September 14 – “One more day”

I got some good news last night.  Received a text from Lauren (the Seasider).  Seems she found a way to make the construction debris from our demo day all go away.  We were going to arrange for a dumpster this week, but it sounds like the project is almost complete already.  Way to go, Lauren.  Keep letting God use your networking skills for his glory. 

Speaking of the construction, everyone who worked on Saturday was anxious to get another look at the results of their labor yesterday.  A whole group traipsed up the stairs before worship began to check it all out.  Looks like we may need a second coat of paint out in the hall, but the kitchen looks great.  All ready for the cabinets to arrive.

And speaking of the cabinets, Sharon told me before church began that she had just heard from hubby Bob.  He was somewhere near Huntsville on his way to the church … with the cabinets in his trailer.  He was hoping to arrive before church let out so he would have some help unloading.  And sure enough, as soon as we finished up, a quick check out the window revealed the trailer already parked over by the ramp.  Several folks rushed out to help, but Bob had already unloaded most of the cargo.  They helped him finish up and get them all inside the building.  We are ready to go for the install day next Saturday.  We won’t have the countertops for a while, though.  They should get here by the end of the month.  We might just set some plywood over the cabinets in the meantime so the room will still be usable.  Excitement builds.

On the home front, renovation-type projects have begun to lag as we await the myelogram tomorrow (no food or drink after 9 a.m. for the 1 p.m. test.  This is being treated way too much like surgery) and the hearing aid delivery and installation (that’s what they will be doing, isn’t it?) on Wednesday.  We also still have construction purchasing to do for the church this week.  Stove, dishwasher, microwave, electrical stuff, sandpaper, plumbing stuff, and to quote a famous work of dramatic art, “etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.”  We enjoyed our Grandparents’ Day FaceTime call/entertainment extravaganza from Josiah and his brothers and sister last night.  You wouldn’t believe what exciting and creative ways there are to twist and turn one’s body and one’s cell phone to create new ways to see oneself on the screen. 

Hey … today’s Monday.  A brand new week and a brand new day.  And a great day to be alive. 

2 Timothy 2:22 says, “Flee the evil desires of youth, and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.”

Father, thank you for one more day of hanging around here on your planet. Amen.

September 13 – “An HGTV-worthy marvel”

The big workday number one at church went well yesterday.  Our goal was to remove all the existing cabinets from the kitchen in the retreat center and begin painting the entire inside of the center.  New cabinets have been ordered, and they should be in by next Saturday’s workday number two.  This week Chris and I get the enviable task of buying the new stove and dishwasher and possibly microwave that will fit into the design.  We found out yesterday that the stove is on sale this week at Home Depot, though, so that will make the task somewhat easier.  And at some point we need to order one of those construction dumpsters so we can get rid of all the debris that now resides under the building.  That should add to the fun when we have to toss in all those dead cabinets. 

We had some great help with this demo project.  Several families from the home school music co-op that uses the building were there in force to lend a hand.  They were incredibly helpful.  Young Caleb flexed his muscles during the demo, and Joshua was more than anxious to get his hands on one of the paint rollers.  The girls were great with painting and the subsequent clean-up.  Thank you so much to them and their moms for coming out to help.  Among the Seasiders there, along with me and Chris, were Cathy and Lauren and Chris (the other one) and Cory and Sarah and four others, all named Dolly (insert sound-track chuckle here.  I mean the hand truck and furniture dollies).  Not to mention our fabulous resident electrician, Eric.  He came out much earlier than the rest of us, and discovered he had quite the task on his hands.  It was bigger than we had any idea about, too.  We thought he would be installing another line for the new stove and moving one outlet box.  He ended up tracing and labeling all of the electricity at the breaker box, inspecting all of the exit and emergency lights, and helping out on a myriad of little things – those inevitable hidden gems of construction that are only revealed during renovation demo. (Hey, I’ve seen my share of HGTV, too, you know).  We moved the freezer to ease the load on one circuit.  We also replaced some sheetrock behind the sink area with some of that green rock, anti-mold version.  And we got the entire kitchen area painted.  And speaking of painting, we discovered 20 or so gallons of paint in the storage room that matched the paint in part of the hallway, so we used that to start on freshening up that hallway space.  The paint we just bought we will use for the interior of the bunk rooms and perhaps the meeting room.  Sound like a lot of painting?  It is.  Help.

