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!

A New Year Already?

2008 snuck up on me. It can't be 2008 already!! I mean, it's still just a couple of days past Christmas, right? Right? ... Not right?? Rats!

It's not like I really want it to still be 2007. Much of 2007 was spent longing to be back in my own home, a mission now accomplished. Guess I'm busy "should-ing" on myself, and that's a pasttime worthy of being left behind. "Should-ing" will only bang your head against a brick wall of futility, especially when it comes to the things one "should have done" last year!

While there are only about 6 somewhat little things to be accomplished before the mortgage inspector's happy with the tasks completed and willing to let go of the last umpty-1,000 of the insurance money, they require skills and abilities I just don't have. Well, I can paint, and probably will when the exterior conditions coincide with free time to accomplish said painting. I'm also hoping to enlist the slave labor of my son for the painting task, which may or may not be an exercise in futility.

Today is a totally beautiful day - bright blue skies, sun shining gloriously! But it doesn't look like the temperature is going to be above about 50, and the internet paint gurus strongly recommend that the temperature be above 60 if you're going to paint outside. *sigh* The Weather Channel seems to suggest that THAT might happen on the weekend ...

...


...


wait for it ...

when it's supposed to rain! So much for the weather cooperating on getting the painting done.

*very deep sigh*

Some day the confluence of weather, working conditions, and volunteer slave labor will be perfect for the completion of the tasks. I'm hoping it's soon. It'd be really wonderful for the new year to see the completion of all the house repair tasks related to Her Horribleness. I have plans for a House Blessing this year, but I'm not a-gonna do it until I can include a "Goodbye" to all of the hurricane scars on my house.

Perhaps that'll help with healing the hurricane scars in my soul.

I'll Be Home for Christmas ...

...not only in my dreams!

Somehow, being back in my own home this year is truly making this year a special Christmas. Not perfect, mind you, but special in a comforting sort of way.

I've always enjoyed the Christmas Eve service, and the same held true tonight. Part of what I enjoy is that, as pastor, it's a "low maintenance" worship service. There's no sermon or meditation to prepare, just Scriptures and hymns to choose and the standard Communion liturgy to prepare.

There's something incredibly appropriate about this service being so simple. There is simplicity amidst glory in the birth narratives. So, I like to let the whole service bask in the simplicity of members doing the readings and the congregation singing the Christmas hymns. This year, we even ended up doing the service a capella, since our accompanist had to work this evening. There are plenty of strong voices in the congregation, so it went well.

There are always the unexpected glitches that make things special, too. When it came time to serve Communion, we had four elders come to the front and we only needed two. How beautiful that all of them wanted to participate! One of our youth dropped his piece of bread before it was dipped in the juice. So, he reached down, picked it up, blew on it, and dipped ... to chuckles throughout the sanctuary.

One of our members got a brand new puppy for Christmas. She snuck her into the service in a large handbag, and she behaved so well. I think I only heard something out of the pup once. One of our church matriarchs made it to the worship service tonight. She doesn't get around very well, or hear very well, but there was no way she was going to sit in her seat and have Communion brought to her! So, with help, she made it up to the front (after grousing quite loudly that she wasn't going to wait). *smile*

And, then we sang Silent Night as the candles were lit, to the accompaniment of a guitar. Beautiful! Simple! Uplifting!

So, now I'm home. Enjoying the moment and looking forward to tomorrow, 'cuz I'll be home for Christmas this year ... and it's certainly not a dream!

Merry Christmas, Everyone!!

Community

Community comes in all shapes and sizes. Usually, I feel community most where I live or with people I've met in real life; although, I admit that I have one or two "second generation" friends (friends I've never met face-to-face, but are good friends of face-to-face friends and we've built our friendship over the internet).

Right now, though, I'm in the midst of an interesting international experience of community. For the past year and a half, I have regularly participated in the conversations of a bulletin board with a group of people who share some common interests, and even met three of them in real life. This is a group of caring, intelligent people who have a wide interest in the world around them and each other. We've gotten to know each other through our conversations, controversies, and the varying life experiences shared on the boards.

