Poetry for Cats

I was straightening up a book shelf tonight and found this book which had gotten behind some others. The title of the book is Poetry for Cats. It is described as "The Distinguished Anthology of Destinguished Feline Verse." My daughter took this to her English teacher in high school, and she used some of the poems on a test to see if the students could identify the author by the style of the poem.

The photo of my cat doesn't quite suit this poem, but it will do. Besides, I love this photo of her.

Sitting By the Fire on a Snowy
Evening

by Robert Frost's cat

Whose chair this is by now I know.
He's somewhere in the forest though.
He will not see me sitting here
A place I'm not supposed to go.

He really is a little queer
To leave his fire's cozy cheer
And ride out by the frozen lake
The coldest evening of the year.

To love the snow it takes a flake:
The chill that makes your footpads ache,
The drifts too high to lurk or creep,
The icicles that drip and break.

His chair is comfy, soft and deep
But I have got an urge to leap.
And mice to catch before I sleep.
And mice to catch before I sleep.

by Henry Beard

Some other titles include "The Cat's Tale" by Chaucer's cat, "To a Vase" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning's cat, and "She Walks in Booties" by Lord Byron's cat. I was just looking at Barnes and Noble to see if this book was there. I didn't find it, but he has some interesting looking titles about cats. I might have to buy some.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. Sarah and I went out with friends of mine from church. The Holiday Inn Riverfront has a buffet every year, and this year it was pretty decent. Way too much food, though. On Friday morning, Sarah and I went up to north Florida to visit my cousins. When I blogged about my cousin's cabin, Sarah was intrigued by it so we decided to make the trip.

Better than seeing the cabin was visiting with my cousins. Sarah hadn't seen them since she was very young, so it was a good time of connecting and renewing acquaintances. Their lives are busy, but they live in a country setting, quiet and peaceful, which is so different from the everyday busyness that goes on around here.

Going into the holiday season brings a little sadness. I remember the first year after my husband's death, we sort of went through the motions of the holidays, feeling rather dazed. The next year I thought it would be better, but it was worse, I think. The numbness had worn off, and the realization of his absence from us was felt even more. Even now, there is a wistfulness as we move into the holiday season.

I used to have big parties and have lots of friends in during the holidays, but I hadn't done much of that in recent years. So Sarah said, "Mom, let's have an open house this year." So, we're going to. I look forward to having the laughter of friends in the home.

We made a list the other day of whom we would invite and then a list of what we would have. Sarah said, "Mom, just make the stuff that we used to have." So, there won't be an updated menu, but I don't think anyone will mind.

I did something that I haven't done in a long time. I went to W**-Mart. I had decided when the new Publix opened, I would shop there, even if things were more expensive. I would go in, get what I needed, and not be tempted to look at all the stuff. I miss the W**-Mart of old when we would go and see friends there that we hadn't seen for a while and talk and talk.

I must say that I stayed with my list, and I wasn't tempted by all the stuff that used to draw me. Maybe I've grown up, or I'm just too tired.

The bell ringer was out front from Salvation Army. That's a good thing I can say for the store. Inside the store Christmas music was playing. I guess they've decided to say Merry Christmas again. I was a bit bothered by the music though. They were playing the beautiful Christmas hymn, "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming." I thought that it was rather out of place. Such a beautiful hymn, but it seemed so out of place. Perhaps someone heard the words and it made a little impression.

So it's off to begin preparing for the open house. I wish you could come.

Shout joyfully to the Lord!

Psalm 100
A psalm. For giving thanks.
1 Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.
2 Worship the LORD with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.

3 Know that the LORD is God.
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.

4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.

5 For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations.

A few years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, there was a column in our local newspaper by Joan Beck, a columnist for a Chicago newspaper. I always looked for her columns becasue they were so refreshing. She dealt with issues of the day, but not in the way of some of our columnists today. This particular column was titled, "For All Things Great and Small, we give Thanks on this Thanksgiving Day.

I'm going to put excerpts of it here. If you would like to read the whole text, e-mail me, and I'll send it to you. I love the way she uses alliteration in her essay.

Our fathers’ God to thee, author of liberty, we say thanks this day for homes and homecomings and homilies and Holmes, for holidays and holograms and hollyhocks, for taxol when it saves lives and tax reform when it’s real, for thesauruses and tyrannosauruses and all the wonders your hands have made....

For amber and ambulances, and amniocentesis and amicus curiae, we are truly grateful, O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come. So, too, for daylight savings time until it ends, and a new year when it begins, for waffles and wiffleballs and warehouse clubs, for loons and lofts and lollipops for licorice and libraries and lilacs and liberty, for joggers, and jigsaws, and jonquils and jazz...