The plan for next week?  Well, first of all we plan for the cabinets to be here, so their installation will be a big priority.  Cabinet tops as well.  Eric has the final electrical touches to complete.  Then we have the sink to reinstall.  And the stove and dishwasher and microwave to install.  And some shelves to be installed.  And the kitchen to be put back in order.  And then there is the painting.  Lots of painting.  Oh, and if we can get one of those dumpsters, we have to toss quite a load of trash into it.  That will take some young bulldozer-claw hands, I’m sure.  That’s a serious amount of work, I know.  And I didn’t even include steam cleaning all the carpet.  I’m afraid that will have to live to fight another day, perhaps our next window of opportunity between retreat center users.  I think that comes sometime in October.  I’ll keep you posted.  Meanwhile, spread the word.  What word?  Well, for this situation … Help.  For the grander picture … Jesus is Lord!

Philippians 2:10-11 says, “… that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Father, you are indeed Lord, even of construction projects.  We sure dedicate this one to you.  Use this place for your glory.  Amen.

September 12 – “The Fateful Phone Call”

So, the fateful phone call has been made.  After dodging and putting it off for as long as I could (Hey, I had to take care of the hearing aid issue.  And the dentist.  I had to go to the dentist.  And then there was the issue with that chemo brain drug.  I finally got off that, by the way.  Started the replacement yesterday.  Specialty drug, this new one.  Has to come from a specialty pharmacy.  Seems fitting, though, since I’m so special, right?  Oh, ,and I also had to get in just one more fishing trip to begin re-stocking our freezer for future fish fry’s.  And the church work days.   Had to get those scheduled.  And Cailyn.  We had to take care of her off and on.  See?  I really wasn’t out and out dodging anything.  I was just too busy), I finally called them.  The neurosurgeon’s office that is in charge of ordering … the myelogram.  Ouch.  It hurts just thinking about it.  But today my back hurts worse than my memories of prior myelograms, so onward we go.  Once that call was made I had to wait for the hospital to call me back with times and instructions.  St. Luke’s in Houston.   At least it’s a biblical name.  

Yesterday we were in Home Depot, in line to purchase paint and paraphernalia for the church workday today.  And the phone rings.  Of course.  And it was the fateful phone call.  They were ready to schedule an appointment, and I left my calendar book in the car.  And it’s raining.  I have to be the one to pay since it is a tax exempt purchase, but I also have to be the one to talk to the hospital.  I tossed the tax number and credit card to Chris, opened up the umbrella and took off.  The scheduler was quite patient as we hurried through the rain together.  I made it to the car fairly dry, though.  And the scheduling began.  Next Tuesday at 1:00.  But be there by 11:30 to check in.  Bring insurance card and ID.  And no food or drink for four hours before 1:00.  Wait a minute.  I’m writing as fast as I can, but why do I have to be the one to figure that out?  Four hours before 1:00.  Couldn’t she have just said, “Don’t eat or drink after 9:00 a.m.”?  Too easy, I guess.  We got it all scheduled, though.  And now we wait.

Chris took care of the paint purchase with ease.  Those five gallon cartons of paint are sure heavy, though.  I’ll be happy to have some help getting them out of the car today.  Hint.  Hint …

2 Timothy 2:3 says, “Endure hardship with us like a good soldier of Christ Jesus.”

Father, thank you for apple tarts and hot coffee.  I know that’s kind of random, but I appreciate them nonetheless.  Amen.

September 11 – “Swimmin’ in the rain … no, really”

Rain was falling.  The constant dripping often turned to hard pelting as the line of storms rolled through the area.  The distant sounds of thunder got closer and closer until it sounded as if explosions were being set off all around.  And just as the rain reached a fever pitch, blackening the skies and flooding the streets … we left for water aerobics.  Hey, we’re no ninnies, you know.  Ever onward through the fog, er, lightning. 

We arrived in the middle of yet another round of hard rain.  Not to be deterred, and since we were both in swimsuits anyway, we decided to forego the umbrella.  Chris bundled up and left the car.  On the other side of the Chevy, however, an entirely different scenario was developing.  Instead of covering up and hiding from the storm, I decided to embrace it in all of its glory.  I took off my shirt, threw my backpack over one shoulder, and dove into the downpour.  Using my arms, now free with the backpack secured, I literally swam threw the storm, alternating between the American crawl, the backstroke (which was difficult because I couldn’t see where I was headed), and my personal favorite for such momentous occasions, the breast stroke.  It’s the perfect choice for gliding through heavy rains.  It’s like parting the seas before you and advancing into the waiting abyss.  Lots of fun, too.  Now, don’t worry.  I don’t think anybody saw me other than Chris.  And she already thinks I’m more than a little bit … “off.” 

