Nope, let’s set aside the sports arenas and coliseums for the moment. I’m talking about the “hey, I see you, how you doin’?” greeting. Because here in South Carolina there are nuances I didn’t learn in northern Virginia. Shades not of meaning, but of identification, especially in boats and golf carts.
The wave tells a lot about the person. Pretty much everyone does it. The degree to which they do it tells you not how glad they are to see you, but how they are feeling about life at the moment.
Let’s start at the top, the hang-out-the-window (or side of the cart) full arm wave and open-mouthed grin. Okay, I may have been a little off on this one. This one could also mean, “hey! I haven’t seen you in forever! Let’s do lunch!” Or the waver could simply be in love with life, glad to be here, want to share some happiness.
Next level down (I say “down” because who doesn’t like to receive the hang-out-the-window greeting?), is the arm-bent-at-the-elbow full wave. It’s almost the beauty queen wave without the full rotation. That one, along with a smile, says, “I see and acknowledge you. Hope you’re having a great day!”
Not quite so enthusiastic is the hand-never-leaves-the-top-of-the-steering-wheel full four-finger wave. I’m also not quite so enthusiastic about receiving that one. If you can’t take the trouble to lift your hand, why even bother at all? Sometimes a small smile comes with it but at that point I really don’t care. That one says, I know the drill and I’m simply following the rules.
Last, (or so I thought until this morning) is the lifted index finger. To me that one says, I’m too cool to acknowledge you except with the use of as few muscles as possible. That one is rarely accompanied by any change in facial expression at all. I usually don’t even respond to that one if I’m the wavee. If I’ve waved first, I’ve been known to track the driver down and stick my tongue out behind his back.
This morning, I encountered the bottom level. I was coming back to my house in the golf cart and I passed a man on a big John Deere. I lifted my hand (always) and waved. He stared at me in stony, unrelenting silence. His eyes said, “I know the rules. I choose not to play. And I’m hoping you get the message. I’m having a lousy day and/or life.”
Don’t you think sometimes God sees us the same way?
“Good morning Father! I’m here because I love You and I know You love me. Let’s spend some time together!” (Full body wave, big grin.)
“I don’t have any time to be with You, but I’ll work for You. And I’ll be in church. Count on that!” (Arm-bent-at-the-elbow full wave with a possible smile, depending on how I feel at the time.)
“I’ll tell people I go to church and I’ll go when I feel like it. But I need my personal time without You crowding me.” (Four-finger acknowledgement, no grin.)
“Could you just leave me alone? I’ll get back to You when I need You.” (least effort of all)
“I’m silent and miserable. Somebody help me.”
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Dip and Glide
Let me just state up front that I ride. Upside down, loops, drops, spins, I love them all. But here I sit in my cabin, gently rocking back and forth and I’m a bit undone. I went up to breakfast and staggered so much that Steve had to lead me back down. Thankfully our cabin is in the center of the boat and the rocking is not quite so bad.
Steve can barely feel it. It’s a big ship; so the issue of rolling is not supposed to be as bad. It’s not like I’m green and leaning over the banister. I’m just disoriented. Having a bit of trouble walking and I’m not sure why I feel this so extremely. I’ve been on so many small boats and roared with pleasure at the rocking and bumping from other boats’ wakes.
But this feels as if my whole world is very gently sliding off-balance. And I’m confused by it.
Let me backtrack a bit. Yesterday after my post, we walked down to the Pike’s Market area in Seattle. What an experience! There was the usual tourist flotsam (in keeping with the nautical theme). However bright chili and pepper swags hung in bunches – not just the garlic braids and chili wreaths but long collections of multi-colored peppers of all kinds and sizes. And flowers, everywhere. Not just vendors and booths full of flowers but growing all along the edges of the stall roofs.
And the pastries and breads! And, of course, the fish. I guess we were too early in the morning for any fish-tossing, but that was just as well. Then with a respectful nod to coffee, we dashed into the original Starbucks. It had real character – worn, rustic and unadorned. My favorite, though, came as we walked back up the hill toward the hotel. We passed a coffee roaster that had one of its doors blocked off with huge hopsack bags of coffee beans piled high.
It IS all about the coffee in Seattle.