God, who is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble, we are grateful for comets and comedies and comic strips and the Pacific Rim community, for hope and soap and kaleidoscopes, for mother and foster mothers and grandmothers and motherlodes and mothers of invention. Our thanks, too, for answered prayers and amazing grace, for herbs and heroes and Hemingway and the Heimlich maneuver...

For diapers and diamonds and dialysis, we give thanks, o God the omnipotent, for unicorns and universities and UNICEF, for cells and celery and cellular phones, for trips and ships and scholarships, for friends in need and angels nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God

Joan Beck, columnist for the Chicago Tribune.

In everything give thanks?

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I've been giving a lot of thought these last few days to things that I'm thankful for. On Sunday our pastor had a wonderful service. His message dealt with praising God.

After each section, we sang a capella a fitting song. We are to praise God for His great works. We are His great work, aren't we, fearfully and wonderfully made. "To God be the Glory" was the song that we sang--"To God be the glory, great things He hath done. So loved He the world that He gave us His Son."

Then we are to praise Him for His faithfulness to His flock. "Great is thy faithfulness, Oh God, my Father, there is no shadow of turning with Thee. Thou changest not, Thy compassions they fail not. As thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.

Next we are to praise Him for His unique Majesty. There is none other like Him. "Majesty, worship His majesty. Unto Jesus, be all glory, honor and praise...So exalt, lift up on high the name of Jesus. Magnify, come glorify Christ Jesus as king. He is great, all sufficient, all powerful, holy.

The verse "In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." But God, am I supposed to be thankful that my husband was taken so suddenly and senselessly? Am I supposed to be thankful that my little granddaughter was born with cystic fibrosis? But the verse says, "In everything." So thank you, God, even though I may not understand, You have a master plan, and You are sovereign over our lives.

I'm reminded of Corrie ten Boom, who wrote that while she and Betsy were in the concentration camp, they thanked God for lice...lice! Because of the lice, the guards would not come near them to do them harm.

Happy Thanksgiving! Have a wonderful day with your family and friends.

Did you see this?

I saw this comic strip the other day and thought of many of you.

Am I cute, or what?

I can hardly wait to get my hands on this baby again. Whenever I call David and ask him how Ella is, the classic answer is "fine." So I realize that I have to get my most descriptive narrative from her mother. And she is doing fine. She certainly looks like she's gaining weight well, doesn't she.

They're off to Ella's other grandparents for Thanksgiving, where she'll get to visit with her little cousin who is about nineteen months old. Then at Christmas they'll be travelling here to spend Christmas in Florida. I'm really tempted to look for a quick flight to Waynesboro before then, however.

Thanks for all your comments upon my return. I felt so out of the loop when I was gone and then didn't have my computer. I value each of you, even though I've never met any one of you. It is amazing how the internet has been used to create bonds we never would have known.

It seems so long

It seems like it's been so long since I posted. As I said in the last post, I went to Orlando to attend Women of Faith last weekend. It was great, as usual...16,000 women in the arena, laughing, crying, singing, worshipping together, and at times, it seemed like we all tried to go to the bathroom at the same time. Women of Faith has been going on for eleven years. I missed the first one, but when I heard about it on the radio, I determined that if they came near where I was, I wouldn't miss the next one, and I haven't. A group of 20 went from our church this year.

Back in April, I posted about Ben, a young man who was very ill with testicular cancer. Ben and his wife live in Columbia, South Carolina. His cancer doctor conferred with Lance Armstrong's doctor in Indianapolis, and Ben has since been since by this doctor. He recently had more surgery and is recovering from that. Here is what Liza wrote:
November 13
Dr. Einhorn has recommended one more surgery. It is not as risky, dramatic or extensive as the last 2 have been, so that's good. There is still teratoma left in the lymph nodes in his abdomen, so they need to be surgically removed. But, we are pleased because Dr. Einhorn called this the final step. That's the first time we've heard those words, so we are thrilled about that.

The surgery will be scheduled for sometime in January, once he's recovered fully from the last one. It will be done here in Indiana and they said about 3 days in the hospital as opposed to 6 for the last one.

We are still waiting for the results from the blood test, to tell us his latest HCG level.

We have a lot to be thankful for with the holidays coming up. The end is in sight--praise God!

Nov. 15 HCG is 2.6!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is what we've been waiting for since March! Halleluiah! Well, we're getting closer, but we're not there yet.

Continue to uphold Ben, Liza, and their families.

My computer is still not 100%, but it is better. I've been reading your posts, even if I haven't commented in the last few days.