One of the members is currently anticipating the birth of her first child. We've followed the pregnancy over the past months and are now awaiting the imminent arrival of the youngster. The youngster is two weeks overdue and, while not in immediate difficulty, is at the edges of potential distress. Mom and Dad have decided to go ahead and let the doctor induce birth, entering the hospital yesterday.

As we all wait on pins and needles, our international community has been posting in the appropriate thread just like a group of close friends waiting at the hospital for someone to pop their head out the door and announce the arrival. Some have offered various snack foods, to head over to the local take-out and bring something back, shared how uncomfortable the waiting room chairs are, even heading into that punch-drunk waiting room silliness which occurs after 24 hours of waiting.

In the midst of all of this, I get the sense of actually being a part of the process, just like I was there in the Netherlands waiting with grandparents and friends. It's something like this which brings home to me that my world has gotten both smaller and larger at the same time. Smaller in the sense that even someone across an ocean is a part of my life and larger in the sense that my world now spans around the globe instead of, mostly, within the span of a few hundred miles at most.

Excuse me. Is anyone going to eat that piece of cold pizza? I think maybe it's time for a walk up and down the halls, 'cuz these chairs have given me a horrible crick in my neck. Come and get me if anything happens! Come on, little one! We're looking forward to meeting you!

Loss and Loss

Just got back from a meeting that left me feeling a bit angry and sad.

Today our presbytery met to enact the next set of procedures to deal with a congregation that has decided to leave the Presbyterian Church (USA). The pastors and less than 60% of the membership have apparently decided that they just can no longer abide within a denomination as heretical as the PCUSA.

Here's a basic accounting of events leading up to today's meeting: In June of last year, the General Assembly accepted and approved a couple of items that set at least one of the pastor's teeth on edge. So, for the better part of a year, their Session of eleven members (plus the pastors) secretly discussed their "problem" and what to do without including the rest of the congregation. Then in October, they notified both the congregation and the presbytery that they would be taking a vote in December as to whether the congregation would seek dismissal to the Evangelical Presbyterian Church or stay in the PCUSA.

There were several (at least 4) informational meetings planned. Representatives of the presbytery were present at each meeting. Various materials were available from both the Session and the presbytery. A variety of issues were discussed. Then came the meeting where the majority present voted in favor of leaving the denomination. There was also a significant minority who voted no.

So, why am I angry and sad? Let's get the anger out first.

This is not the first congregation in the PCUSA in the past year or so that has decided to leave the denomination. I've had a 90 minute drive to do some thinking about this, and I hope I have gotten some perspective on it.

I don't think I'd have a problem with this if the entire congregation or 100% of those present and voting decided it was time to leave. If that were the case, I'd almost be inclined to say, "Let them keep their property and go." In that situation, it would seem that God is indeed calling that group of Christians into another denominational relationship. The same group of people who have given their lives, money, blood, sweat, and tears would be the ones who had discerned and affirmed that call. No one would feel abandoned or betrayed by such a decision.

However, that's not the case here. For this congregation, Pastor Johnny/Joany-on-the-Spot accepts a call to serve, works with the congregation, and then decides that there's something fishy about the denomination and s/he can't stay. But wait! There's this group of people who've called me to work with them. It's a ready made group to support me, if we can all just leave together. Oh! And icing on the cake, we can just take our property with us. VOILA! In just a few easy steps, we have a new relationship with a new denomination and can all bow down to the theology-of-ME.

What gets forgotten is that Pastor Johnny/Joany-on-the-Spot wasn't there in the beginning when the presbytery began the church, wasn't a part of putting together a congregation or procuring a building, didn't walk hand-in-hand as this congregation started from nothing and gave blood, sweat, tears, finances and faith to the establishing of this thriving congregation.

Admittedly, at the time this congregation began, the PCUSA didn't exist. However, the current pastor also wasn't present when this congregation made a conscious decision to become a part of the PCUSA when it did come into being. Part of what infuriates me is the blithe discarding of those who are committed to remaining a part of this denomination. This is a fairly young church, and some of those who are against the change are charter members. Even if this was an older church where the charter members are all in their graves (and their souls before us in the Kingdom), I would still be loath to discount the desires of those who wish to stay in the denomination.