We got our things together and trooped downstairs at the hotel to grab a cab. I’m going to wander down a little trail for a minute. Let me tell you how clever my husband is and clever I am not. We decided that we would check three bags in at $23 a bag. We would carry on the last one which would be our overnight things for Seattle. I’m accustomed to carrying a purse and a computer on board a flight. All the things that I cannot take through security are really not an issue for me. So I packed what I would need for sundries that evening and for the trip.
You guessed it. I had included large bottles of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, body spray, hair spray, etc. Our TSA agent thankfully was quite sweet and had a patient spirit. As she set aside what we could not take, I began to add them up and, as opposed to only $23 a bag, we were definitely coming out on the short end of this deal. But we were at the airport in Florence, South Carolina; so our car was only parked a short distance away. Off Steve went to deposit all our items in the car. I wasn’t losing them; but I would have to get them for the trip.
Here’s where Steve’s ingenuity comes in. On a Starbucks run, he discovered an IGA not far from the hotel and talked the checker into letting us come and buy a boxful of those items plus soft drinks and such, pay for them, and leave them. Once we had our cab and were on the way to the pier, we simply stopped in and picked them up!
There’s no need to be concerned about pages of more detail on our checking in, taking care of bags and such. It was handled in such an efficient way that in minutes we were upstairs by the gangplank waiting for boarding to begin. We had seen the ship from the street, but the boarding process between the loading area and the ship made my heart race. Too exciting.
Our cabin is much roomier that we anticipated and there are so many little cubbies! Space has definitely been optimized. Our balcony is plenty large enough for the table and two chairs and it is completely open, yet private. We spent the hours until the time when we were to cast off just exploring the ship.
They had opened the buffet on deck ten (read tenth floor) for early boarders. I got my first inkling of two shipboard facts. First, food – as much (actually way more) than you could possibly eat, any time, anywhere.
Second issue. Heights and an uneasy floor beneath my feet. Steve and I sat down on that first day and admired the view out the window. I looked down to adjust my chair and found that I was sitting on a glass disk ten floors above a rolling ocean! And so began my romance with shipboard disorientation. Who knew I’d feel the need to get on a tilt-a-whirl to get my equilibrium back in the right place? Which is why I found myself at breakfast the next morning staggering into my shipmates.
Next, the fear of food.
Steve can barely feel it. It’s a big ship; so the issue of rolling is not supposed to be as bad. It’s not like I’m green and leaning over the banister. I’m just disoriented. Having a bit of trouble walking and I’m not sure why I feel this so extremely. I’ve been on so many small boats and roared with pleasure at the rocking and bumping from other boats’ wakes.
But this feels as if my whole world is very gently sliding off-balance. And I’m confused by it.
Let me backtrack a bit. Yesterday after my post, we walked down to the Pike’s Market area in Seattle. What an experience! There was the usual tourist flotsam (in keeping with the nautical theme). However bright chili and pepper swags hung in bunches – not just the garlic braids and chili wreaths but long collections of multi-colored peppers of all kinds and sizes. And flowers, everywhere. Not just vendors and booths full of flowers but growing all along the edges of the stall roofs.
And the pastries and breads! And, of course, the fish. I guess we were too early in the morning for any fish-tossing, but that was just as well. Then with a respectful nod to coffee, we dashed into the original Starbucks. It had real character – worn, rustic and unadorned. My favorite, though, came as we walked back up the hill toward the hotel. We passed a coffee roaster that had one of its doors blocked off with huge hopsack bags of coffee beans piled high.
It IS all about the coffee in Seattle.
We got our things together and trooped downstairs at the hotel to grab a cab. I’m going to wander down a little trail for a minute. Let me tell you how clever my husband is and clever I am not. We decided that we would check three bags in at $23 a bag. We would carry on the last one which would be our overnight things for Seattle. I’m accustomed to carrying a purse and a computer on board a flight. All the things that I cannot take through security are really not an issue for me. So I packed what I would need for sundries that evening and for the trip.
You guessed it. I had included large bottles of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, body spray, hair spray, etc. Our TSA agent thankfully was quite sweet and had a patient spirit. As she set aside what we could not take, I began to add them up and, as opposed to only $23 a bag, we were definitely coming out on the short end of this deal. But we were at the airport in Florence, South Carolina; so our car was only parked a short distance away. Off Steve went to deposit all our items in the car. I wasn’t losing them; but I would have to get them for the trip.