Away for a couple of days

Hello all,
I'm going to Orlando tomorrow for a couple of days. While I'm gone, my computer is going to a friend's house for some repair. I went to install a piece of hardware the other day. There was a CD that had information that needed to be loaded, and my dvd drive wouldn't work. Oh, dear. Dan says he thinks he has one that will work in it.
Dan's a great guy. He works for V***n, and he works on computers at night after dinner. He's self-taught and reasonable. He used to not charge anything, but since computers have become so much more complex, it takes longer to do things on it and to it. He's still very reasonable.
I'll see you early next week. Have a good weekend

Just like Jesus

Some of you recall my blog about my friend, Eunice, whom I visited on my way to Virginia. Eunice is the dear friend who has befriended Sam and Butternut, the two neighborhood dogs.

Eunice had been very stubborn for a very long time about having a computer or even webtv so that she could have e-mail. She finally relented this past year. She has MSNTV...like webtv, but she can access the internet and read everything on her TV monitor. It is really quite the ticket. While I was there, I bookmarked some blogs for her to read, especially those who post photos of cats.

When she came back home to Bradenton, she had some problems connecting to her DSL. My friend, Peg, who was down from Chicago for a week, went over on Sunday afternoon to help her get it connected and working. They had to call V*** and talk to a technician.

When Eunice was finished talking with him, she said, "Thank you, Jesus." Peg thought she was offering up a brief prayer. Eunice said, "No, the tech person's name is Jesus, and he said that he's available 24 hours a day to help."

Isn't that just like Jesus!!!

"Lo, I am with you always, unto the end of the earth." Unlike Jesus, who was on the other end of the phone line with Eunice, He knows what we need even before we ask. I find that a most comforting thought.

More of Ella

Ella was three months old on Saturday. My, how she has grown from that little baby that came home with her mom and dad from the hospital back in August. Someone had asked me what the chest therapy was like. Every morning and evening David and Sabrina do "thumping" on Ella's chest and back. When the two of them are doing it, it takes about ten minutes. If only one does it, obviously it takes a bit longer. When I went with Sabrina to the CF clinic in Charlottesville, the physician explained that she does not have a buildup of mucous in her lungs yet, but they are having them do the therapy so that she will be used to it, and they will as well. When she gets a little older, there is a vest that they can use to do the therapies.

Sometimes she screams while they do it; sometimes she's placid as you see her here.
See, she does smile. One day while sitting on the couch with her, her mom picked up my camera and began snapping away. I miss that little girl. I can hardly wait until they come visit at Christmas and then again when I can go back and be Grammy again in the flesh. 

A Change of Pace

Once again, I'm posting here an article from lifesupportsystem.com Several of you have commented on other articles that I've posted here from the same website. This one is worth reading as well.


According to a Greek legend, in ancient Athens a man noticed the
great storyteller Aesop playing childish games with some little
boys. He laughed and jeered at Aesop, asking him why he wasted
his time in such frivolous activity.

Aesop responded by picking up a bow, loosening its string, and
placing it on the ground. Then he said to the critical Athenian,
"Now, answer the riddle, if you can. Tell us what the unstrung
bow implies."

The man looked at it for several moments but had no idea what
point Aesop was trying to make. The moralist explained, "If you
keep a bow always bent, it will break eventually; but if you let
it go slack, it will be more fit for use when you want it."

So it is with us. Our minds and bodies are like the bow. When
constantly under pressures of everyday life, we can eventually
break. We need to loosen up; we need time to take the pressure
off and relax.

Former baseball pitcher Dutch Leonard might have put it a little
differently. He once said that the secret of great pitching is
not speed or the ability to throw curves. It's the "change of
pace." The average batter will soon learn to hit a pitcher who
continually throws the same kind of pitch. But it's hard to hit
against a pitcher who changes the pace of delivery. That change
of pace gives a pitcher the edge over the best of batters.

A change of pace likewise gives us an edge in life. Taking time
to watch the clouds, enjoy a breeze, take a walk, read or just
slow down is necessary if we are to be our best later. And a
regular day of rest is as important as regular sleep. It's a way
of taking the pressure off.

To be your best, make sure you change your pace. It may just be
the change you need.

Steve Goodier

Happy Halloween from Ella

 

Hi, from Ella,
I'm so glad so many of you like the picture of my aunt Sarah's cat Tucker. He is a furry nice cat. You can be sure that my aunt Sarah makes sure that he is safe on Halloween night. He's always safe inside her house along with Samson. 

My grammy found a couple of jokes about black cats.

Q: What do people in England call little black cats?
A: Kittens!

Q: When is it unlucky to have a black cat cross your path?
A: When you're a mouse!

I hope you all have a safe Halloween, and don't eat too much of your kid's candy.

Love,
Ella

Boo Y'all

  

Behold Tucker, Sarah's cat. Her friend, Sandra, whose work I've posted here before, sent this to Sarah a few days ago. When she e-mailed it to me, I told her that surely Tucker would be on my blog on Halloween.

