by jphilo | Dec 14, 2007 | Daily Life
Five Mile Drive is still cold. I thought I was handling the winter thing pretty well, until Tuesday afternoon when even my hot flashes couldn’t disguise the chilliness in the living room. A quick look at the thermostat and a trip to the basement confirmed my suspicions: the furnace/boiler wasn’t running.
Hiram restarted it and called the furnace guy. The furnace guy tinkered with it Wednesday and said it needed more work. It quit again sometime last night and a higher echelon furnace guy came today. By the time he got done fixing and replacing and bleeding air out of radiators, our bank account was a little emptier and the house much warmer. This furnace guy, a very patient man who thought that if he explained things like valves and keys and sensors to me I would understand them, said our heat might go out again because something burned up. But, he assured me, we will be able to restart it and stay warm. I hope he’s right.
SInce the boiler’s pretty big, I plan to wrap it in colored paper and top it with a big bow. Then I’ll drag the tree to the basement so our present will be under it. We’ve always wanted fill valves and sensor gizmos for Christmas, and this year we finally get them!
Come to think of it, I’ve received everything I want most this year. My daughter’s home, my son’s safe and my husband loves me. We have a warm house, we’re together and healthy, and we have plenty to eat. Those are gifts many families around the world won’t have. Whenever I walk by a radiator and feel its soft heat, I thank God for giving me new eyes to see His grace at work. I pray for those who are cold and hungry and sick this winter, whether in body or spirit, who need that same grace. And I pray that over the next year, He will teach me and our family how to share the grace we’ve received with others.
Next Christmas, maybe our gift will be the ability to see how He’s answered that prayer.
by jphilo | Dec 6, 2007 | Daily Life
The weather turned cold here right around Thanksgiving, and it’s stayed cold ever since. Nobody was quite ready for it, except the local ski hill owners, but I thought I was adjusting pretty well. Every morning I dressed warmly and took my morning walk, until last Saturday when a mixture of sleet, rain and snow coated Iowa roads with two inches of ice. No more walks down my gravel road until there’s a thaw and the forecast doesn’t hold hope for one.
So I find creative ways to exercise indoors and try not to whine about the cold, but last night I started complaining. I was snuggled in bed, able to concentrate on my reading once my body heat had warmed the sheets. Then I noticed my hands were dry, itchy dry. I needed hand lotion, but that would mean getting out of the warm bed and shivering in the cool air again. Finally, I made a run for the lotion and then dived into bed again.
As the sheets warmed and my hands softened, my heart did too. I thought about all the women before me who never have hand lotion and how painful their cracked, chapped skin must have been. And if they had anything to rub into their skin, I wondered how bad the lard or goose grease smelled, and how cold the run from bed to lotion and back was for them. My attitude changed as I rubbed my hands and thought about those pioneer women. Instead of complaining, I was grateful for a warm house, for new sheets and a comfortable bed, for smooth skin and for legs that function.
So I’m coining a new phrase – hand lotion grace. Whenever I get whiny this winter, a sure symptom that my attitude is growing calloused, I’ll head for my hand lotion and let it’s luxurious grace soften my dry hands and my hard heart.
While I’m thinking of it, I’d better add hand lotion to my shopping list. I’ll need a lot of it this winter.
by jphilo | Nov 7, 2007 | Daily Life
Finally, last night it arrived. The big one. The killing frost that left everything in its wake black and dead. I was relieved to wake up and see the frosty glitter cover every bit of our green lawn. I was relieved to feel my skin prickle during my morning walk. I was relieved to smell the cold and know that winter is on its way.
The warm weather was a guest that stayed too long. It’s pleasant company froze my initiative, lured me into complacency and kept me from embracing chilly weather’s challenges and delights.
Now that the cold’s here, I can look forward to the smells of the Thanksgiving meal mixing with wafts of frigid air when company arrives. I can look forward to December 21 when the days start getting longer again. I can look forward to snow days and cinnamon rolls. I can look forward to looking forward to spring.