Here’s where Steve’s ingenuity comes in. On a Starbucks run, he discovered an IGA not far from the hotel and talked the checker into letting us come and buy a boxful of those items plus soft drinks and such, pay for them, and leave them. Once we had our cab and were on the way to the pier, we simply stopped in and picked them up!
There’s no need to be concerned about pages of more detail on our checking in, taking care of bags and such. It was handled in such an efficient way that in minutes we were upstairs by the gangplank waiting for boarding to begin. We had seen the ship from the street, but the boarding process between the loading area and the ship made my heart race. Too exciting.
Our cabin is much roomier that we anticipated and there are so many little cubbies! Space has definitely been optimized. Our balcony is plenty large enough for the table and two chairs and it is completely open, yet private. We spent the hours until the time when we were to cast off just exploring the ship.
They had opened the buffet on deck ten (read tenth floor) for early boarders. I got my first inkling of two shipboard facts. First, food – as much (actually way more) than you could possibly eat, any time, anywhere.
Second issue. Heights and an uneasy floor beneath my feet. Steve and I sat down on that first day and admired the view out the window. I looked down to adjust my chair and found that I was sitting on a glass disk ten floors above a rolling ocean! And so began my romance with shipboard disorientation. Who knew I’d feel the need to get on a tilt-a-whirl to get my equilibrium back in the right place? Which is why I found myself at breakfast the next morning staggering into my shipmates.
Next, the fear of food.
Friday, September 17, 2010
If I Had Another Life to Live...
…I would live it in Seattle.
We arrived at around 6:00 PM (9:00 PM EST) yesterday to a gray and rainy day. The standard in Seattle, I’m told. How wonderful is that? Those of you who know me really well know that this is my kind of weather. Nothing buoys my spirits like a gray mist.
The clouds hung low and a damp rain fell. We were exhausted, having been on travel since noon. People had been friendly, sweet and helpful the whole day and it definitely was not a hard travel day, just long.
But here’s the thing. We don’t travel that much anymore and I said several silent prayers that God would intervene on our behalf. As I phoned a dear friend and chatted for a bit, Steve stood with an airport cart and waited for luggage. He told me later, he just kept letting people in front of him because he had the cart and he didn’t want to get in their way.
Suddenly the short siren sounded and the belt started moving – on the next baggage area directly behind Steve! All he had to do was turn around and, pretty much, there came our bags. Ours were among the first dozen! The man standing next to Steve said, “Man! How did you DO that?”
We gathered our bags and trudged over to the elevators in search of ground transportation. We had not made shuttle reservations and needed to go downtown. We were aware this could be a serious issue. We asked information and found out about a shuttle service for the major hotels. There was no one in their little “caboose booth” but the woman told us we could just catch it and pay the driver.
Thing is, we didn’t know what we were looking for. And there were so many different kinds of shuttles. Suddenly, Steve made sure I was good with the luggage and bolted across the street. He came back grinning with two reservation tickets and said, “That’s it! C’mon.” He grabbed the luggage cart and away we went toward a small white van parked away from the rest – certainly not one we would have been looking for or even have noticed.
Steve had seen a woman come into the ticket booth The young man told us we had gotten the last two seats, loaded our luggage, and turned to inform the four people approaching that he was full.
I sat in the front seat and enjoyed the hills, the green and the fog. The Seattle skyline was partially covered in clouds and I was taken in. The city had San Francisco hills and so many trees! I have never seen a city with more green.
This morning Steve and I woke at 5:30 (8:30 EST) and I ventured out around 7:30. Buildings were half hidden in fog and everywhere there was the heavenly smell of coffee. It was like chocolate in Hershey, Pennsylvania! Not just on the street corners, the coffee stalls are everywhere!
I haven’t pulled out the camera yet – that’s for the cruise. I just wanted to give a nod to this lovely city. Probably should stop the entry now…it’s getting harder. It’s my third grande and my hands are shaking from the caffeine.
