January 4 – “The Master Incorporator”

As I managed to sneak in a few hours of work on Sunday’s sermon the other day, Chris was diligently sorting through boxes of stuff she rescued from her Mom’s house.  She found a lot of books on sewing, knitting, crocheting, quilting – all those girlie kinds of things – as well as numerous unfinished projects along those lines that she now has added to her bucket list.  And there have been other decorative items incorporated into our home’s ornamental scheme – plastic flower arrangements, knick-knacks of various shapes and sizes, and the like.  She has even set aside a box for each of her siblings with some of her Mom’s things to go to each one.  

The vast majority of the stuff is genealogy information on her Mom’s side of the family.  Problem is we can’t figure out her Mom’s filing system.  There are a lot of file folders and notebooks, and some of them are marked with what is actually inside.  Others are either mismarked or not labeled at all.  One box was filled with copies of the book her Mom put together about the Taylor family.  Chris didn’t think any more of those existed.  She definitely has her work cut out for her when she decides to dig into that mess and try to bring some sense out of it.  Meanwhile, it will live in our garage.  And our closet.  And our bedroom.  It’s everywhere.  But to her credit, Chris is a master at making things look like they fit.  A doily here and a basket there, and voila, file cabinets become tables and an old cedar chest becomes a shelf.  The Master Incoroprator.  Amazing

Mom took a tumble yesterday.  Actually, as is her style, it was more of a slow motion, swerving crumple to a sitting position on the floor before Chris could get to her.  She did bang her knee a bit, though.  But her knees are mechanical marvels of modern science, so it’s probably fine on the inside.  She seemed to be rubbing an elbow, too.  Beyond that we’ll just have to wait and see how sore she appears today.  It’s gotta be tough when you can’t communicate. 

Speaking of communicate, I have my regular appointment with my rheumatologist today.  Chris usually goes with me to listen for any medical mumbo jumbo that would just go right over my head.  I guess I’ll have to really pay attention.  Maybe I can secretly record the whole conversation on my cell phone.  Actually I have been doing pretty well lately.  The Celebrex really helps a lot, so as long as that connection holds I should be OK.  Too much else to think about, anyway.    

Psalms 53:1 says, “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”

Father, I know you are there.  Doesn’t stop me from being foolish sometimes, though.  Sorry about those times.  Amen.