I leave you with some great literature to ponder on Halloween.

Oh, Lovely, Lovely, Lovely

The witch flew out on Hallowe'en,
Her hair was blue, her nose was green,
Her teeth the longest ever seen,
Oh, she was lovely, lovely, lovely!

Her cat was black and fit and fat,
He lashed his tail and humped his back,
He scritched and scratched and hissed and spat,
Oh, he was lovely, lovely, lovely!

They rode a cleaner, not a broom.
"Go left!" screeched Puss and spoke their doom.
She turned right-they hit the moon.
Oh, it was lovely, lovely, lovely.

Anonymous

Back in Florida

I left Waynesboro Saturday morning and drove as far as Savannah, Georgia Saturday afternoon. Sunday morning I got up and drove until I arrived safely at home around 2 in the afternoon. I listened to the Bucs getting beat on the radio and finished watching some of it. They're pathetic this year.

Back in Florida the sun is shining, and it isn't nearly as hot as it was when I left at the end of September. It's good to be home, but I surely left my heart in Virginia with Ella and her parents. Hopefully, I'll get back up there soon. I have lots of things on my plate at the beginning of November. And then the holidays come. Our church choir is doing a cantata this year. We haven't for a couple of years. Sweet Adelines is doing a couple of Christmas shows, so I have to get busy on that music.

The first thing on my calendar tomorrow is to get my hair cut. When you wear it short, five or six weeks between cuts is a l-o-ong time. And the color begins to fade...

Until tomorrow.

Are You Renewing Your Dream?

This article rang a bell with me this morning when I read it, and I think that it follows well on "The Land of Sandra Dee." I think until about the age of 50 I kept thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up. After a while, the feeling passed, thinking it was probably too late to start on something else. These days I spend time keeping my heart beating, and my eyes seeing. I do keep a rather busy schedule, but sometimes I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. My month of taking care of my granddaughter has nearly come to an end. My, how I have loved being with this little baby and thinking of all the future holds for her. I sit back and admire my son and his wife how they have taken hold of the situation with her health and are doing everything in their power to see that she is as healthy as she can be and realizing that the rest is up to God.

Enjoy this post received once again from www.lifesupportsystem.com.

"Grandpa," a young girl asked, "were you in the ark with Noah?"

"Certainly not, my dear," Grandpa replied in astonishment.

"Then," the puzzled child continued, "why weren't you drowned?"

Maybe he seemed older than Noah to her, but seniors may be finally
getting respect they rightfully deserve. Hugh Downs reported that
when senior adults are properly motivated, their intelligence does
not wane. In fact, the ability to organize thinking may increase as
folks age. Many people in their 50's, 60's and even 70's can go
through college with greater efficiency than at 18.

Adults over 70 years of age have contributed richly and in varied
ways.

- Emmanuel Kant wrote his finest philosophical works at age 74.
- Verdi at 80 produced "Falstaff" and at 85, "Ave Maria."
- Goethe was 80 when he completed "Faust."
- Tennyson was 80 when he wrote "Crossing the Bar."
- Michelangelo completed his greatest work at 87.
- At 90, Justice Holmes was still writing brilliant American
Supreme Court opinions.

And then there's George Dawson. George learned to read at age 98. (He
was forced to quit school when he was a small child in order to help
support his family.) "I got tired of writing my name with an 'X,'" he
said. Four years later, at age 102, he wrote his autobiography, LIFE
IS SO GOOD (2001, Penguin Group).

Dreams are renewable. They need not expire like an over-due library
book. No matter our age, we can breathe new life into old dreams.
I believe that the best age is the age you are, but something even
better awaits just ahead for those with the courage to dream and to
act.

Are you renewing your dreams?

The Land of Sandra Dee

I received this from a couple of different people in e-mails recently. Not all of you can identify with all of this, but I surely can.

Long ago and far away,
In a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan
Or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents,
And they were you and me,
Long ago and far away
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Oh, there was truth and goodness
In that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges,
And Peyton Place was porn.

For Ike was in the White House,
And Hoss was on TV,
And God was in his heaven
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We learned to gut a muffler,
We washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry
In circles on the lawn.

And they could hear us coming
All the way to Tennessee,
All starched and sprayed and rumbling
in the Land of Sandra Dee.

We longed for love and romance,
And waited for the prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz,
And no one's seen him since.

We danced to "Little Darlin'",
And Sang to "Stagger Lee"
And cried for Buddy Holly
In the Land of Sandra Lee.

Only girls wore earrings then,
And three was one to many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts,
Except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams
Did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We fell for Frankie Avalon,
Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie,
They never made it twice.