Look - I don't have a problem with the pastor deciding to leave based on what s/he has discerned as heresy. I don't even have a problem with those who believe that the pastor is correct leaving as well. What I do have a problem with is the expectation that the property, a tangible part of the heritage of the congregation's hard work, is a part of the package.

If you feel that you can't stay within the denomination, fine! But then, also do the hard work of starting from scratch that the original members did as they brought the congregation into being. Let those who still want to remain in the denomination keep what they've worked for and move forward. Remember, it was the denomination which brought the congregation into being in the first place, and worked with it to help provide a facility for it to grow. You wouldn't be where you are today without the denomination. No one should be able to effectively "steal" a congregation just because they have a problem with the denomination. I'm still puzzled as to why it's not possible to stay in the denomination and work to change things, but then that's another rant.

I hope you can see why I'm sad. I feel great sorrow for those who are in the position of losing so much. Even if the property stays within the presbytery for those who voted against the decision to leave, they will have lost much. This kind of situation involves division of friends, perhaps family, loss of relationship and trust, a sense of betrayal, anger, hurt, disappointment in self, abandonment, just so much pain. I feel great sorrow for those who are leaving, as well. They too will be losing much, even if they don't realize it at the moment.

*very deep sigh* Why, oh why, do we inflict such pain upon one another?

It's Beginning to Look ...

Two years and two and a half months after Her Horribleness roared through town I'm finally decorating my own house for Christmas!

My son and I decorated the tree this evening. It took two trips to the store to get enough lights to replace the ones that didn't survive effectively three years of non-use. It's been a blessing to see my old friends - the ornaments that have been a part of my family story.

Many of them are ornaments my mom gave me and my son each year, a history of interests and, for my son, growing older. Others are part of our family tradition of choosing a box of new ornaments for the tree, which developed after my divorce and the loss of many of the ornaments we already had. Then there are those that are special gifts: the cardinal ornament from when I was director of Baby Redbird Day school, the nativity scene in the pale blue "egg" given to me by a beloved friend, the baby picture ornament made by my aunt, the stuffed cloth angel made by a co-worker, and all of the others.

They've been in hiding for such a long time. It's wonderful to see them again!

The Christmas boots (yes - Texas boots made of red and green felt) are hung, not by the chimney (no chimney in this house), but on the wall in the main family area. The ceramic Christmas tree that's lit by an interior light bulb and plays a Christmas carol is in its traditional place on the table in the living room. My three nativity scenes now reside in places of honor.

I have a few things that I haven't quite figured out where they belong now that some of their resting places have changed. And I still have to drape the bazillion miles of tinsel garland that in the past I've draped in the ironwork kitsch in the entryway. I just didn't feel like working with my arms over my head this evening.

Finally, I have a mystery to solve. In one box, I found the exterior light strands - 4 sets of large outdoor lights that run along the eave of the front of the house in the clips I put up when I first moved into the house. AND there are three strands of slightly smaller outdoor lights. *scratches head* Now where the heck did I put those up in the past? I haven't the foggiest idea. Any suggestions?

End of an Era

[Aside - Didn't realize it'd been so long since I'd posted! Gee, it's been busy around here ... but I'm not really sure what's actually been accomplished. *chuckle*]

Read in the paper today that Ma Bell is eliminating pay phone service. Cellphones and other technology have apparently chopped into the profits significantly, so it's time to ditch the critters and move on.

True, people are constantly yakking on their ubiquitous handy-dandy cells, or wandering around talking to the air while their bluetooth gizmos funnel the conversation directly to their brains without hand or mouth being involved. Shoot! I have a cellphone. Used the darn thing as my main phone for two years while my house was getting fixed. It eliminated a lot of problems concerning changing my main phone number on the bazillion things I would have had to change it on.

Still ... I can't help but think that getting rid of pay phones completely is not such a good idea at this point. There continue to be way too many places where cellphone coverage just plain drops off the map, literally, even places where my skewed logic says the stupid thing still oughta work. I still have a "dead spot" near Baytown when I head to Houston. It's shorter than it used to be, but Hey! Shouldn't the flat land between Beaumont and Houston carry those signals further than if they had mountains or hills to snake around, over, and through?