We got inside in time to see our classmates standing around … outside the pool … in the dark.  Apparently the lightning managed to find a place to land closer than anyone expected.  And even in an indoor pool, with lightning that close and no power inside, water aerobics class was in grave jeopardy.  Checks of the radar screen showed the bands continuing.  No end in sight.  That was it.  Water aerobics class was history.  All of us sighed resignedly and headed for our cars, stopping latecomers as they arrived and telling them the news.  Some were excited.  Others were rather disgruntled.  After all, they came all that way for nothing.  But not for nothing for those of us who made the most of the situation.  I for one was excited to try out some different strokes on the ways back to the car.  Sadly, however, the rain had stopped.  And before we got home, the sky had cleared.  Crazy Galveston weather.  Another reason I love living here.  Crazy seeks out its own kind.

Psalms 135:6-7 says, “The Lord does whatever pleases him, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and all their depths.  He makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth; he sends lightning with the rain and brings out the wind from his storehouses.”

Father, thank you for the rain.  That’s just another way for me to say thank you for providing the venue for some exciting rain swimming.  Amen.

September 10 – “100% Coverage”

Now yet another hearing test is behind me.  The results were exactly the same as they have been every other time.  “Mr. Vaughan, you have significant hearing loss.”  OK, OK, I get that.  So let’s move on to getting the new hearing aids before these that I have give out completely. 

The most attractive feature of this new audiologist is, of course, that she is located in Galveston.  She lives in Spanish Grant – a West Ender – so that’s a plus, too.  She doesn’t have a doctorate like the other two did, though.  But I’m hoping her years of experience have given her a practical handle on the two issues at hand – which brand do we select and dealing with the insurance company. 

Sure enough, she recommended an entirely different model than the one the others did.  She wasn’t so high on the ones that operate in conjunction with the iPhone, simply because she has had to repair and return so many.  Hmm.  That is a red flag.  That is also the one the other audiologists did recommend.  We went back and forth on that one, but finally agreed to go with her recommendation, since it does sync with the phone for using things like FaceTime. 

And then came dealing with the insurance company.  In initial phone calls, they had assured the other two audiologists that I was covered 100% for a new pair of hearing aids every year.  Chris and I never really trusted that statement, though.  So the office manager here called and finally worked her way through to a human being to get some answers.  She was on the phone with him for about 45 minutes while we waited.  Meanwhile, the audiologist’s system calls for us to be approved for a mini-loan through their affiliate bank so they get their money up front.  Then when the insurance company pays them, they cut us a check.  We had already passed that process with flying colors.  All that was left was confirmation of the “100% Coverage.”  Well, it took that whole near-hour, along with some pretty tough questioning, but we finally got the answer.  Sure, they provide 100% coverage.  100% of whatever Medicare would pay for the same service if they offered it.  Which in this case they actually don’t.  Sound confusing yet?  They were finally able to locate a chart somewhere in their archives that detailed a specific amount that they would cover – about $2,020 less than the hearing aids cost.  That’s what 100% coverage means to the insurance company.  I’m sure there will also be some other hidden exceptions that will no doubt apply in our case as well.  Sigh.  So much for getting the hot tub up and running any time soon.  It’s been seven years since it last worked.  What’s another seven?  And at least I’ll be able to hear the doctor’s instructions at the myelogram …

1 Timothy 6:12 says, “Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”

Father, thank you for what the insurance company does cover on those hearing aids.  It’s the first time we haven’t had to buy them totally on our own.  100%.  Amen.

September 9 – “Voice Messages”

I missed a phone call yesterday.  Two, actually.  Not that unusual an occurrence, I know.  One was from a specialty pharmacy that will be providing one of my rheumatoid arthritis medications.  “Will someone be home tomorrow between the hours of ten and six to receive a Fed-Ex delivery?”  I guess that’s not something they want to leave by the front door.

The second message was from a guy who has been visiting at Seaside for a while.  And he left a message that really made my day.  He asked me to give him a call back, and then added, “If you are out fishing, then I hope you catch a lot of ‘em.”  Now that’s a great Galveston sentiment to leave with someone on a phone message.  Much appreciated, Phillip.  Especially since the call came while I was … well … out fishing. 