We arrived at around 6:00 PM (9:00 PM EST) yesterday to a gray and rainy day. The standard in Seattle, I’m told. How wonderful is that? Those of you who know me really well know that this is my kind of weather. Nothing buoys my spirits like a gray mist.
The clouds hung low and a damp rain fell. We were exhausted, having been on travel since noon. People had been friendly, sweet and helpful the whole day and it definitely was not a hard travel day, just long.
But here’s the thing. We don’t travel that much anymore and I said several silent prayers that God would intervene on our behalf. As I phoned a dear friend and chatted for a bit, Steve stood with an airport cart and waited for luggage. He told me later, he just kept letting people in front of him because he had the cart and he didn’t want to get in their way.
Suddenly the short siren sounded and the belt started moving – on the next baggage area directly behind Steve! All he had to do was turn around and, pretty much, there came our bags. Ours were among the first dozen! The man standing next to Steve said, “Man! How did you DO that?”
We gathered our bags and trudged over to the elevators in search of ground transportation. We had not made shuttle reservations and needed to go downtown. We were aware this could be a serious issue. We asked information and found out about a shuttle service for the major hotels. There was no one in their little “caboose booth” but the woman told us we could just catch it and pay the driver.
Thing is, we didn’t know what we were looking for. And there were so many different kinds of shuttles. Suddenly, Steve made sure I was good with the luggage and bolted across the street. He came back grinning with two reservation tickets and said, “That’s it! C’mon.” He grabbed the luggage cart and away we went toward a small white van parked away from the rest – certainly not one we would have been looking for or even have noticed.
Steve had seen a woman come into the ticket booth The young man told us we had gotten the last two seats, loaded our luggage, and turned to inform the four people approaching that he was full.
I sat in the front seat and enjoyed the hills, the green and the fog. The Seattle skyline was partially covered in clouds and I was taken in. The city had San Francisco hills and so many trees! I have never seen a city with more green.
This morning Steve and I woke at 5:30 (8:30 EST) and I ventured out around 7:30. Buildings were half hidden in fog and everywhere there was the heavenly smell of coffee. It was like chocolate in Hershey, Pennsylvania! Not just on the street corners, the coffee stalls are everywhere!
I haven’t pulled out the camera yet – that’s for the cruise. I just wanted to give a nod to this lovely city. Probably should stop the entry now…it’s getting harder. It’s my third grande and my hands are shaking from the caffeine.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Directions Unplugged
When we moved to South Carolina, Manning in particular, we had to ask for directions a lot. Fond of mapquest.com and Google maps, I would say, “Just give me the address and I’ll go look it up.” The remainder of the conversation would go something like this:
“…and if you don’t know the number, just tell me the street name and I can find it online.”
“I don’t know the name of the street. But if you go to the Simpsons’ old plant place just after second water, that street just after it is the one.”
“I didn’t know the Simpsons, so I don’t know where their plant place was. And I don’t know what second water means.”
“Okay, once you go a piece past Lane’s … you know Lane’s?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s first water.”
And back and forth we’d go until I would finally have an idea where I was going. As a result, I learned no street names.
Yesterday someone asked me where I get my hair cut.
I said, “I don’t know the name of the street; but if you go toward town, when you get to where the old Walmart was, turn right. It’s down a ways on the left across from the fire station and a couple of doors down from The Dog House.”
Imagine my pleasure as it suddenly dawned on me. I am assimilated!
“…and if you don’t know the number, just tell me the street name and I can find it online.”
“I don’t know the name of the street. But if you go to the Simpsons’ old plant place just after second water, that street just after it is the one.”
“I didn’t know the Simpsons, so I don’t know where their plant place was. And I don’t know what second water means.”
“Okay, once you go a piece past Lane’s … you know Lane’s?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s first water.”
And back and forth we’d go until I would finally have an idea where I was going. As a result, I learned no street names.
Yesterday someone asked me where I get my hair cut.
I said, “I don’t know the name of the street; but if you go toward town, when you get to where the old Walmart was, turn right. It’s down a ways on the left across from the fire station and a couple of doors down from The Dog House.”
Imagine my pleasure as it suddenly dawned on me. I am assimilated!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Bathed
I have mentioned before that cardinals are special to me. For me they are a true icon. Wait, before you go shaking your head and “tsk”ing at me, look it up. An icon can be something that represents God or Christ – an image, picture or representation of some sort. But it is also anything that draws our minds toward God.
