February 3 – “Old coot. Old bat”

Looks like Galveston Gus the Gull and his pals saw the same shadow that Punxsutawney Phil did out on the East Coast.  Well, not exactly the same.  I don’t imagine his was bird-shaped, or crab-shaped, or pelican-shaped.  But by the time we finished our walk yesterday, we had even seen our shadows – long, spindly eerie reflections of knee-high red socks.  So six more weeks of winter on the Island.  What does that look like?  Oh, it’ll rain a time or two.  May get down into the fifties more than once.  But the trees and bushes are already starting to put out buds, so I don’t think the winter threat has had any frightening effect on them.  Bring it on.

Yesterday Chris was hard at work doing her usual Thursday deep cleaning for Home Group.  I was taking a break from my desk.  I strolled over to the back door and who should be standing there, looking in with a forlorn, graying dachshund face, but poor old Heidi.  She's been with us for nigh unto fifteen years now, and she certainly looks the part.  I started an affectionate little conversation with her through the glass:
“You old coot.  You old bat.  You’ve hung around a lot longer than I ever thought you would.”

About that time Chris came into the room from changing out some clothes in the dryer.  She queried, “Are you talking to me?”

I thought through what I had just said aloud.  “Old coot.  Old bat.”  I sure didn’t want to repeat that without some serious context establishment.  So I simply replied: “I hope not.”  Indeed, “I hope not” may not have been strong enough.  “I’d better not” would work.  Or maybe “Not in a million years.”  Or even ……

Colossians 3:3-4 says, “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

Father, thank you for the ladies you have put in my life.  Human and otherwise.  Amen.