Unfortunately, I do see Ma Bell's point. I wonder how much gets spent repairing vandalized phones. *sigh* Don't people realize that sometimes those pay phones are a lifeline for someone in a difficult or dangerous situation? There continues to be a public service need for this "antiquated" equipment. I'll have to admit, though, that I'm rarely caught with the two quarters it now costs to call anyone on the old landlines, even though I am Luddite enough to insist upon having a landline in my home. There are, occasionally, advantages to using older technology.

Still, I wonder what our future youth will say when they encounter old comics of Superman changing into his Supersuit in a phone booth. Though I always thought that was a dumb place to change clothes even before phone booths turned into three-sided half-boxes.

Ah...I think we've about reached the end of an era.

GiveThanksing

In the cartoon PreTeena, oddly quirky friend Stick has started a campaign to change the name of our November holiday from Thanksgiving to Givethanksing. Since "thanks" doesn't do the giving and since we're supposed to "give thanks" to God and to others, the reversed name is a much more accurate description, according to Stick's theory.

She's got a point.

So ... some "Givethanksging":

-- Family around to share it with. My son is home and Mom came over for the night. And, if it hadn't been that there was family around, I have "family" in the broader sense: people who would have welcomed me into their homes for Thanksgiving dinner.

-- Finally being home! Even with the work that needs to be finished, it is wonderful to be back in my own home. Yet it reminds me of those whose homes are still unfinished and who may not have homes to return to. To have a roof over one's head is something to be thankful for. And, during these past two years, I had generous and wonderful people who provided that roof while mine was being repaired. Something else to be extremely thankful for.

-- My elderly, yet often puppy-ish, canine pal. She's such a scaredy-cat when thunderstorms come through; however, she's quite ferocious when someone's on the other side of the front door. The past couple of days she's been pretty "windy", but that hasn't affected her playing with my son or chasing squirrels. I hope it's just a transient affliction and not a sign of something more. I've had her for 12 years! Never would have believed I'd have such a loving critter-friend in my life for so long.

-- A great congregation! Yes, there are challenges, but without challenges, our faith would not be stretched and strengthened and given a chance to grow. These are truly wonderful people who have not turned their thoughts inward. Helping others is what they are about.

-- Friends, in real life and online. They are a lifeline when things feel bleak and someone to share rejoicing with when things are uplifting.

I'm going to stop there, but the blessings in my life could go on and on. And for each of these blessings, I give thanks to God, the Creator; Christ, the Redeemer; and Spirit, the Sustainer. Their presence has helped me to become the person I am today, and continues to encourage me to grow even beyond that.

The Me I am right now would have been an impossible goal for the Me I was 20 years ago. The journey became possible through God's unconditional love shown in ways I never expected. I hope that I live my life in such a way that expresses my thanks daily.

I hope that your lives are touched with many blessings and hope for the future.

HAPPY GIVETHANKSING ONE AND ALL!!

How Absurd!

An AP article in today's paper reports that a developer in Arizona is planning a water park in the desert where people can surf and scuba and do other water stuff.

This while significant portions of the middle east coast are under drought conditions and some places are looking at the water supply literally drying up to nothingness. Pictures of lakebeds with cracked bottoms and only small puddles of water are heart-wrenching.

Wouldn't a better use of that water be to aid those who are suffering?

So what if surfers have to travel farther to get to the surf! They have to do that now, as it is.

*sigh* What a waste of resources!

Just Plain Reee-diculous!

It's been over two years. Believe it or not, mucho (in my humble opinion) federal buckos were allocated and actually sent to the state of Texas, where it's been languishing in some state coffer while state bureaucrats whine and moan and groan that $500 million isn't enough money. Reeeeeee-diculous!

Since the money arrived in the state ONLY THIRTEEN families have had their homes repaired. And people have been bitching about the way that federal monies have been spent in Louisiana? Shoot ... Louisiana has managed to spend much more than Texas has in the same two year period.