I had a few hours on Tuesday morning to sneak out to the beach and cast out a line.  It was a fairly profitable day, too, no doubt thanks to Phillip’s good wishes.  One nice keeper red, a few black drum, two really nice speckled trout, and some whiting.  Those incessant pests, the ladyfish were out as well, and stole their share of bait.  One of them did lose out to one of the specs, though.  They were in a race for the bait and the spec literally smacked the ladyfish aside for his swipe at that shrimp.  His victory couldn’t have made me happier.  I did run into a different bait snatcher this trip.  Haven’t seen them in quite some time, but I was surrounded by them.  Needle-nosed eels were everywhere.  Their mouth is shaped just like a pair of needle-nose pliers – long a skinny.  They move almost as fast as do the ladyfish, but they are a pain in the neck to shake off the hook. 

Speaking of pains in the neck, last night didn’t go so well in the back pain department.  I tried to get through one night without taking anything for pain.  I was doing well until around midnight.  That would be when I first turned over in my sleep, I imagine.  I struggled with it for an hour or so before giving in and taking something.  I still woke up every hour on the hour, though.  I have to admit there were several times last night when I was ready to go under the knife right then.  Sigh.  I guess I’ll call about scheduling that myelogram. 

But first … hearing aid appointment today … in Galveston.  I’m hoping for insurance approval to get the kind that can use Bluetooth to connect to my iPhone.  High tech.  WooHoo.

1 Timothy 6:11 says, “But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness.”

Father, thank you for the fishing success yesterday.  And thank you for the sleep that I did get last night.  Give me the courage to make that myelogram call.  Amen.

September 8 – “Holiday musings”

Lots of talk going on in the paper and around town about the anniversary of the 1900 Storm.  Pretty horrendous event in the history of Galveston.  Worst natural disaster in the history of the United States, in fact.  It developed a healthy respect for hurricanes and a certain pride of resiliency among the citizens of the city that has continued to this day.  I for one have certainly bought into the respect for the storms, and the house I live in is a monument to that resiliency.  Galveston is just a great place to live.  There is nothing quite like getting the sand between your toes, because once it’s there, it never quite goes away.  There is always the call of the Gulf somewhere in the back of your mind, and the sweet aroma of sea water embedded in your nostrils.  Makes you proud to be a Galvestonian.

OK.  So much for my Chamber of Commerce rant.  But yesterday was, after all, the last holiday weekend of the summer season.  And the beaches were filled to the gills with tourists.  And we … stayed home.  Yep, that’s the usual local response to the massive influx of visitors to the Island.  Well, at least those of us who are not directly involved in the tourist industry.  Since my water therapy ended on Friday, and Monday would have been my next session, Chris twisted my arm to go on a walk with her.  I actually made it a mile.  I know she could have gone much further, but my back was tightening up, so she stopped with me.  Little did I know that meant we were going inside to continue the workout doing the core exercises the physical therapist sent home with me.  I know.  My wife loves me.  Not so much my back, though.  Especially after I followed up the exercise session by mowing the grass.  Made it through the back yard without too much trouble.  The grass was really high, though, after all the rain we have had.  That led to trouble in the front yard.  This mower just stops when it gets overheated.  No warning or anything.  It just stops.  And it won’t start again until it feels like it can continue.  I know that must have been the case at least fifteen times.  I did get the front and a lot of the side finished before the rain started.  Yep.  More rain.  I only got a small bit of the weed eating done because of the downpour.  No edging at all in the front yard.  Chris did get some plants repotted, though, so she was happy.

Once inside and showered I did some more work for the church, and then retired to the couch for my Labor Day holiday to truly begin.  We watched the bulk of the Astros game, of course.  10-9 loss after falling behind 8-2.  We also kept switching back over to watch the Labor Day marathon showing of the entire season one of The Librarians.  It was a show we discovered last year, so we had seen many of the episodes.  The Librarians are a group tasked with protecting the world from the incursions of dangerous magic and weirdness.  Starts back up again in November.  It’s a fun show. 

We also watched some of the Ohio State-West Virginia football game.  We saw the play where the West Virginia quarterback was run over by an unobstructed 300 plus pound freight train of a defensive tackle.  Injured his collarbone when the massive vehicle landed on top of him.  Ouch.

Galveston pride.  Happy wife.  Well-exercised body.  Astros baseball.  College football. That’s a great holiday. 

1 Timothy 6:6 says, “But godliness with contentment is great gain.”

Father, thank you for the spirit of resiliency that makes Galveston special.  Amen.