thisendoftheswamp

Today was Grubby Sunday at Resurrection. Most folks came in work clothes and we stayed after service to hang wreathes and swags, run the vacuum one last time, make sure the hymnals and prayer books are properly lined up – two hymnals on the center and a prayer-book on either side, fill candles, wash sconces, on and on. Fortunately, a fair percentage did stay to help, and we had coffee, mulled cider and donuts to keep us going.

Our new rector is a former Roman Catholic, and he had us in stitches telling stories of Christmas Past. My favorite involved the midnight service at a Polish church in downtown Baltimore. The crèche had been set up in front of the altar, all but the infant Jesus. At mid-night, the priest cried out “Chrystus Rodzi!” and the Baby Jesus came flying out of the choir loft on a zip-line, knocked over the crèche, scattering figures everywhere, and prompted one server to simply flop flat on the floor.

And we thought Resurrection had a lock on fun and games!

Like most of the world, The Squire and I watched in horror on Friday as the news in Newtown unfolded.  We read the names and ages of the victims in church on Sunday, and our local Cub Master became visibly upset. He said later that he has 40 youngsters in his Pack, all the ages of the children killed, and he was just mentally coping with the idea of having half of his troop ripped away.

We had a shooting here on the first day of school, when an unbalanced young man walked into the local high school an opened fire in the cafeteria. Fortunately, he was known to the guidance counselor, who tackled him immediately. Only one student was injured, and there was no other loss of life. It is time to do something, and it is very telling that thirty-one pro-gun senators refused invitations to appear on national TV to discuss this.  Frankly, I don’t think it’s going to stop until one of their kids is involved.

Well, they won’t let me handle it, so how is it going to be done properly?

We had our annual Open House yesterday, which started off with a bit of a bang. I have a habit – a bad one, so I’ve been told – of putting odds and ends into the fireplace. Dead leaves from houseplants, wooden scraps from dollhouse kits, what-have-you, figuring it’s all kindling. The Squire laid a fire and lit it just as the first guests arrived. My “kindling” went up with a whoosh, and the cold air in the chimney forced all the smoke back into the living room. What a mess! Short discussion. I will try to stop being so “helpful” and The Squire will try to look before he lights.

The crowd was smaller than usual, but the weather was yucky and the Ravens were playing their do-or-die game. They died. I asked one fellow why the team even bothered to show up. He said they had to – it was their home field.  One man actually dropped off his family and went back home to watch the game! I’ll bet he regretted that, on a number of levels.

In spite of the weather, my cousin came up from “almost Annapolis” and another old friend came down from Pennsylvania, which were delightful surprises.  My cousin and I were talking about my mom when Old Friend arrived, and the conversation continued for a few moments after he arrived.  I think he was really surprised to discover that the things I had always said about my mom were true.  Let’s put it this way – another cousin once remarked that after spending a week with my mom while his parents were away made Army boot camp a snap.

Suddenly, the smoke alarm sounded! I thought Godson (who was acting butler for the day) had left something in the oven, but it turned out the pink candle on the Advent wreath burned about three times faster than the others, and the fresh (thank God!) greens on the wreath had begun to smolder! Three quick pinches, and the candles were out, and the wreath transported to the patio.

As the rector said, “Lucky it wasn’t a menorah.”

Unlike most folks, The Squire and I are very fond of squirrels. They are playful, intelligent, curious, and just plain funny. Blue Jays, on the other hand, are bullies, stealing whatever they can get, and shoveling most of the seed out of the feeder to get the sunflower seeds.

We put out peanuts for the squirrels, and the Blue Jays grab them. We used to put a peanut on each solar light down the walk, in addition to the ones we spread in the leaves. The Jays would land on the wall, swallow the peanut whole, and then fly away. I started tapping on the window to scare them off, so now they just swoop down and grab the nut without ever landing.

This young fellow sort of reminds me of the lawyer for the defense. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury…”  Or maybe an old preacher. “Brothers and sisters, the Lord said He would deliver us from eagles…”

Cardie is now three and a half pounds, and large enough to wear preemie size clothing. She is still on a feeding tube, as she is not strong enough to nurse, but she is getting her mother’s milk, and coming along beautifully. When she weighs four pounds she can get out of her isolette, and then home.

It just occurred to me that she weighs exactly half of what my girls weighed when they were born – and I thought they were tiny!

When I was in my early teens – 14 or 15 – I belonged to our church’s youth group. About once a year, usually in January, we’d have a District Convention at a city about three hour’s drive away, pre-Interstate.

On one trip, there were three of us kids in the back seat, one in the front, and the driver was our church’s Youth Pastor. About a half an hour out, he pulled over and suggested we all take off our coats and stow them in the trunk. “The car is warm, and you’ll have more elbow room. We can put them back on when we get where we’re going, and we won’t be over-heated.”

Well I just thought this was a wonderful idea. A few weeks later, my sister and I were riding with my mom and I unbuttoned my coat and began to shrug out of it. (I can point out the corner, to this day.) My mother asked me “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, Pastor Geesendaffer said….”