According to the article in the Houston Chronicle, 4,000 families had applied for the assistance, and my guess is that, for the most part, they are probably among the neediest of the needy. True, there's always a huckster around to manipulate the system, but there's just no excuse for that $500 million to be lolling around while so many people are living in homes with blue-tarped roofs and damage which is only getting worse with each rainstorm that comes through town. Damage which could have been healed at a fairly minimum now has become major renovation for many of those who've waited this long for repairs.

What is their problem? Sure, I want to make sure that it goes to legitimate recovery projects. But do they have to reinvent the wheel themselves?! There are organizations in the area whose reason for being is to ensure that the neediest are the ones who reap the benefit of the limited money that has been released for hurricane repair. They already have lists with priorities and ways to maximize the funds which are received through volunteer labor and donated or low-cost materials to help along the way.

Is there some kind of invisible restriction which requires that the funds be spent to pay contractors, and only contractors, to complete the work? Shouldn't the state be working with local programs to make the most of the money we have received? Why just sit and moan and groan that "we didn't get the kind of money that other states did", when what we have could be actually HELPING AND HEALING families?

To only allow a trickle of funds to be released when at least a small spate is available is absolutely unconscionable!

I'd suggest that we get some buses and cars together, fill them up with people whose homes need repairs from Hurricane Rita, and caravan to Austin to camp out on the Capitol steps. But wait! These people have already been "camping out" for over two years! Maybe instead, we ought to make plans to show up on the doorstep of Michael Gerber, executive director of the Texas Housing and Community Affairs, come Thanksgiving morning. I wonder if something would happen if suddenly 4,000 displaced families became real people instead of numbers on a page.

Nah! With this crew in charge?! Probably not!

It Passed! Now Comes the Hard Part

Well, bless my soul! The BISD school bond issue was actually approved. As I said downstream, it's not perfect, but there was so much that was necessary that I felt it was important to support it.

There's been a lot of bitching about the football stadium/natatorium. I can't see anything but good coming to Beaumont as a result of all of the district's schools using the same facility for sports and other competitions that need similar arenas. I lived here in the 70's-80's before all of the school consolidations were finished. There was incredible dissension in the community, much of it due to the rampant racism AND classism that existed then. True, it still exists today, but isn't anywhere near as virulent as it was back then. Sharing a sports facility can only help to eliminate further the niggling in the background suspicion that one school has better "x" than another, for whatever reason.

Pasadena Independent School District has shared a common football stadium since long before I was in public schools. There were four schools sharing the facility when I was in high school. Now there are five. Problems with that? None that I'm aware of; however, I can only imagine scheduling got a bit more difficult when they added that fifth school three years ago. Scheduling certainly wasn't a problem for the previous years with four schools, and BISD only has three high schools at the moment. (A fourth is planned for the future.)

The other thing people are bitching about is its being built in the first stage. The thing people forget is that the sports complex isn't the only thing being built in the first stage. Sheesh! Talk about tunnel vision!

So ... now comes the hard part.

There was honest disagreement with the bond issue, and valid points of concern were raised. Here's what I hope will happen (not counting on it, though, people being the cantankerous critters they are):

Several of those who were vocally against the proposal have offered to help bring things into being if it passed. For those of you whose noses have gotten out of joint over the opposition (both past and present), pop them back in place and let the opponents have a stake in bringing this new vision of the future into being. Sure, they may operate as roadblocks instead of bridge-builders. But sometimes we need someone to stand in the road and say "Wait a minute! There's a better way!"

And to the opponents, it's wonderful of you to ask questions and poke harder into making things the absolute best they can be for our students, present and future. Just don't use that as an excuse to subtly sabotage the good which can come from fulfilling the promise of this bond proposal.

There are those out there who have a legitimate gripe that they were left out of the initial process. LET THEM IN! And not just in token numbers. Look at the demographics of the community and make sure that each racial/ethnic group is represented in a proportionate basis.

We all have a stake in making sure the promise of this bond proposal comes into being, the promise of a community which may finally begin mending the brokenness of past injustice and providing for all of our young people an education in equitable facilities.