And I’m sure my thing about cardinals comes as no surprise to God. In fact He has often drawn me to Him through these beautiful birds. We have a pair that live somewhere just out our back door. They are constant companions to each other and friends to us. I raised my kitchen blinds one day and there was the male, tucked in the corner, looking at me and saying, “This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)
I know their calls now and I look for them, as I seek Him as well. The funny thing is that, though the male is the really colorful and more beautiful of the pair (don’t get me started…), I have found myself drawn more and more to the female. She seems braver and more willing to visit with me. Of course, she also knows that the male is keeping a watchful eye on her.
Imagine my delight when I was sitting down to supper with Steve and I looked out and saw her on the crepe myrtle just outside the window. The sprinklers were spraying and she was in their direct path. And there she sat! Unmoving but quivering and shaking her feathers. She would relax until the next spray doused her. She was enjoying her bath but the flood was too much for her to take. She flew over to the gardenia and sat for a minute and then plunged back into the water.
Yeah, I know this one is too obvious. But that flood of cleansing water! And it’s so clean and so pure and so holy! And sometimes it’s just too much! Surely you’ve felt it. When you’ve been humble about something, and God Himself has lifted you up – you want to run and hide! It’s too much. When the pure joy of your salvation is overwhelming. It’s just too much and we’re torn between feeling inadequate and wanting to hide, and wanting to jump in and drown in it.
Acts 22:16; Psalm 51:7b; Isaiah 1:18
And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name… Wash me and I will be whiter than snow… “Come now, let us reason together,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool….”
And I’m sure my thing about cardinals comes as no surprise to God. In fact He has often drawn me to Him through these beautiful birds. We have a pair that live somewhere just out our back door. They are constant companions to each other and friends to us. I raised my kitchen blinds one day and there was the male, tucked in the corner, looking at me and saying, “This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)
I know their calls now and I look for them, as I seek Him as well. The funny thing is that, though the male is the really colorful and more beautiful of the pair (don’t get me started…), I have found myself drawn more and more to the female. She seems braver and more willing to visit with me. Of course, she also knows that the male is keeping a watchful eye on her.
Imagine my delight when I was sitting down to supper with Steve and I looked out and saw her on the crepe myrtle just outside the window. The sprinklers were spraying and she was in their direct path. And there she sat! Unmoving but quivering and shaking her feathers. She would relax until the next spray doused her. She was enjoying her bath but the flood was too much for her to take. She flew over to the gardenia and sat for a minute and then plunged back into the water.
Yeah, I know this one is too obvious. But that flood of cleansing water! And it’s so clean and so pure and so holy! And sometimes it’s just too much! Surely you’ve felt it. When you’ve been humble about something, and God Himself has lifted you up – you want to run and hide! It’s too much. When the pure joy of your salvation is overwhelming. It’s just too much and we’re torn between feeling inadequate and wanting to hide, and wanting to jump in and drown in it.
Acts 22:16; Psalm 51:7b; Isaiah 1:18
And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name… Wash me and I will be whiter than snow… “Come now, let us reason together,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool….”
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Ride on down the Highway
I had another sweet Virginia friend stop in yesterday to sit on my porch and drink a little sweet tea. I don’t flatter myself. I live on the 95 corridor; so the world does pass close to me and frequently enough. But can I just say how very much it means to me to be able to share my gentle world down here with my dear friends from up there?
Friendship is surely one of God’s kindest creations. I have books with nothing but sweet sentiments that could fill several blogs. But Christian friendship? Oh, that is the best. There is some common ground there that immediately turns us into a “cord of three strands”. We laugh and pray together and we both know that we hold the most important Person in history on the highest ground. And it’s always a rewarding time.
So this is a short one today. I just felt the need to say thanks, Donna, for a lively cart ride and to remind all my Virginia friends (and my Arkansas family) that we’re close to 95, easy to get to – until you leave the interstate at least – and there’s always a pitcher of tea waiting. You brighten my world. Only thing better would be to get you all together with my South Carolina friends. You would enrich each other; but I’ll see to that in Heaven.