We didn't have a Star Trek Five,
Or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,
And Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat
Whose co-star was a chimp.

We had a Mr. Wizard,
But not a Mr. T,
And Oprah couldn't talk yet
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We had our share of heroes,
We never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin, Or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal,
And life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever,
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never seen the rock band
That was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson,
And Zeppelins weren't Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then,
And Monkees in a tree,
Madonna was a virgin
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We'd never heard of Microwaves,
Or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed,
But they weren't grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out,
And "gay" meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We hadn't seen enough of jets
To talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at
The bottom of the bag.

And Hardware was a box of nails,
And bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

Buicks came with portholes,
And side show came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough
To cover both your cheeks.

And Coke came just in bottles,
And skirts came to the knee,
And Castro came to power
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We ! had no Crest with Fluoride,
We had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras
Designed by Howard Hughes.

We had no patterned pantyhose
Or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

There were no golden arches,
No Perriers to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda,
And cats were not called Bill.

And middle-aged was thirty-five
And old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

But all things have a season,
Or so we've heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline
We swear by Retin-A.

And they send us invitations
To join AARP,
We've come a long way, baby,
From the Land of Sandra Dee.

So now we face a brave new world
In slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using
Smaller print in magazines.


And we tell our children's children
of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

What a kitty!

The smallest feline is a masterpiece. - Leonardo da Vinci

Saturday afternoon Sabrina and I drove out into the country to a baby shower. We were a little late getting there, and when we entered the home, there were about a dozen ladies gathered oohing and aahing over all the neat baby things.

As I sat there, I noticed a lady holding this kitten. I couldn't believe that a kitten was actually being calm among a group of women and girls.
After the gifts were opened, we were invited to go into the kitchen area for refreshments. I lingered behind to visit with the kitten. She was sleeping on the back of the sofa as you see here. When I picked her up, she made no effort to get out of my arms.

One of the ladies said that the lady of the house had found her out in the barn with the other cats, full of fleas and needing attention. She brought her in, worked on ridding her of fleas and bottlefed her until she was better.

I cannot imagine that there is nothing wrong with her. She is just so calm. I've never seen a cat quite like that. One of the ladies there said that she looks like a Himalayan kitten. I would have loved to have put her in my pocket and brought her home with me.

Cats are connoisseurs of comfort. - James Herriott

More fall photos

I love the sun shining through the colored leaves. This photo was taken as Sabrina and I were going to a baby shower Saturday afternoon.
While driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway, we stopped at a welcome center. A pioneer village has been recreated here.
Authentic cabins have been relocated here. They reminded me of my cousin's cabin in north Florida, although these are just as they were...no electricity, no running water, no plumbing.
For a better view, click on the photos. 

Fall Foliage

Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn.
- Elizabeth Lawrence

Come for a ride along the Blue Ridge Parkway. We left a little after noon for a ride to see the fall colors. We first of all started to the Skyline Drive, but the line was long waiting to pay to go into the park, so we decided to turn around and go south along the Blue Ridge ParkwayWaynesboro is at the juncture of the parkway and the Skyline Drive. The Appalachian Trail also runs parallel to the drive for a while. I don't know exactly how long...David could tell you all about that.
When tourists come to Florida, they're always in awe of the beaches and beauty of the state. I'm in awe of fall. I lived in Ohio for five years when I was out of college, but that was SO LONG AGO that I had forgotten how beautiful fall is. Last year, when I came to visit David and Sabrina, the leaves had not even begun to change, even though it was late in October. The day was cool; the air, crisp...a perfect day for being out and enjoying the wonder of God's creation.

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
- Emily Dickinson, Nature 27 - Autumn

Two Eyes, Two Hands

I received this in an e-mail from Steve Goodier. Perhaps you need this today or know someone who does.

An older couple lay in bed one morning, having just awakened from a
good night's sleep. He tenderly took her hand, but she pulled back
responding, "Don't touch me."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because I'm dead."

Her confused husband said, "What are you talking about? We're both
lying here in bed together and talking to one another."

"No," she said, "I'm definitely dead."

He insisted, "You're not dead. What in the world makes you think
you're dead?"

"Because I woke up this morning and nothing hurts."

It is good to be able to laugh when we can, and especially about
daily aches and pains or normal problems. But sometimes our
difficulties and losses are so staggering we wonder how long we can
cope. Lingering and chronic illness, loss of someone we love and
overwhelming worry can devastate us. All of us have known almost
unbearable pain and hardships. Heart-breaking times. We might
think we will never again wake up feeling good.

A wise obstetrician at a university teaching hospital once made a
comment about suffering. Someone asked the doctor what advice he
offered to his students, future doctors and nurses, when caring for
mothers who gave birth to stillborn infants.