“We don’t do that.” And with that she reached over and turned off the heat. We rode the rest of the winter with no heat in the car. One Sunday morning, my dad reached over to turn on the heat, and my mother flipped by knob back. “Audrey, it’s cold in here.”

“We’ll be there soon.” (It was five miles from our house to the church.) He simply shrugged and didn’t say anything. That afternoon I explained what had happened, and he just heaved a big sigh.

To this day, I seldom wear a coat in the car.  So there! Take that! I am just sooo mature.

Two weeks old, and still two months short!

I spoke with my nephew last night, and Cardie is doing beautifully. She is now just over 3 pounds, off IVs and oxygen, and the doctors say she is acting about a week older than she actually is. They hope to have her home for Chrismas, but probably nearer the first of the new year.  Thanks for all of the prayers and good wishes.

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary, and today is The Squire’s birthday, so we went  to our favorite restaurant to celebrate.  By the time we left, it was dark and a full moon was shining down on us. We had a full moon the night we got married, and I remember the three girls sitting in the back seat of my dad’s car, merrily yodeling some made-up song about “A Full Moon on Your Wedding Night”,  and howling at the moon. How at twelve-year-old and two eight-year-olds knew about “howling at the moon” I didn’t know and have never asked!

We used to sing in the car all the time – the first car I ever owned didn’t have a radio, and so my two and I would sing to pass the time, everything from Jesus Loves Me to Camptown Races. (Do-dah, do-dah!) Even after The Squire and I got married, we would all sing, until one year his nephew spent the summer with us and got mortally offended when we all sang The Ants Come Marching, One by One. Apparently, this is sung to the tune of some Confederate marching song, and the dear boy was so incensed that he made loud bum-bum-bum noises all the way home.

I don’t think we ever sang in the car again.

Except for tonight, when The Squire and I made up our own words for Full Moon on Your Wedding Night.

Last might, as we were leaving for church the cat came roaring toward the door. I could tell by the way he had his head cocked that he was carrying a mouse, but we didn’t have time to chase through the house after him.  I found the poor creature’s head on the living room floor when I went to do my exercises later . Skull, neck, and the most infinitely tiny rib cage. (That’s the trouble with medical types. Everybody else is crying “Ick, ick, ick”, and we are whispering “Isn’t that fascinating?”)

On the way over to services, I nearly lost it when I saw a man floating down the street toward us. Darker than the inside of Shan-Wei’s boot, and this fool was skateboarding on a semi-major road. He’d just crested a speed hump, which just added to the “floating” appearance. Obviously not someone who should be allowed out alone.

Off to my brother-in-law’s home today for Thanksgiving dinner. The Squire and I will bring the mashed potatoes, broccoli and bread, BIL will fix the turkey, stuffing, and “sauer-crap”, and his younger son and family will provide the bread, salad and dessert.

The elder son will not be there, as his wife and new-born daughter are in the hospital.  I don’t usually mention names here, but we need some prayers. Baby Cardie was born 10 weeks early. She weighed in at 2.2 pounds, and is 15 inches long. By the grace of God, the doctors, and some heavy duty praying, she is breathing on her own, which is a tremendously Good Thing.  Still some distance to travel, though, so we can use some extra help.

Hope all of my readers have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

I was up at a perfectly insane hour today because I had an appointment at 6:30 in the morning. I was dressed and fed, and went up to waken The Godson, who is staying with us while his mother is in the hospital.

I had just gotten my car keys off the rack when there was a terrific crash. I dashed halfway up the stairs to see if The Godson had dropped something or fallen, he popped out of the bedroom door to see what had happened, and The Squire came out of the bathroom to wonder if somebody had hit another deer. We must have looked like a bunch of prairie dogs!

The Squire took his flash light and cell phone and headed out to the road. As it turned out, there had been a horrific crash in front of our house. The Squire quickly called 911, and tried to speak to the people in the vehicles involved to see if there was anything we could do without making things worse.

There wasn’t.

From what we have pieced together in conversations with a driver who witnessed the accident and the police, the truck drifted across the center line and ran head-on  into the car. The impact pushed both vehicles approximately seventy feet, from the culvert on one edge of our property to directly in front of our drive. The police estimate that the car spun around several times before coming to rest in our yard.  There was debris all over the street and the yard. The driver and passenger were workmen of some sort (The Squire thinks carpenters) and there were coolers, sandwiches, tool boxes, and backpacks scattered everywhere. The impact popped open the trunk, and the spare tire was about halfway up our drive, resting under a pine tree.

We had five fire companies, two ambulances, more police cars than I could count, and the medevac helicopter.  When the tow truck came to haul away the truck, the driver nearly lost his footing because he recognized the truck as belonging to a friend. The Squire assured him that the man had walked to the ambulance.

The passenger in the car died at the scene**, and we don’t know the status of that driver.

I never did get to my appointment, but then again, neither did any of these men. Take care of yourself, live thoughtfully, and remember that tomorrow is not promised to any of us.

**I just found out that the fellow who died had been stopped a few days ago for driving with an expired license, and ironically was riding to work with a friend to avoid another ticket.