...horrors...

Houston. Rockport. Surrounding cities and towns. Utter chaos. Devastation. HORROR. Hurricane Harvey HORRORS.

I’m talking homes and vehicles gone. Lives lost. Snakes. Alligators. Floating beds of fire ants. (If you’ve never seen what a floating fireant bed looks like—Google it. Our oldest son said those give him the creeps and shivers as much as the alligators and snakes.) Keepsakes and memories destroyed. I’m talking hungry, wet, cold, exhausted, frightened, sick, thirsty men, women, children, babies, animals. Lives changed forever. FOREVER.

Fortunately for My Sweet Hubby (MSH), TLC and me, our sons (her four brothers) and their wives and kids, who all live in Houston, are fine. One is still stuck in his home. But it’s two-story and today he says things are looking up. The youngest—who is an ER doctor—says the hospitals are a whole different kind of nightmare. So many people needing medical attention. He's pooped. But working as hard as he can to help.

As we’ve watched it all on television, seen our sons’ pictures and read their texts, we’ve gone in and out of all of these feelings and emotions: Shock. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Disbelief. Sheer JOY—when watching and listening to the Grace, Love and Kindness of Strangers. MORE SADNESS. Hopelessness. Then HIGH HOPES. Then more all-consuming SADNESS.

I don’t understand hurricanes. Flooding. Tornadoes. Natural disasters. Mother Nature at her WORST. Mother Nature being PSYCHOTIC. I haven’t found anyone who really does understand these unbelievable and horrific events. At 63, I try to tell myself to stop trying to understand. Understanding will never happen. Not here on Earth.

But I do believe in God. And the power and strength of the human spirit. I must. I do. So does MSH. TLC. We believe with all of our hearts and souls that someday we will know the answers to this incredible pain.

So we keep praying. Hoping. Encouraging. Praying. Attempting acceptance. We all must pray for the victims of Harvey to stay determined to move onward. Forward. Steadily. With determination that cannot waver.

If you’ve not been affected by Hurricane Harvey, you’re blessed. If you’ve never been affected by a natural disaster, you are double blessed. I've only seen the damage these weather extremes have unleashed on this World. Let's all, please, thank God right now we're lucky if we haven't gone through any of these firsthand. And PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE pray for the people of Houston, Rockport, South Texas coastal cities and Texas and Louisiana cities and towns even hundreds of miles away. They all need our constant prayers. They'll need them for a long, long time.

ELC

why harvey???

Why? Why couldn’t you have just stayed out in the Gulf and chilled?

This dadgum hurricane fortunately doesn’t affect My Sweet Hubby (MSH) and me. Or TLC and her Gang. We’re far enough north to only be looking at some possible rain. (Or so “they” say! Those weather forecasters who don’t always get it right, right?) But it does affect our four sons and their families. They all live in Houston. Well, okay. That’s not exactly the 100% truth.

The two oldest live in Houston. The third son has an apartment in Houston and is there every other week. But he works in New York City.  He is currently in Houston. Our youngest son (TLC is our youngest child and only daughter) and his wife actually live in Scottsdale, Arizona. He’s an ER doctor that works in Houston several days every month. He’s also there now.

All say they are fine! The potential problem is the rain is not going to stop. For days. And days. Or…so “they” say.

MSH and I continue to pray to Our Lord God Almighty that the flooding doesn’t happen. That it’s minimal. Or that the predicted torrential rains miraculously stop! That the weather peeps are wrong. As they’ve often been in the past.

Time will tell. (There are already too many heartbreaking stories on TV. So. Difficult. To. Watch.)

Meanwhile, MSH and I had a different kind of week! We escaped to Louisiana! Our get-away was to be for two nights. Three days. It turned into one night. I won’t bore y’all with the details of our change in plans. I’ll only say that we had FUN. Much to TLC’s shock, we were happy with our choice to end it sooner than we intended. We ended up coming home the second night but then, On Thursday, took our time to look, all day, at some places/towns we’ll consider as a possible new home for us. When (and if?) our place sells in the next few weeks. Or months?

Time will tell on this, too…SIGH.

I’m heading, after lunch, to see My Girls! TLC and Her Hubby have plans for a Date Night in their new hometown. It involves lots of yummy food and a movie…in a City Park. (Assuming it won’t get rained out…) So Grammy ELC will be a Nanny tonight! I keep forgetting My Girls are 45 minutes closer and that I don’t have to allow two hours to travel to their casa. This is lovely! Wow. I’ll be home by noon-ish manana.