My begonias are black now instead of vibrant pink and red. I should pull them tomorrow, It’s time to move on.
by jphilo | Nov 6, 2007 | Daily Life
After years of saving birthday and Christmas money, I finally own a new toy – a telephoto lens for my Canon Rebel digital camera. Once I bought it in September, I could hardly wait to use it.
So I went to a local football game and took pictures of my friend’s cheerleader daughter. The camera zoomed in so close I could see her nose hairs which were very cute. But almost every picture I took was fuzzy. Not enough light, I thought. Or too much bouncy teenager.
The next weekend I took pictures of stuffed animals, which eliminated the bounce issue, in the middle of the day, which eliminated the the low light situation. My pictures were still fuzzy, especially when I zoomed in close.
With practice, I pinpointed the problem. It’s me. Between the weight of the camera and the lens, my hands get shaky. The solution was easy – use a tripod. Except of course, I forgot my tripod when I went to our church women’s retreat. During an afternoon walk on a beautiful Saturday, the oak trees were brilliant. With or without the tripod, I was determined to capture the colors.
One particular spray of leaves begged a picture. There was just one tiny problem. They were way up on the trunk. So I climbed on top of a nearby picnic table. If I told my husband this, he would be very surprised for he knows I get all dizzy and trembly when I climb stuff.
There I was in the woods, all dizzy and trembly after climbing stuff, wishing for the tripod, trying to steady my hands enough to take the picture. Finally I implemented the Lamaze breathing last used when our daughter was born nineteen years ago. It did the trick. My hands steadied and the telephoto lens and I gave birth to some lovely fall photos.
Suddenly I’m eager for long winter evenings devoted to reading stacks of books. If I memorize enough Lamaze manuals, I should be able to photograph just about anything when spring rolls around.
Until then I’ll be happy with these fall colors. Finally, I gave birth to a red head.
by jphilo | Oct 25, 2007 | Daily Life
Tonight could be the night. The moon is full, the sky is clear and we could be in for a heavy frost. I know it’s time. In fact, our first killing frost is so late in coming I’m uneasy. Garrison Keillor often reminds Midwesterners that life should be hard. I’m sure he thinks this fall weather has been giddy for too long, that we’re due for disappointment and hardship.
I know it’s time for the flowers to die. I need to buck up and face winter like a mature woman. I need to look forward to cozy evenings sipping cocoa and nasty afternoons when smells of hot soup and warm cornbread fill the kitchen. I need to put together the menu for Thanksgiving so my sister and mom know what to bring. I need to make a Christmas to-do list and ask my daughter’s advice about decorating for the holidays.
But today all I can think about is how bare my flower garden will look when the killing frost arrives. So for today, I’ll mourn the passing of the flowers. And maybe tomorrow for supper, I’ll make some soup.
by jphilo | Oct 23, 2007 | Daily Life
God revealed a glimpse of His grace today. A teacher friend mentioned that there would be a faculty meeting after school. It’s probably going on right now. And I’m not there. I’m blogging instead – a grace I never anticipated or imagined during my years in education. I am so grateful for the gift of these unexpected days that allow me to pursue my dream of a writing career.
God revealed this grace, but I’ve decided to list others so I’m aware of them and won’t take them for granted:
- A husband who supports my writing endeavors
- A daughter who is not homesick during her first semester at college
- A brother and sister-in-law who love Abby the wonder dog
- The only clump of mums (above) that survived the mid-April hard frost
- Getting a picture of them a day before they began to fade
- The colors of autumn trees outside the big picture window
- The big picture window
- A cloudless blue October sky
- A warm house
- My automatic washer and dryer – today was laundry day
- My MacBook
- Being able to walk four miles each morning
But don’t live vicariously through my list. Make your own instead. I guarantee it will make you grateful instead of greedy, caring instead of complaining.
So give it a try. You’ll be glad you did.