I don't deny that we've a long way to go. BISD has many obstacles besides facilities to overcome. However, the fact that we've taken action on the first thing gives me hope that our community may come together to tackle the others. Prayers arising that this might be so!

Being Visible

Given a choice, I'd much rather be there in the background than up front where everyone can see me. Ironic, isn't it? Especially since I'm a pastor. It's part of the job description to be where you can be seen.

Within our denomination, I've gotten a bit better at standing up for things I believe and making myself heard on particular issues. Still, I prefer to do it in small group settings. Speaking before hundreds of people continues to make my knees knock together in fear, but it's not the total impossibility it would have been 15 years ago.

Recently, I found myself involved in the local school bond election. Not particularly as a vocal proponent or opponent, but more in the interest of getting those on each side of the issue in the same room and talking with each other. There's something about a bond issue in this part of the country that leads to civic deafness. People seem to prefer to "Jerry Springer" their points and not particularly take the time to hear what's being said by those they disagree with.

The interfaith organization we got involved with after the hurricane decided to try something a bit different and attempt to get those involved in the bond election in the same room, with the intention of providing a forum for each to listen to the other. We held two forums this week, fairly controlled to keep grandstanding to a minimum and to avoid those in the audience who like to make speeches under the guise of "asking a question". The forums were planned to address specific issues of significance and to allow each side a limited opportunity to present their positions. Equity in the presentations was one of our objectives.

Somehow I ended up doing the welcoming and intros at each of them. Visible, but not too bad, since the number in attendance was fairly small. For me, it was an opportunity to hear concise information from both sides with only a limited amount of hype. Good fodder for decision-making. What was truly encouraging about both of these forums is that much common ground was discerned, and both sides were not only willing to admit it, but were willing to open themselves to hearing what the other had to say.

While the bond issue is not perfect and I probably would have approached several things differently if I had been a part of the process, on the balance, I find myself in support of approval. There's so much history which has been impeding the progress of the school district that much of the work which is being targeted in the bond proposal has been postponed for way too many years. To put things off longer by defeating the proposal would only make the costs great and the animosities even deeper within the community.

So, today I ended up being part of a press conference of a racially and religiously diverse Beaumont clergy in support of passing the bond proposal. Being one of two women present, I was on the first row of the "visual". (Never quite know what to do with my hands in those situations, but at least I wasn't picking my nose!)

Afterward, the camera crews were doing individual interviews. I'd done a really nice job of avoiding those until the end. One of the cameramen came up while I was talking with the head of the local Church of God in Christ (COGIC) association. Guess the visual of a male African-American pastor speaking with a Caucasian female pastor was irresistible.

Why is it when I get in front of a news camera my brain seems to shift into blubada-blubada-blubada mode? I'm not completely convinced I said anything which made any sense; however, my "this is an opportunity to move beyond the past and into the future" cliche, but truthful, statement ended up being the final sound-bite for that station's report. (We won't focus on the rest of the inanity that I'm sure surrounded those 13 words.)

Now I think I'm going to crawl back into my hole and pull it in after me. I've had enough being visible for a while!

The Dichotomy of Welcome

If you want to accomplish a task while thinking, repainting the knick-knack cabinet is not a bad thing to do. As I covered the old paint with new, I began to think about last Sunday.

On that day, instead of my usual Sunday afternoon pursuits, I accepted the invitation of the local bishop to participate in St. Anthony Cathedral's grand celebration of their 100th Anniversary and several other significant events in the life of the local Catholic church. Along with religious leaders of other denominations and faiths, I truly enjoyed the experience, especially since it is all too rare that our faith communities gather in worship, and felt welcomed to be a participant in this event.

And yet, I didn't feel welcomed.

One of the songs during the worship had to do with everyone being "welcome in this place". As I sang along, I felt the irony of not being completely welcomed into this community as a woman called by God to serve as a leader of a congregation, in effect a priest, and as a Protestant not completely welcomed into the celebration of the Lord's Supper.

There is a dichotomy of welcome.

It's a dichotomy that one is not particularly aware of until you discover that, in some respect or another, you are indeed an "outsider", not truly welcomed into complete community, not completely part of the "family". There is welcome and there is "Welcome!"

