Promises, Promises

"That's a pie crust promise--easily made, easily broken."

           Mary Poppins

It is a rocky road I drive, and he has pointed that I do so too fast. This is not the first time. I wrote about it here in 2010. I promised him then I would slow down when driving on the driveway.

And I expect I did slow down, for a while. But it appears my promise was indeed a “pie crust promise.”

Although I deny driving too fast, the evidence against me is strong. I have had 2 flat tires within the past 2 months from hitting rocks at a certain spot on our driveway that are left exposed from the frequent flooding (as shown on the video on the old post) that washes away the top gravel.  This brings the tally to 3 flat tires (there was one earlier last year). Two of the tires could not be repaired.  

Fortunately, the most recent flat tire could be repaired, so the financial hit was only $12.00 rather than the cost of a new tire.

I have taken to heart the stern lecture by my beloved to keep my foot on the brake as I head down the incline from the house. I have begun creeping along ever so s-l-o-w-l-y.

He has been watching me from the window and is pleased with how well I am doing, and has told me so.

Now I just need to remember not to revert to old habits.

A Warm Moment on a Cold Day

Not too long ago my cousin in Hawaii posted a picture of herself on Facebook bundled up with a warm hat on her head and a scarf around her neck because she was cold. It was 60 degrees in her house. I did not laugh. How we feel cold is somewhat relative – what may be cold to one person is not that cold to another.

So I am not gonna say what the temperature was this morning when I left the aerobics class to go to the store for comestibles or how even colder it felt with the wind.

Bad weather over the weekend and the cold this morning prompted the school to cancel classes. There was a grandfather and two grandsons at the Y exercising, and I was not surprised when I saw another grandfather and his grandson in line behind me at the checkout.

I had 10 pounds of chicken, 5 pounds of vegetables, and some other items. The clerk asked me if I wanted help. I lift weights, so I could have carried the sacks, but I have a metal plate in my arm and it is uncomfortable sometimes.

 At first I said no, and she said are you sure, and I changed my mind and agreed that I needed help.

She called the store manager to help me, but he didn’t come and he didn’t come, and finally, Grandpa, who I expect was tired of waiting, said nodded at the boy and, “He will help you.” He didn’t argue with Grandpa, but smiled at me and picked up the heaviest of the bags and carried them out to the car. He was tall like his Grandpa, but puberty had not hit yet, so he had a soft, sweet “little boy” face, and his voice had not changed. He was sort of uncoordinated and awkward and was sort of galumphing along with my bags, smiling and not grumbling or complaining. He was precious.

It did my heart good to see a boy willing to be kind and helpful with a cheerful attitude. I wanted to go back and ask Grandpa if I could take him home, but I didn't.

'Fessing Up and the Kindness of Strangers

By Sunday morning last week, Richard got enough of the road cleared that I could walk up to the highway, and a man from church picked me up. Richard said he needed to stay home and keep working on it until it was clear enough for us to drive out.

One man from church called and offered to come with chain saws and help him, but Richard said he could manage okay.

And when I came home, he had indeed managed to get most of the last blockage cleared. This was a tree that had broken at the top and was dangling over the road, held in place by tangle of wild grape vines. After he finished cutting it down, I helped him pick up the branches and throw them off to the side.

And that left me with a dilemma. On Sunday afternoons, I spend an hour (from 2 to 3) at the nursing home visiting Bob, a man from church who is a resident. There is not much exciting going on in Bob’s life. Sometimes the visits are sort of boring, and I am not always eager to go. Last Sunday I wanted to use the excuse that the driveway was blocked or that I was too tired after helping Richard to clear it to avoid going to visit him.

Except that by 1:00, the driveway was clear, I was not tired, and I knew not to go for those reasons would be lying. So I went. As soon as I walked into his room, Bob said “I am so glad you come to visit me.”

Were those coals being heaped on my head? Yup. I think so.  And tomorrow I believe will have something specific during the time of “Prayer and Confession” that is part of the morning service.

Some years ago the city brought a water line onto our property when they installed a fire hydrant further up the road. They said it was to flush the line if needed. The line has a metal pipe with a curved top that sticks a few feet up above ground and a valve. Should our house ever catch fire, the volunteer fire department will have a ready supply of water to put it out.

A fairly large tree fell and partially landed on the pipe, with another branch sort of holding it up a little so the full weight wasn’t on the pipe. Richard was worried about it, because he wasn’t sure how to cut the tree to keep the full weight of it off the pipe.

And then on Thursday, George, the husband of one of the women at the aerobics class, just showed up with his two chain saws and started to work on finishing cutting the trees that were down and one that was still leaning across the road. He took care of the big tree that had fallen on the pipe. Richard has trouble asking for help and accepting help, and at first  he was very annoyed with me because he thought I had arranged it (I hadn’t), but by the time George left, he was very grateful that George came to help him. I hope it will make it easier in the future for Richard ask for help.

Blocked

Once it got light enough to see what had happened here through the night, Richard decided he better walk the driveway to see what state it was in. While we were standing at the counter waiting for morning coffee, he wondered "is that thunder I am hearing?" I didn't think so.

I think what he was hearing became obvious. He didn’t get very far. The driveway was totally blocked by trees that broke under the ice.

Richard got the chain saw going and worked off and on all day to clear it. He made some progress, but it is very cold, it is raining again—but the temperature has risen a little so it is above freezing, so I hope no more ice will form—the chain saw blade is now too dull to cut wood, and he won't be able to finish it.  And even if he did, there is another mess further down the driveway.

We will not be going to church tomorrow...

Fumble Fingers and a Slip of the Tongue

When I became a Christian, I lost most of my old vocabulary. This robs me of the necessary safety valve to handle such emergencies… ripping myself from the barbed wire… I stepped in doggie-do… I ran a thorny brier between my big toe and the toe right next door… and that which I lost I suddenly found—and a torrent of expletives issued forth…

Jamie Buckingham, "The Last Word"

Two weeks ago, we remained after church to take down the Christmas decorations. We worked as a well-oiled team. I was involved in taking the red and gold glass ball ornaments off the tree.

I fumbled one ornament and it shattered when it hit the wood steps leading to the sanctuary.

I was embarrassed, but one of the men made a joke about it and it was okay. Accidents happen.

One of the men got out the vacuum cleaner and sucked up the shards.

Later, when we were transferring some glass ball ornaments that were still in the original packaging to a special container designed to hold the ornaments, I dropped another one, and it too broke. 

I am afraid I also suddenly found what I thought I had lost. Before I could stop myself out came a four-letter word -- true, it wasn't the worst one I could have said -- but it was bad enough. In church no less. I wished a hole could have opened up and swallowed me. But it didn’t.

I hope they have forgiven me for those slips of the hand and of the tongue.

I think next year when it comes time to decorate the church for Christmas, I will find a project that does not involve glass balls.