With Whipped Cream

Today, I got the car back at lunch, and had to take it back to the shop by 4. It overheated again. The shop replaced a thermostat or a sensor of some kind, and a seal that had a leak. They even put more antifreeze in it for the winter. I again had Roadrunner in the car, with her boys picked up from school, and she told me that the car still smelled funny, and the boys told us the car was leaking. While driving between the school and the house, I noticed the temperature going up higher than it should have. The car dumped about 3 cups of fluid on Roadrunner's driveway.

We still have the other car, so I am not totally stranded at home, but we have lots of things to do tomorrow, and will be one car short still.

We will be attending the memorial service for my friend's dad who passed away on Tuesday morning. They have made sure to tell everyone to dress casual, so I don't have to find my blackest skirt, or wear uncomfortable shoes. His widow will be happy that we are comfy. He is being cremated, so there will be no viewing, and no trip to the graveside. I think this service will be more of a celebration of a life lived happy, than another funeral for an old guy at church that died. I know his family will be happy with that.

I suppose that my own emotional state is still in question, but I have to support my friends. I could not go to the hospital on Monday. I don't like hospitals, and I was certain that I could not be helpful there. I can do funerals for weeks, but I don't want to see you with tubes hanging off of you. It isn't really a phobia, it's more of an issue of comfort zone.

I hear wine is good for the heart, if taken in moderation. Unfortunately for me, that requires grapes. I don't much like grape juice, and to let it get sour over time in a wooden cask does not improve it. I have, however, found a few select wines that are not so bad.

Oklahoma produces sweeter wines, according to the owner of the winery we have been to a few times. We started going there the first time for a wedding we attended. We have been back for a whim on the spur of the moment, and have been there for a Wine Festival. At the Festival, they sell tasting glasses for $10, and this includes free tastes all day long. We got to try each flavor without buying a whole bottle. I avoided the driest of the reds, but actually liked a few that I was sure I would hate. I wish I had my own pictures. This winery is so very pretty. They have an area outdoors that is set up for weddings, and give free tours of their facilities. They also have local artists, candle makers and musicians at the Festival.

There was a neat little thing that was interesting. They called it a Wine-a-Rita. It was a margarita mix that was made with either white or red wine instead of tequila. I had a tiny little taste of the white one. It was much better than tequila, there is no doubt about it. All slushy goodness. I could see myself getting quite sloshed with a drink like that. Which is why I didn't buy any of it.

Our favorites are (in no particular order or significance): Noble Red, Blush Delight and Fiesta Blanca. We are much happier with the sweet light wines. At the winery, they serve cheeses from an Oklahoma company, but I didn't buy any of it, so I don't remember the name of it. I prefer my cheese from Watonga, Oklahoma. They make cheddar cheese with bits of bacon in it! Yum-O! There is a cheese festival they do. We have talked about going there someday. Maybe next time.

I am not one to promote reckless drinking. I don't drink anything to get an effect. I don't like the buzzed feeling that can come from alcohol. I prefer to taste a little bit. I like to experiment with flavors, not get crazy. The tasting was quite fun for jokes. DH watched his favorite college team lose (they were playing the game to entertain the people who would have been at home otherwise), and told me, "I need a drink!" and went back to get another taste. It was funny, only because it was so out of character for us.

I would encourage anyone who wanted a new experience to go to a local winery and play for a day. You don't have to drink anything to have a good time, and you may come away with a new-found affinity for a certain libation. Just make sure that you buy and drive home to drink. I don't want any accidents because I told you to go to the grapes.

Here's to your health!

Strawberry Divinity

Troubles come in threes.

Mom is doing well, better than expected. Her heart doctor said she could go home Monday, her foot doctor said no until Tuesday around noon. They had done an MRI on her feet, to get more information about what was wrong, and they still had to get those results. I have not talked to her again today to make sure she really did go home, but I am sure she is fine. Her sisters are planning a trip to see her, so I don't have to be the one that must go home. That helps my conscience.

The second trouble was for my friend Cathy. Her dad passed away this morning, from a heart attack (the irony is not lost on me) that he suffered Sunday night. Her mother is going to have a hard time dealing, I think. The funeral will be on Thursday. I ask for prayers for Cathy and her whole family.

The third trouble is that today my car started acting up. On the way home, the low water light came on, and then my temperature gauge went way up. Roadrunner was with me. I took her home and then drove the car to the shop. I will find out tomorrow morning what was wrong. Water pump? Burst hose? Leak in radiator? Whatever it is, I hope it is not expensive. I can say, however, that this is the second time I have had interesting things happen at home when I was planning (hoping) to be out on the road going to New Mexico. I could have had the car die on the open road in the middle of nowhere, or had to have dad help me fix the car in order to get home again. I have had both of those happen before, so I am sure God is watching out for me.

Thanks for all your prayers.

Divine Raspberries

Sometimes, words escape me. (Don't act so shocked!) Sometimes, they overwhelm me. Tonight, words are not enough.

Just this morning in Bible class, we were asked if we ever felt like God spit on us. I know this sounds funny to many of you. It sounded funny to me. We talked about Jesus spitting in the dirt to make mud to heal blindness, not once but twice. "Jesus was a spitter." The thought was bad, but the ensuing conversation made us all gag. The sermon this morning asked a similar question, and I had to emulate (I was quiet!) the snort from forming a good spit. (Bible school teacher and his wife and DH and myself were all quite impressed with my humor and timing.) I seriously could not stop myself. I needed that laugh.

Do you ever feel like you get spat upon when expecting a different kind of healing? I feel a small bit like that this weekend.

I recently asked for prayers for my father, and now I need them for my mother. Mom had a mild heart attack on Friday. She will be in the hospital until after some tests on Monday. She is diabetic, and has sores on her feet from walking too much at work. The doctor was contemplating how to save her feet without amputating a pinkie toe, but those thoughts had to be put on hold when she went to the Emergency Room for her heart.

Asking for prayers for someone else is easy. I forget to ask them for myself. I am stressed again. I really don't like fidgeting from such a long distance. My friend said this morning that "hovering is so much better". She's right. She speaks volumes of wisdom from experience.

Living so far away from my family is a hard decision I made many years ago. My parents' health was much better back then. I have a hard time when friends, and even my husband, get to see their families so often. It starkly reminds me of my humanity, and the 100% mortality rate we share. I know it is the way of nature to bury our parents, but I don't want to have to do that just yet. I guess you could call it selfishness, or maybe it is more laziness or poverty. I just don't have the emotional wellbeing to watch my parents fail. They have worked so hard all these years, to make a good life for me and my brother, and to support themselves in their golden age. Sickness has ruined so much of that.

I think I have said too much. I did not say that I was at a loss for words tonight. Words are not enough, because my heart is crying out to God, and my mind has no idea of what words fit that. I am glad that I have the Holy Spirit to be my thesaurus for prayer.

The rain is falling. It smells wonderful. Wet, noisy, clean, cool and refreshing. I have an intense desire to go out barefoot and jump in a puddle. My yard is certainly a swamp by now, I should go dance and sing in the rain. Where is my umbrella? I need to have it to do the dance properly, right?

Is this Jesus' spit in the healing mud?