MSH is expecting his youngest sister to come for dinner—possibly spend the night. She’s helping her oldest grandchild (and only granddaughter) move back into her dorm at the State University in our sweet (soon to be ex? sniffy sniff...) hometown. She’s lives in Austin—and Austin is in the path of major rain and flooding.

Time will tell on whether her visit will happen or if she’ll feel she needs to get back home as quickly as possible today.

Sending each of you HUGS and my best wishes  this Saturday morn for safety, good health, happiness and NO FLOODING rains in your life…

smooches and ta-ta for now, Dearest Friends...

...along the path of Life...

From Jesus Today, by Sarah Young:

WAIT WITH ME FOR A WHILE. I have much to tell you. You are walking along the path I have chosen for you. It is both a privileged and a perilous way: experiencing My glorious Presence and heralding that reality to others. Sometimes you feel presumptuous to be carrying out such an assignment.

Do not worry about what other people think of you. The work I am doing in you is hidden at first. But eventually blossoms will burst forth, and abundant fruit will be born. Stay on the path of Life with Me. Trust Me wholeheartedly, letting My Spirit fill you with Joy and Peace.

1 KINGS 8:23; GALATIANS 5:22-23

I loved reading this when I woke this morning! Drew and I headed south early yesterday to have a good visit and lunch with our precious and Darling Liz. She’s having surgery at the end of the week and we wanted to give her encouraging hugs. Share our love for and admiration of her beautiful heart, soul and spirit. We had a GREAT time! Lots of laughs. Lots of empathy, sympathy, advice (unsolicited, of course!) and compassion for each other. A Day of Celebration for our many, many years of friendship.

While we were On the Road, TLC and her family went to the church they believe they’ll eventually join and had a wonderful experience. Little Leighton pranced right on in to her Sunday School class. Brave. Ready to meet new friends and learn about Jesus. Baby Elle had no clue what was about to hit her—as she was left in the Nursery. She did FANTASTIC—for an Angel Baby who’d not been left with anyone in her little life except her Grammy and Pa-Pa! TLC continues to unpack boxes and they proceed, hourly, on settling into their new home. Their new life. Their new “path.”

My Sweet Hubby (MSH) and I are preparing to get our country home and casa spic-and-span clean, organized, de-cluttered, and ready to be put on the market. I don’t think I’ve talked about this yet. It’s something incredibly difficult for me. Every time my mind tries to go to the work we need to do and the new adventures we need to embrace, I cry. I tremble with uncertainty, fear, and deep, gut-wrenching sadness. When we bought this place and built our home 17 ½ years ago, we never expected to sell it and move somewhere else. The reality of our aging—the work involved in keeping it up—the distance we are from TLC and, frankly, many of our doctors and hospitals (Yep, you must think about that when you get older…and older…), hits us too often now.

We don’t know how long it’ll take to find the right buyer. May be fast. Could be quite slow. We’ve got faith it’ll happen according to Our Lord God’s plans for us. We’ll practice patience. (I’m sure some days those "patience" efforts will be harder to accomplish than on others…SIGH…)


We’ll believe in His timing. However, we’ll be beyond heartbroken if, and/or when, we must drive away from Our Sanctuary to a new house. MUST. STOP. NOW. To find a tissue.


Have a WONDERFUL WEEK—wherever in this World each of you lives and loves and works and plays! Be safe. Be kind. Stay on your path. (Okay. Okay. Take a few detours if you're so moved!)
ta-tafornow,
ELC

so this is what it's come to?

Aging. Until you’ve reached your 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s or 90s, you think you get it: Getting older will be challenging and somewhat/sometimes difficult. But, truly, you have to reach those ages to understand. To totally and completely comprehend what’s happening. What’s involved.

I can remember, when I was a teenager in high school, thinking that 30 was going to be old. THIRTY. Oh, Lawdy. Sheesh.

40? I didn’t hate it. However, two months after I turned 40? I was diagnosed with breast cancer and had to have a modified radical mastectomy of my left breast. Chemo. Three implant surgeries. (I then had two more implant surgeries over the next 12 years. I’m fairly certain I’ve needed a newer-model-fourth permanent implant for at least seven or eight years. I cannot bring myself to go down that road.) Therefore, 40 ended up being a BIG stumbling block.