Ecclesiastes 4:10, 12
If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Friendship is surely one of God’s kindest creations. I have books with nothing but sweet sentiments that could fill several blogs. But Christian friendship? Oh, that is the best. There is some common ground there that immediately turns us into a “cord of three strands”. We laugh and pray together and we both know that we hold the most important Person in history on the highest ground. And it’s always a rewarding time.
So this is a short one today. I just felt the need to say thanks, Donna, for a lively cart ride and to remind all my Virginia friends (and my Arkansas family) that we’re close to 95, easy to get to – until you leave the interstate at least – and there’s always a pitcher of tea waiting. You brighten my world. Only thing better would be to get you all together with my South Carolina friends. You would enrich each other; but I’ll see to that in Heaven.
Ecclesiastes 4:10, 12
If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
I Know He Was Praying
Super-creepy, yet kind of sweet. We became well-acquainted on the short trip. I hopped in the car and started moving slowly down the narrow streets of our community. I was headed into town to work in Vacation Bible School and I was running a little late. As I slowed to make the last turn, I looked left and then right and then at my driver’s side mirror. There he sat.
I’m not crazy about bugs; but I’m not totally freaked out by them either. I prepared myself to encounter them when I made the decision to move to a warm southern climate. So when I saw the dignified little praying mantis sitting on the top of my mirror, I just smiled at him and he smiled back. I sat at the stop sign for a moment to give him time to hop down. He declined.
So I made my turn and increased my speed to twenty-five. His little praying hands unclasped and started clutching for something to hold onto. I slowed down to give him one more chance to bail. He declined.
I left the plantation and revved my speed up to thirty-five. His feelers were flapping in the wind and I’m pretty sure that’s when the praying started. I had a hard time driving and watching him at the same time. If I had cared about him as much as I led him to believe, I would have stopped the car and helped him down. But I was late for VBS.
So I turned out onto the highway and upped the pace to fifty-five. Head down and battling the wind, he discovered that he could go under the lip of the mirror and hunker down a little. His legs managed to stay put but every part of his body was shuddering against the wind. Please understand, I felt terrible. But I was late for VBS.
I pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car. I said a little prayer and apology for my new friend. I knew he was dead and I was not looking forward to having to remove his frail little form.
To my complete delight, one long leg tentatively swung up onto the top of the mirror. Slowly he pulled himself back up on top. Then he began to groom himself! Now I don’t know what he was smoothing down – whether feathers, or scales, or gills. But he had something there to flatten out. Then he took each long leg in turn and stretched it as far as it would go to be sure everything was still working.
Then he once again settled in to pray and I left to go fix beanie weenies, a clear conscience with my own short prayer of thanks.
I’m not crazy about bugs; but I’m not totally freaked out by them either. I prepared myself to encounter them when I made the decision to move to a warm southern climate. So when I saw the dignified little praying mantis sitting on the top of my mirror, I just smiled at him and he smiled back. I sat at the stop sign for a moment to give him time to hop down. He declined.
So I made my turn and increased my speed to twenty-five. His little praying hands unclasped and started clutching for something to hold onto. I slowed down to give him one more chance to bail. He declined.
I left the plantation and revved my speed up to thirty-five. His feelers were flapping in the wind and I’m pretty sure that’s when the praying started. I had a hard time driving and watching him at the same time. If I had cared about him as much as I led him to believe, I would have stopped the car and helped him down. But I was late for VBS.
So I turned out onto the highway and upped the pace to fifty-five. Head down and battling the wind, he discovered that he could go under the lip of the mirror and hunker down a little. His legs managed to stay put but every part of his body was shuddering against the wind. Please understand, I felt terrible. But I was late for VBS.
I pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car. I said a little prayer and apology for my new friend. I knew he was dead and I was not looking forward to having to remove his frail little form.
To my complete delight, one long leg tentatively swung up onto the top of the mirror. Slowly he pulled himself back up on top. Then he began to groom himself! Now I don’t know what he was smoothing down – whether feathers, or scales, or gills. But he had something there to flatten out. Then he took each long leg in turn and stretched it as far as it would go to be sure everything was still working.
Then he once again settled in to pray and I left to go fix beanie weenies, a clear conscience with my own short prayer of thanks.
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