Ice Pack Time

I am suppose to ice my lower back four times a day. It is a challenge on these chilly days.

A dear lady at church died yesterday morning. Married for over 68 years to her good and patient husband, she is going to be sorely missed. Her sister died a few years ago, so I am sure they are having a fun reunion in heaven. The funeral is Saturday morning at 10am. So, Bob and a few men set up the chairs for the family's lunch in the fellowship hall. I have used facebook to let some folks know, as some that have moved away still check out the church's facebook page. And email.

The dear lady's husband was instrumental in getting a huge bell for our church, and he even built a bell tower. The bell can be heard from our house, as we live one mile south as the crow flies. After the funeral service Saturday morning, the husband wants the bell rung seven times. The neighbors may wonder why the bell is being rung seven times when it will be closer to noon, but supposidly, it is the number of completeness. Sounds kinda superstitious to me. Oh, well. What can it hurt?

The sun is shining. Last night it got down to twenty-two degrees which is super cold for our part of the country. It was colder in Dalhart, Texas yesterday than in Anchorage, Alaska! Now the blizzard is working its way to the east. The water vapor maps on the weather sites show large portions of the country covered in snow---like clouds that do not move. I wonder if folks at the farm in Illinois got snow?

And I wonder if my friends at Brietbart TV will do a live show today from Pittsburgh if they got lots of snow?

I talked to a friend who used to go to our church last night to let her know about the dear lady's passing, and we got caught up on our kids news, and I could hear her three year old grandson in the background. My friend asked what all I do all day. I get this a lot from women who work outside the home. They don't see how they would fill their days if they stayed home. Between laundry, cleaning, vacuuming, dishes, cooking, shopping and playing around on the computer, it is a big mystery whatall I do all day. I give up. Let it just stay a mystery. The washer is beeping---time to throw a load in the dryer. The beeping drives me crazy. I'd love to disable that button.

We don't live in a big, fancy house. And some things will wait to be repaired to when we have the money. Fixing the garage door opener may move up in the line as I haul groceries through there. But, our house is paid for. And our sons launched. Bob would like to travel, but, I don't think my back can take days and days in the car. I am thankful that I was able to stay home when my boys were small, and haul them to all their activities before they could drive. The computer gives me a window on the world. And the newer technologies like facebook and twitter and email give me an opportunity to touch base with relatives scattered all over the USA. I used to write lots of letters, but email and facebook help me save postage these days. Then there is knitting, and trying to be creative in the kitchen. And I don't read books, I devour them. When Bob is done with Sarah Palin's book, I want to read it again for pleasure this time, as she handles words like a pro.

Blogging is an outlet. A place to ponder why are there so many detective shows on TV these days...are there that many murders? And what is with the Ghostwhisperer phenomena?? That show is on one right after the other on one of the few channels the tv computer picks up. I like to switch channels. a lot. and Ghostwhisperer was trying to sell us on the idea of zombies last night. Right. not.

Back to the dear lady from our church who died yesterday morning. Bertha Lee, honey, you missed a beautiful day with horse tail clouds, and bug-killing cold. There was this huge cloud shaped like a flower when I was driving to Fort Worth to eat lunch with my husband. It is a rare thing, to DO lunch with Bob. And we thought of you, and your dear now widowed husband. No more suffering for you. No more hospice and bed sores, and hospitals and nursing homes. No more knee pain and hip pain. No more struggling to eat. You were always so kind to me and mine at church. You loved the cards and letters, and news about our boys, and we have missed seeing you at Sunday School. I am so glad Carol got to see you over the weekend. It is so comforting to know that you heard sweet, gentle Carol.

Bertha Lee's husband tells the story of Pearl Harbor Day as a day that was like so many Sundays---they had gone to Dallas to the picture show, and heard the news when they came out. In the sixty-eight years since, they raised a family, enjoyed children and grandchildren and greats. And yet, were so faithful to assemble each Sunday. Such examples of love and devotion. Never a mean word, never a bad word. Always gracious, and patient, and kind.

Bertha Lee's husband tells adventures with cattle, and we will never forget the exciting one about the bull that jumped out of his trailer going down the road. Our church has this group of elderly folks who were all kids together, grew up and worked near one another, and continued going to this church for all their lives. What a legacy. And while it is sad to see old age catch up with them one by one, they have a history, a wild give and take of a big family without malice, yet spiced with a great deal of humor. Humor born of love and getting along for decades. And while there will be tears on Saturday, a stranger may wonder what he has wandered into when the stories and the laughter also proclaim a life well lived.