September 1 – “Craziness”

The couple was stunned.  A jest indeed it was.  And the jest fell upon them.  Friend after friend rose and explained their carefully selected gifts.  Some had been made by the Queen herself years before and given as gifts, only now to be returned with joy.  Tears fell from Giver and Receiver alike as memories raced through the room, some shared by all, some only by the dear Giver and the humbled Queen.    Later, in a quieter moment, one of the friends approached the Queen's husband.  "One further gift," was all he said.  He looked down at the simple card in his hands, noting that it held an unknown object within.  Slowly he opened the card, wondering what glittering tree adornment could possibly be so small.  And then he saw.  And wondered in amazement.  For there in the card was a key.  That was all.  And the giver smiled and said, "The blue wagon outside is for you.  You have great need for it now.  You must carry supplies and tools.  It is perfect for the Island.  And it is now yours."    What a welcome home last night.  The house seemed very hot to me, but I wasn't sure since the house I had been to is always kept on the warm side.  I went right to the thermostat and saw that it was reading 86 degrees.  OK.  That is warm on anyone's scale.  I dropped my overnight bag on the bed and returned to check the drain on the air conditioner.  That's what went wrong last time we had this problem.  Thankfully, before I pulled everything apart I looked at the thermostat one more time.  And I noticed that the setting had been changed.  Not the control that indicates your requested temperature.  No.  The setting. It was on heater.  That would explain the warmth in the air.  I switched it back over to AC and the unit clicked on immediately.  Took awhile, but the house gradually cooled back down.  I checked in with Mom and asked how she had been whie I was away.  I told her I noticed that she had gotten cold since she turned the heater on.  Of course she had no idea what I was talking about.  Ah, well.   Later on she went into the laundry room and started putting clothes in the dryer.  April has started a load for her earlier in the day and Mom just remembered they were in the washing machine.  She called me into the laundry room to ask if I knew "what this is."  Now that's a scary question.  What could possibly be in the laundry room that Mom would have no idea what it was?  As I started toward her I called out that I would finish her laundry for her.  But she said, "No, that's not it."  When I arrived I saw that the dogs had had some problems in their sleeping area that would require - how shall I say it? – cleaning up.  I helped her get her clothes into the dryer, and she went back to the Astros game.  Then I attacked the floor.  Swept.  Mopped.  Threw all the bedding into the washing machine to be washed – twice.  While I was at it I gave the dogs their heartworm medications and realized we were out of flea pills.  Put it on the list.  Took a shower.  Now that felt good.   By the time I finally settled down to watch some of the game, I was ready to crash.  I got a text from Chris and began our nightly communication spree.  I got another text from Kel who was at the Astros game sitting 12 rows behind the team owner.  We watched for him but they never showed beyond row 7 or 8.    And while I quietly texted and enjoyed the Astros victory, suddenly we heard loud pop.  I know it was loud because Mom even heard it and asked what that was.  I had a hunch I knew, but I sure didn't want to find what I expected.  Sadly, I was correct.  See, every year at Easter Chris saves a few of the eggs we dye.  As long as they don't break, the insides will gradually disintegrate over the years.  She still has some from when our boys were young.  Surprisingly they survived the hurricane.  You can't really see the decorations on the storm survivers any more, but they are still there.  The only danger comes if one of the shells ever cracks.  When that happens every horrible smell you ever imagined pours out from within and permeates the entire house.  It's happened several times through the years, and it never got any better.  One time the boys were playing soccer in the house (Chris and I were outside).  "Somebody" (we still aren't sure who) scored a goal – right into the egg basket.  And eggs started popping all over the place.  The boys ran outside screaming and laughing.  It was pretty funny.  Not so funny when Chris made them go back in and clean it all up.   So.  That's what I imagined might have happened.  The house had been quite hot for who knows how long.  Now it was cooling down quickly.  Drastic climate changes can't possibly be good for the eggs.  And unfortunately I was right.  Two of the eggs from this past Easter had exploded.  The odor hadn't had a chance to overwhelm us yet, so I got the outside and into the trash can as fast as I could.  I washed off gthe remaining ones just to make sure they were unaffected.  Then I put our last two eggs from the carton in the frdge into a bowl (hope I remember they are uncooked), and put the rest of the Easter eggs in the carton.  At least if they explode again they will be somewhat isolated from each other.   Crazy night and crazy day ahead.  Woke up at 4:50.  It's 6:50 now.  My plan is to go to the first day of school today, get some stuff done there (trying to set up my desk), get back home to get Mom some lunch and get her to water therapy by one, youth group tonight.  Oh, and Cailyn is staying with us this evening while her Mom is in class.    Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 says, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: 2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, 3 a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, 4 a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, 5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain, 6 a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, 7 a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, 8 a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace."   Father, I pray for that time of peace.  Amen.