The doctor paused for a moment in thought. Then he said this: "I tell
them that they need two eyes. One eye is not enough; they need two
eyes. With one eye they have to check the I.V.; and with the other
eye they have to weep. That's what I tell them," he said. "I tell
them that they need two eyes."

He knows the secret of hard times: we need two eyes. One for seeing,
the other for weeping. And we need two hands. One for holding on, the
other for reaching out.

I don't know all there is to know about suffering. But I do know the
way to survive it. Two eyes; two hands. That's how we get through
this life best.

I don't have a cat, but...

I received this photo in an e-mail today. Since it's still Tuesday, I believe that it qualifies well for Tummy Tuesday.

Another note from Ella

Hi, do I look ready for Halloween? My grandma brought me this black cat cap when she came up from Florida. My mommy got me the orange jacket. We had to go out in the yucky weather today to go visit the specialist to see how I'm doing. My daddy put me in the car, and then my grandma and I drove "over the mountain" from Waynesboro to Charlottesville where my doctor's office is. My mommy called the house to tell us that there was dense fog on the mountain. Well, dense it was. My grandma got a bit scared, but I didn't know the difference because I was asleep in the back seat. SRP, my grandma's blogging friend from Virginia Beach, had told her about driving in the fog on the mountain, but it was my grandma's first time.

We made it safely there. Everyone kept saying how beautiful I am. The nurse and doctor, respiratory therapist, and social worker were all so glad to see me. I'm gaining weight like I should, and I don't have any respiratory problems now.

They're all sort of learning with me because screening for cystic fibrosis was just made mandatory in Virginia in the spring of this year. According to the CF Foundation website, there are 22 states that require this screening. If I have to have this disease, it's sort of good they found out now. That way, maybe the doctors can prevent scarring to my lungs.

There is a 38 year old scientist at Johns Hopkins who has CF, and he is working every day to find a way to fix the gene. I'm counting on him or somebody like him to succeed in his search.

By the way, I like all the nice things you say about my pictures and my last letter. One of these days I'm going to smile really big for a picture, but not yet.

Bye for now.

 

Which do you prefer?

Last weekend I drove across I-64 this past weekend to visit my brother-in-law and his family. While there, we went to B*sch Gardens-Williamsburg. There was quite a crowd there...spooks and goblins aplenty. I had been planning to go the weekend before, but the weather was bad here in Waynesboro and worse in Yorktown, so I stayed in. I'm sure many of the people who had planned to go to Busch Gardens the weekend before decided to take advantage of the nice weather and get their visit in. The first place that the 18 year old nephew headed was for one of the roller coasters. I was happy to watch from a distance. I rode a roller coaster once at Coney Island near Cincinnati, and I promised God that if he would let me get off alive, I'd never ride another one. I don't believe that my heart could stand it.
The eight year old nephew chose the tamer rides and activities. The teacups look familiar. They were always a favorite of ours at W**tDisneyWorld when our children were younger. My daughter, who now can only ride if she is the driver, loved the teacups. One year we went on President's Day. David and Sarah and their dad rode the teacups. Don eneded up in the first aid room. He apparently had some fluid in his ears and ended up dizzy. Later in the day, David crawled up in my lap. He was coming down with something, but he swore that the teacups made him sick.
The fishing game was sort of neat. The nephew got to fish until he caught one and then was able to choose a prize.
I enjoyed worshipping at my brother-in-law's church, where he serves as music minister and Christian Education director and anything else that needs to be done. We worshipped in the gym because the congregation has outgrown the sanctuary. That's a nice problem for a church to have.

It was a good weekend, but a tiring one. My stamina is not really good at best, and I'm used to flat terrain. So after an afternoon and evening of tramping around the park, I was ready for a comfortable bed. 

Ella Marie

When Sarah and I came up over Labor Day weekend to visit with Ella and her parents, I brought along some clothes that I had kept from my children. On Sunday, when we were getting ready for church, Sabrina brought Ella out in a dress that Sarah had worn when she was a baby twenty-nine years ago.

I'm amazed at the generosity of friends who have given clothes to Ella...hand-me-downs maybe, but they are worn so little before they grow out of them that they look new. I don't think that they will need to buy any clothes in the next two years.

Ella and I went to Charlottesville today to have lunch with her mommy. Of course, everyone oohed and aahed over the pretty baby. We're not at all proud
We're ready for Halloween already. Before I came up I say the CUTEST costumes at Cracker Barrel. The smallest size was 9 months, so I didn't buy anything, but I was surely tempted. I went to K-Mart after I got here to get some things, and I found this bib. It works perfectly for this year. The fun begins.

