No way to say goodbye

First of all: If you live in or are thinking about living in a house more than forty years old, please have an electrician come and take a very thorough look at your wiring.

"Pediatrician loses wife, home in fire"

It sounds so, well, newspaperish, which it is, but...when that wife is among the best friends your parents have, and is one of your own closest friends, it sounds pretty cold. The article can't tell the world how Nancy Epple could leave a group aching with side-splitting laughter when she told a story about her own predicaments, or how they kept Santa Claus hats in their suitcases so they could send Christmas cards with pictures from exotic and frequently incongruous locations. The reporter doesn't know how many thousands of children have been through the practice, or how Lawrence makes room in a schedule already too tight to see kids at the last minute, or what a little family the practice's staff have become over the years. (I did their filing during college, so I know the office from the inside.)

What, oh, what, do you do now?

We love you, Nancy J.

Bad and Good at once, or Get Behind her, Satan!

One of my friends from Ft. Hood has MS, which is something that you tend to forget until she specifically mentions it. Her husband had been deployed for just under a year when she had a flare-up that made it such that she cannot drive for several months. I don't understand much about MS, so I don't know why that was the doctor's orders. I gather she's feeling fine now other than the annoyance of not driving. But, a mother of three small boys who's by herself cannot spend six months, or even the remainder of a deployment, without driving, and the Army recognizes this. Her husband was called home and was due to arrive yesterday. So, even in the face of sickness, we say welcome home, Lt. Moore! God is good!

Building relationships and keeping in touch

Apparently I had a good idea.

In a discussion in an email group about building relationships in fellowship in our churches, I suggested a way of starting. My idea was to start at the beginning of a church's directory and try to call everyone in turn. If the first family doesn't answer this time, leave a message and call the next (that is, if no one answers at the Alberts' house, call the Andersons, and so on).

The same thing could apply by sending little notes or postcards to everyone. You could also do this for keeping in touch with other friends or the people in a club.

At any rate, my suggestion was well-received.

Why is it that I can come up with ideas when someone else needs a solution to a problem, but I have few ideas for myself? I'm notorious for this! My mother has gotten all kinds of interesting solutions, from decoration ideas to programs for PEO, that way.

Moving

The packers are coming today and tomorrow, so we're in for a couple of utterly crazy days. Quite honestly it's an irritating process to direct traffic and to feel that you're underfoot in your own home, but it's preferable to doing the whole thing ourselves!

Ironically enough, my Cottey best friend hadn't been here at all, living several states away herself, until last night. She's staying with another of our friends not far away so they came over yesterday. And instead of actually seeing where we live, she got to see us in a state of ready-to-move. Since she's had almost as many addresses as birthdays she knows about moving probably better than most military families. It certainly didn't faze her.

Dreams

If you expect something profound in this post, from the title, you'll be disappointed!

Someone once, none too poetically, likened dreams to the garbage can of one's mind. I think he was correct, in that dreams do seem to mix up a myriad of mental images and randomly assemble them in ways that rarely, if ever, make any sense. I've had occasional dreams that make perfect sense in the light of day...emphasis on occasional.

But really. Last night's dream? The four of us who were constant companions the first year at Cottey (Crys, Ratty, Texas, and Wenonah, aka Beeper) had been hanging around together- which is hard to accomplish now, as we live in three different states! There were pictures of Ratty holding Bluebonnet- Ratty has never seen Bluebonnet at all. Texas, Crys, and I, were relaxing in a hot tub- into which, for some reason, Crys floated alphabet blocks before she got in herself.

she's going to laugh at me and never let me live this one down when I tell her about it, miss Ghost Pirates.