Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Where the Wind Blows...



My hubby just returned from the Moore Oklahoma area. 

This picture is of a survivor. One site that they cleared had dozens of bouncy balls scattered amidst the debris. 

He brought one home to remind us of the blessings we so often take for granted. 

Our home, the forever work-in-progress stands. Our health, though we feel the creaks of middle age, is good. Our family, though imperfect in all it's glory, is family and easily touched during our busy days and nights scurrying around trying to get things done. 

A portion of the affected area in Oklahoma is called the land of the Forgotten Tornado. Much of what my husband and his co-workers did was clean up in areas hit by a tornado the night before the one that rocked the news waves. 

The first day our church group worked hit 105 on the temperature gauge. And each day thereafter didn't drop below 90. The work was overwhelming. Hundreds of people scrambled around site after site, hauling, moving, sorting. Our team wondered about the difference they were making in the miles and miles and miles of broken dreams and homes. They reminded each other that they were making a difference to that one family. 

The work is in such early stages that they would tackle a huge pile of broken lives and sort them into four smaller piles by the roadside so those items could be disposed of properly. 

Every victim's entire household was able to be sorted into brick/concrete, wood, metal or miscellaneous trash. Very few items were intact enough to be placed into a container for rescued treasures. Our team found a few pictures and some kitchen items. And a whole bunch of bouncy balls that came from who knows where and saw who knows what while they rode the angry wind currents. 

My prayers go out on behalf of these victims who've lost the physicality of what was their lives, and to those in Colorado, and even more so for those touched by the deaths in the various tragedies that seem to crop up way too often and way too close together. 

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ When I'm 85...

Some of my patients crack me up.

Elderly does not mean demented or grumpy, drooly or frumpy.

I actually believe that some of my older patients are some of the most entertaining people I encounter. One little lady flounces in and looks like a million bucks. Seriously, I wish I had her style. Nothing she wears says grandma-wear, let alone great-grandma-wear.

Yesterday, I had a nice conversation with a octogenarian while we were waiting for a room to open up. I asked her about her summer plans. She smiled and said she was going to be in the area most of the summer. She babysits her great grandchildren every once in awhile. I asked about that, told her that I thought that could be kind of challenging. She laughed and she told me that her great grandkids don't come over that often, that she's kind of a last resort. I asked why. She said she'd spent years as a principal in a school and that was back in the day when a stern look or the threat of calling a parent whipped a kid right back into shape. "I'm kind of no nonsense." Then she laughed in the most delightful way and her eyes lit up.

"People asked me why I was a principal so long. and I told them I just loved it." Her eyes twinkled. "Every day was different and I never knew what to expect."  She laughed. "Those kids. So inventive and creative."

And that is what I want to be like when I'm 85. Loving people, thinking that folks are a real kick, worth a little corrective action when necessary, and creative. With a twinkle in my eye and a quick sense of humor.



 

Monday, June 17, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Inspiring



My pastor played this video Sunday. I, of course, cried through it. I've seen the story before. And it's so inspiring. To me it is such a picture of a God who loves us. 

Friday, June 14, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ B and B for Cats...

Random flower bush thingy growing in the woods at the edge of my yard. No idea what it is but it's pretty. 

And. H.C. aka Harold Crick, aka the "new" cat is no longer hanging around. 

I think he may have been passing through. I have a feeling our porch was advertised on Airbnb. I haven't been compensated. But, I did provide a bed and breakfast and a light dinner several nights. Also friendly interaction. So I'm expecting great reviews. I think he must have been in town for the art fair last weekend. 

Or. Oh no. Maybe he was scouting things out for College World Series which starts this weekend. I better look for my listing on airpetbnb. I want to see what I'm offering. I only picked up dry food today. 

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Proof Positive

Spent the afternoon at the organic farm. This year she added strawberry plants.  

As we were picking the luscious beauties I decided that strawberries might very well be evidence that there is a Creator God Who loves us very much. 

organic Iowan grown strawberries and sugar snap peas


Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Settling in and Slither no More...

H.C. or D-MEC or Ono
Our friendly little porch kitty is still just that. He sleeps in a laundry basket, curled up on a towel. Then every afternoon when the sun shines directly on the porch he finds somewhere to go where it's cooler. Then he comes back for dinner. So very friendly.

Apparently, I have a new cat. I've decided that since our indoor cat is named Feral Will, that we should think along the Will Ferrel path for a name. I think I'll call him H.C. for Harold Crick. Stranger than Fiction. Which, if you have not seen it, you really should. Such a good movie. I digress.

I did think of a couple more names. D-MEC. Don't Make Eye Contact and Ono as in oh no!
Feral Will...not amused.

We'll see. I'm wondering if someone is missing him.

And our church Facebook is posting pictures of the Moore clean up project. In the batch is one of my husband holding a dead snake. A dead Copperhead.

Not enough words or exclamation points. Ya know?! (Be glad I didn't include that picture!)

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Drifting

Since my mom was concerned about my moment of melancholy...someone else might be, too.  It was just a small dark cloud that only left behind a poem...



Darkness sighs at 2:00 a.m.
Tendrils of sulphur tinted sorrow waft over me.

I sink further into my slumber

Midnight velvet weeps. Witching hour past.
Ebony shards, shattered slivers of brittle coal tears

I toss and dream

Lightless eternity shrieks at 3:45.
Moans scented of hopeless decay.

Ghouls shimmy, unseen, behind the curtain of life.

Senses, skin alert, I awaken. Startled. And drift, dazed, into blessedly dreamless sleep.

Shadows, sorrow, fear play hide and seek in my mind 

Night clutches. Holding me until it's grip weakens. One spindly finger at a time, ground lost until it's grasp slips into gray. 

And then the sun.