Gas is 1.79 in Staunton, Virginia. How about that. 

Monday musings, or something like that

I read an interesting quote this morning that came in my e-mail from Steve Goodier.

The only thing that separates any one of us from excellence is fear,
and the opposite of fear is faith. I am careful not to confuse
excellence with perfection. Excellence I can reach for; perfection
is God's business. -- Michael J. Fox

I particularly like the last sentence. Perfection is God's business. Isn't that a wonderful thought. We'll certainly never attain perfection on our own. But Paul wrote in Philippians, "Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ."
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Bet, at Dappled Things refers to an interesting article in Business Week that addresses the freshness of items in our pantries. According to this article, I should probably throw out all my cake mixes and some of my canned goods. Since I live alone now, I don't cook like I used to, but when I go to the store, sometimes I just can't pass up a bargain. If I buy it and don't use it, it really isn't a bargain is it.
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My friend Tammy, Kentucky Gal finds herself in a tough spot. Her husband's plant voted to go on strike, and they are crushed. This morning in her blog she said that the two of them would be out job hunting today. Stop by and leave a thought of encouragement for her.
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Melangehas a beautiful post today - a photo of a rose in sepia tones. It is lovely as is the writing.
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Yesterday Ella wore a dress to church that belonged to my daughter Sarah when she was an infant. I haven't uploaded it to my computer yet, but I'll post it when I do. She hasn't quite got the idea of smiling when she sees the camera yet.

Later...

The many faces of Samson

Oh, it has been a cold and rainy day here in Virginia. I had planned to drive from Waynesboro to Yorktown today to visit my brother and sister-in-law and their sons. I started out, but before I got to the interstate, I turned around and came back home.

I've watched a lot of football today and read lots of blogs, and I didn't think that I'd post anything today, but I remembered a photo that my daughter sent me in e-mail yesterday. I've posted photos of Tucker and Samson before on this blog, but this one of Samson is exceptional.


Sarah works at a large human resourse company here, and one of her managers picked up a camera one day and started taking photos. She realized that she loved photography and has done some lovely work. She has just retired from her job and is hoping to do more and more photography.

One Saturday she went to Sarah's house to photograph Tucker and Samson. Samson turned out to be the ham, and this is one of the pieces that she did for Sarah. To see more of her work, go here.

Moses, Sam, and Butternut

After leaving my cousin's home in north Florida, I drove to north Georgia to stay for a few days with my friend Eunice. Eunice is a friend from Bradenton who five years ago built a home in north Georgia where she spends her summers. I've visited there several times before, but I looked forward to these few days before leaving for Virginia. The sourwood trees had already changed color when I arrived there so I got my first glimpse of fall.I know that Friday is Ark Day for cat bloggers, so I'll add a cat here. Meet Moses. Moses is fourteen years old and came to live with Eunice on Christmas Eve many years ago. She rescued him from being euthanized. He was living his last day on earth unless he was adopted that day. The people at the shelter called him Groucho because of his black "moustache", but Eunice changed his name to Moses since she had rescued him, just as Moses in the Old Testament was rescued from the bullrushes.
Over the past few years Moses has been ill, and it was thought a couple of times that he would need to be put down, but he lives on. He loves the summer home in north Georgia. There is a wonderful screen porch that he can spend his carefree days on, or he has a wonderful comfy spot on Eunice's bed where he spends a lot of his time.
This is Sam. Sam came to live in the neighborhood a couple of years ago. Evidently abused, he would not let anyone touch him. Kathy and Norm, Eunice's neighbors, began feeding him. When they were away, Eunice would take care of him. Her food was better than Kathy and Norm's. She really spoiled him. Last year Kathy and Norm decided to get a dog, and they tried their best to get Sam to come into their house, but nothing doing. They ended up adopting a dog who is their companion inside. Sam moved to Eunice's and there he stays. She spoils him rotten. The closest she can get to touching him is when Sam nuzzles her hand whenever she's giving him a treat.
Just down the road lives Butternut. At least he eats there in the morning and night. He lives with a young man and his daughter. The young man's wife died in an accident some time ago, and the dad is trying his best to work and raise his daughter. The dog doesn't receive much attention there, so guess where he has ended up. You guessed it...on Eunice's front porch. Sam and Butternut spend their time there, waiting for the magic hour when Eunice walks out the front door to give them a treat. She feeds Sam regularly too. When Eunice comes back to Bradenton later in October, the rest of the neighborhood will take care of the dogs. They're good that way.
Moses will make another trip to Florida where he will spend the winter and spring with Eunice, waiting for the next trip to Georgia where he'll be able to enjoy that wonderful screen porch with his wonderful mom.

