely out of their hands. These are people who have already experienced a huge chunk of their lives being taken out of their hands by Her Horribleness, then living in limbo for over two years. Can you imagine how devastating it could be for some anonymous contractor coming in, declaring your best and most valuable asset hopeless, then telling you that the decisions regarding your future home is in some anonymous else's hands?

So much good could be accomplished with these recovery funds. I hope that it comes to pass ... but I'm not counting on it.

Mush for Brains Season

It's that time of year again. Allergy season. Bleah!

Almost every year about this time, as the weather vacillates between almost spring and maybe winter, my sinuses gripe, grouse, and complain. First, they get really busy and my head stuffs up. Thinking is much like trying to bat my way through piles of cotton and wool. It's a frustrating feeling to know that there's a thought or idea rumbling around in there and not be able to catch up with it. Mush for brains, part 1.

Sometimes it's possible to short-circuit the whole process and divert the sinus machine from its task. Not this time. When you get to the point where a head-ectomy seems like a wonderful idea, it's time to bring in the pros.

I go to a wonderful doctor who is great at helping me fight off the periodic infections that send me into mush-for-brains-land. This year has been especially bad and the usual medications haven't kicked those bugs out of my system. This time he's had to add a different antihistamine/cough suppressant to the bug-killer cocktail. It's helping, but is one of those that produces a brain fog, so driving and thinking while using it is not a good plan. Mush for brains, part 2.

I'll be so glad when Mush for Brains Season is over. If it's ever over in this neck of the woods. *sigh*

The Magical Mystery of Appliances

What is it about appliances?

After the enforced idleness of two years of waiting to be used after Her Horribleness blew through and wreaked havoc, I had to replace my washer, dryer, and dishwasher. New equipment was purchased and duly installed by the appropriate installer persons. Upon installation, all worked to factory specifications. Well, that is, all except the gas dryer which required a somewhat unique fitting that the installer person didn't have, since I was switching back to the updated (by a licensed plumber) gas connection.

While getting the house back to liveable condition, I washed all of the dishes in the dishwasher. And washed. And washed. And washed. And washed. .... Okay, the stupid thing got stuck on the wash cycle and wouldn't go to dry. Let's get real! It doesn't take over two hours for a load of dishes that needs only light cleaning to go through the whole cycle. It's under warranty, so I call out the repairperson, who comes the day after Hurricane Humberto hit town and we're without power. Apparently, having the repairperson park in the driveway of the house was sufficient. It now works perfectly.

Next on the sick list was the dryer. It dried. And dried. And dried. And dried. ... Yeah, I know! This is becoming a habit. Three hours for a gas dryer to dry a relatively small load is highly unusual. It's under warranty. Call repairperson. This time the guy made it into the house. Turns out that several centuries of lint was stuck in the exterior vent. (I'd had the foresight to completely replace the flexible part.) Gas dryers have a safety that won't let it heat up too much if the lint thingy isn't working exactly right. Remove lint. Machine works perfectly. (I'll admit - this repair call was actually legitimate and a cry for help by the dryer.)

THEN, the washer decides to go on the fritz. Clonk. Clonk. Clonk. Shoot! The person on the repair line even heard the beastie making its annoying metallic sound. The repairperson arrives at the house this morning, turns on the machine, and ... You've guessed it! NOTHING!! Not a single abnormal sound to be heard. It's working perfectly at the moment.

What is it about appliances? (and copiers and computers ...) Sometimes it seems as though they simply want someone who understands them to come by and hold their hands. The microwave and stove came with the house, and the stove has been having conversations with my handyperson friend. I suspect we'll finally get that thermostat problem fixed one of these days.

My refrigerator is old enough to have settled into the routine and hasn't required the tender ministrations of a repairperson since the first couple of years I owned it. I'm afraid it may get jealous and decide to act up! Shhhhhhhh! Don't let it know that I'm seeing the repairperson!