As I thought about this, I thought about our own worship services and meetings. On Thursday at our Session meeting, I unthinkingly ended our meeting as I usually do after someone makes a motion to adjourn, "All in favor, please stand and join hands in prayer." Oops! We have a person on our Session who has recently begun to have difficulty standing. Did I inadvertently exclude her by making it seem she was not in favor if adjourning? Well, yes and no. We're a small group, and everyone understood what was happening, but I certainly could have been more inclusive in my invitation.

When we celebrate Communion, we do have several people who are not members, and a couple who are Catholic, who worship with us. Our invitation to the Table is fairly open, "All who trust in the Lord are invited to the Table which He has prepared." Yet our Catholic friends honor their faith tradition and do not partake of the feast.

A guest speaker at seminary spoke of his wife's Buddhist parents attending his worship service where Communion was served. He knew that his mother-in-law probably didn't have the foggiest idea of what was happening, yet she came forward for the meal. Should he single her out and not serve her? Or should he trust that God could handle the situation and include her in this faith-meal of the community? He chose to trust God.

In the work of the governing bodies of the church, I serve on a committee whose purpose is to lift up those areas where we have been exclusive in choosing the leaders of our church. Historically, various racial/ethnic groups have been left out of leadership roles, and that is the most obvious area people think of when looking at inequity.

At various times and in a variety of ways, we have not been particularly welcoming to women, clergy or lay; youth and young adults; and those with disabilities or differently abled. Sometimes we aren't even aware that we have turned away those whose call is to serve within the smaller congregation, or who don't happen to already live conveniently within the main urban area where meetings tend to be held, or whose work and family schedules don't fit comfortably into meeting structures we've forged into place. It's all too easy to simply put things together "the way it's always been done", without realizing that perhaps we are excluding those who can't easily arrive on the leadership dais because there is no ramp and they are in a wheelchair or who don't have the necessary materials because they were provided on hardcopy but not available in a format their adaptive technology could handle. In what ways do we exclude those who don't have a handle on Robert's Rules of Order, but manage quite gracefully in a more collaborative manner?

In what ways do we say, "Welcome, but, no, you aren't truly WELCOME!?"

Gee, those are mighty deep thoughts for one rather small knick-knack shelf! But then again, maybe it isn't the size of the shelf or the thoughts that matter. Perhaps what is more important is to become aware of the dichotomy of welcome which exists in our daily and corporate lives, and learn what it means to be truly Welcoming of others. I'd think the world would be a much nicer place if we could all figure that out and then live it.

When the Dust Settles

If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't have believed it. I think I moved in almost TWO houses worth of stuff when I came back home. Another hurricane seems to have made an appearance in the past week.

My head knows that most of this stuff will end up back in my file cabinets, in my drawers, on my shelves, and back on my walls, just where it was when I "evacuated" it at varying and sundry times over the past two years. At the moment, it's sprawled all over the floors in my living room, bedroom, office, den, and hallway.

I've managed to put bits and pieces of it away. Then I get overwhelmed by the absolute MASS of it and flee the area.

Not before I've stirred up enough dust to set off a sneeze attack. ACHOO!! ACHOO!! (and so on for about 10 minutes)

Then there's the stuff that hasn't been used for two years, and has forgotten what it's supposed to do to operate. There's a bit of a chill in the air ... and the house. Seems the pilot light needs to be lit on the heater, and I'm too much of a dolt to figure out how to get into the unit to light it.

Hope reigns eternal, though.

If my handyfriend doesn't make it here this weekend, there are two or three other people who can help me out. At least it's not too cold yet.

It would also be helpful if we could manage to get the curtain rods hung, so I can put up my thermal curtains. Double paned windows cut down on the heat transfer, but they don't eliminate it. There was a bit of a chill down the back of my neck this morning. Brrrrr!

And there are other minor frustrations, as well. Guess life wouldn't be normal without them. *chuckle*

So, when the dust settles, I'm going to get things organized and then .....


IT'S OPEN HOUSE TIME!! LET'S PARTY!!