When brother Bob and Beth went home, they left my house in much better shape than before. Bob cleaned one bit of the bathroom ceiling that was discolored, balancing on a ladder while doing it. I was holding the cleaning solution, so I was glad I didn’t look at him. That would have been nerve-wracking.
Bob volunteered to trim the Wicked Wisteria, and I accepted with alacrity. That wild vine is always reaching out for me and running shoots underground in every direction. He made short work of it by putting his trimmer on a pole. John would have been amazed, because he and the grandsons used a ladder and loppers for the job.
I took a photo of them just before they left, needing to show that they seemed unscathed by all their hard work here. What you can’t see is their very smooth exit. We sat on the front porch for a few minutes, waiting for the proper time for them leave to meet their granddaughter. She had just started college in Asheville, and they visited her before driving home. Bob and Beth simply got up from their chairs, hugged me, walked to their car and drove off. Do you realize what was missing? There was no visible packing of suitcases, numerous trips to pack the car, last check for missing items, mad dash to get something from the bathroom, or calling a cell phone to locate it. They must have packed, loaded, and stripped the bed while I was dressing or putting breakfast on the table. Amazing!
David and I were going to our church via computer. We’ve done it many times, but this time it didn’t work. We could participate with the live chat feature on the side, but the rest of the screen was blank. David quickly whipped out his phone with no better luck. He tried to hook up with our former church in NY, but that service was already over. Missing only the first hymn, we watched St. Thomas on Fifth Avenue. It felt like homecoming. When we lived in NY, we’d go to evensong there five or six times a year. It was marvelous to hear that glorious music again, as well as a good sermon. Something we wouldn’t have seen in person was a view of the organist’s hands and feet. We sat on the porch with the waterfall quietly splashing in the background and birds and butterflies flitting about. Worship sometimes happens in ways you never imagined.
Mehrling Muse 