Meanwhile, back at the cabin

I thought I'd bring you back for one more look at my cousin's cabin. I hope there aren't any P*TA people out there viewing this who will find it objectionable. Those deer do have beautiful eyes, though, don't they. It's getting to be that season, isn't it. These heads are mounted near the front door as you enter.In the kitchen above the window these tins can be seen. I love those Cracker Jacks.
They've carefully constructed a split-rail fence along the property. These aren't seen too much any more.
After an hour or so of visiting with my cousin and walking around her property, I made my way down the road on my way to Georgia. I love coming to this spot to see what's new (or old) at the cabin, but most of all, to visit my cousin. She and her husband have done so much to preserve a little bit of the past in her county.
If you ever drive down I-75, take the first exit, go to Jennings. The city hall is on the left just after you cross U.S. 41. Stop in and ask for Sharon. Tell her Beverly sent you. She'll give you a warm southern welcome. She might even leave the office and take you for a tour of her place. 

Hi, from Virginia

Hi, my name is Ella. My grandma came all the way from Florida to take care of me this month. My mommy went back to work on Monday, and I'm all alone with my grandma during the day. I take a nice long nap in the morning, but after I eat lunch at noon, we go for a walk down the street where I live.My grandma is so excited to see the leaves that are changing colors and falling to the ground. She came to Virginia last year in October, but it was hot and the leaves would not change their colors for her. So, while we're out walking, she stops and looks and takes pictures of the pretty leaves.
She even takes pictures of the leaves that fall to the ground. She's just glad that she doesn't have to rake them up. My daddy raked three big bags full last Saturday. When we got back to the house, my grandma laid me on the changing table and took off my clothes because it was hot outside. I love to lie on the changing table and look outside and all around.
. Today is my two month birthday On Friday my grandma will take me to the pediatrician for my two month checkup, and you know what that means...shots. I have to get a shot for RSV every month during the fall and winter to help me not get sick.

Every morning and every evening my mommy and daddy have to do physical therapy on me. They thump my chest and my back to try to keep my lungs clear. Every time that I eat I have to take enzymes to help my food digest. My daddy prays every day that the scientists will find a way to fix my gene that caused me to have cystic fibrosis.

On the 17th, I get to go with my grandma to meet my mommy for an appointment with the CF specialist in Charlottesville at the university hospital. They will poke and prod and x-ray to see how I'm doing. I'll be sure to let you know.

My grandma is tired at night after she has taken care of me all day. She says that she should have gone to the gym to build up her muscles before she came up here.

She's going to show you some pictures from Georgia, but she wanted you to see how much I've grown. I'll come back another time and see you again. 

Do you have an anchor?

I received this in an e-mail this morning from Steve Goodier.

"Though I have never seen it, I'm told that the Niagara River has acouple of interesting signs upstream of the famous falls. There is one by the side of the river visible to daredevil boaters that reads,"Do you have an anchor?" Then just downstream is a second sign tha tsays, "Do you know how to use it?""Do you have an anchor?"

I have found that a solid anchor is indispensable to one who intends to live life fully. To have an anchor is to be centered and well-grounded. It is to have a vitalspiritual base."Do you know how to use it?" For no amount of faith is enough if it is not used. We all come to what has been described as the "Red Sea place" in ourlives. That is the place where there is no way back and no way around. We have to go through.You know the places I mean. We find ourselves up against a critical loss, an irreversible setback or a course of action that cannot be changed. There is no way back and no way around. We have to go through.

Even a small ship can weather major storms if it has an anchor. But it is likely to be tossed about and even capsized if the anchor is not used. What will you do when you get to the next "Red Sea place" in yourlife? Do you have an anchor? Do you know how to use it?"

What or who is your anchor? I find mine in my faith in God and Jesus Christ. The last words from an old gospel song speak what I believe.

Though the angry surges roll
On my tempest driven soul,
I am peaceful, for I know,
Wildly though the winds may blow,
I’ve an anchor safe and sure,
That can evermore endure.

Refrain

And it holds, my anchor holds:
Blow your wildest, then, O gale,
On my bark so small and frail;
By His grace I shall not fail,
For my anchor holds, my anchor holds.

Mighty tides about me sweep,
Perils lurk within the deep,
Angry clouds o’ershade the sky,
And the tempest rises high;
Still I stand the tempest’s shock,
For my anchor grips the rock.

Refrain

I can feel the anchor fast
As I meet each sudden blast,
And the cable, though unseen,
Bears the heavy strain between;
Through the storm I safely ride,
Till the turning of the tide.

Refrain

Troubles almost ’whelm the soul;
Griefs like billows o’er me roll;
Tempters seek to lure astray;
Storms obscure the light of day:
But in Christ I can be bold,
I’ve an anchor that shall hold.

Refrain