When I turned 50? I said to myself: Geez, Self, this aging thing is getting REAL. Really scary. Really annoying.  

(All the while I’m aging, My Sweet Hubby—MSH—is, too. He’s ten years older than moi. He’s been willing and able to prepare me—somewhat—for each new decade I’ve reached. Although he can be fairly negative about it all...)

60? Again...with much greater emphasis..SHEESH. That one hit me. SIXTY. Yikes. Two months later? MSH=SEVENTY. Double Yikes.

Now I’m 63. I’ve lost 33 pounds in the past 6 ½ months. I’m getting healthier than I’ve been in years. Maybe than I’ve been all my life? I’m walking better than I have in at least five years. I’m dealing with/accepting wrinkles. Aches. Pains. Saggy things. Etc.

So yesterday morning, I went to town to my GP’s office for my annual bloodwork. I’d seen her for my actual checkup last week. She was PROUD of my weight loss. Anxious, like me, to see what my numbers are going to be—specifically my cholesterol levels. (They’ve been deteriorating for the past five years. She hasn’t put me on meds yet. For which I’m grateful.) I’ve been prepared, however, each year, for her to say: “Sorry, ELC. It’s time for more pills.” (I currently only take ONE prescription medication! Now, listen up, Kiddos: That ain’t bad for someone of my years.

I fasted after midnight Tuesday. Skipped my Diet Dew and Premier Protein Shake. Became surprised how NOT HUNGRY I actually was—at 8:15 a.m. The nurse took one vial and I went on my merry way.

Also, yesterday was the first day of the new public school year in our hometown. I needed to drop some clothes at our Cleaners and chose to drive down the street where the high school and “intermediate” school is located. Intermediate was 4^th, 5^th and 6^th grades when TLC was a student there. I’m not sure if it is still those grades—since she’s our youngest and we’ve had no grandchildren that have lived or grown up in our town.

I felt…hmmm…melancholy. A bit teary. I could remember so very much about TLC’s school years. From literally FOUR years of pre-school to kindergarten through to 12^th grade. Teachers. Friends. Bad stuff. Good stuff. Then I thought about our two oldest grandchildren who are headed to college. Our five others at different “school” stages in their sweet lives. Our third oldest grandchild will be in 8^th grade. The next? 3^rd grade. The next? 1^st grade. Little Leighton (aka LL aka Biscuit) will be starting kindergarten at a church school next week—but TLC plans to hold her back one more year. (Not sure when Biscuit will understand this decision. Hoping it won’t upset her—down the line—when she realizes she’s technically a year behind.) Baby Elle (aka Belle)? A year away from beginning pre-school. We’ll all blink and that time will be here. We’ll blink again and she’ll be graduating from high school!

This aging Grammy? Sad. Happy! Fearful. EXCITED! Praying MSH and I continue to be strong and healthy enough to actually participate in our grandchildren’s lives! Praying we have MANY MORE years on this cRaZy, and, frankly, too-often frightening, Earth!

Now one of my 63-year-old REALITIES:

It's happened. I have to have help shaving my legs. (Not all of each leg. 95% of them.) I kid y’all not. This is NOT an easy thing for me to admit. (TLC will be mortified when she reads this. It is what it is, TLC. You’ve known most of your life I’m not afraid to talk about lots of subjects!) I simply cannot move my body, back, neck, hips, legs, and arms sufficiently “around” to get my ankles shaved. Not without cutting myself. Which I did three times last week.

So here’s My Solution:

MSH simply has to assist me. Last Thursday was his first day. I wasn’t thrilled about asking him. Hey, after over 40 years together? It’s certainly not the worst thing he’s ever had to do for me. Or the worst thing he’s ever seen! (And vice versa.)

Please do me a favor, You Younguns:

Pray he can continue to see WTHeck he’s doing! Because TLC is surely going to try to NOT inherit his obligation if HE starts cutting my ankles.

My BEST wishes to each of you, from My Texas Country Casa, this Terrific Thursday evening! Enjoy every single second you are under the age of 40. Or 50. Or 60. Or 70. Or 80. Or 90. Whatever age seems “OLD” to you! ‘kay?

Hugs,

ELC