A Tribute to Authors
First, a quote from Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life ~
"For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a mircle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die."
Oh, Anne. Oh, you guys. That expresses my feelings about books and reading SO WELL.
I have loved books - and reading - all my life. This quote says so well what my emotional response to words is like; they're as necessary as food, water, vitamins and love. As required as breathing. Books help me heal when I'm down and make me laugh and lift me up. Books let me share an author's thoughts and feelings and adventures (which I only want to share vicariously) and genius; they make me cry, love, think ... FEEL. There is nothing so satisfactory to a reader as the beauty of a phrase, a well thought out metaphor or simile, a snarky comment by the MC, a unique relationship, a surprising but satisfactory end, a story that touches the heart. And then becomes ... unforgettable. A classic.
I'm thankful for books - especially for the greatest Book of all, and its Author - and for writers who as such brilliant wordsmiths, share their gift with readers. Whether they're hurled out, gently placed, messy, suspenseful or delightfully funny, I love their words. I "see" the graphic pictures in my head and live vicariously, until the last page is turned, in the world of those characters.
I'm thankful for Courtney - who allows me to move her commas around, un-dangle her particples and unite her infinitives (which tumble from her super creative, genius brain in beautiful draft form) and even swap a word here and there. She let's me SHARE her writing process. Oh, how satisfactory it is - the joy, the fun, the creation of, the WRITING (I have the fun and she does all the hard work, I hasten to add), the inspiration of it all. And I'm thankful for a family who fosters my love for books. For my parents who always, always found money for books even when money was short everywhere else, and for Ron and Matt who are always ready to "talk books."
It's such a community. The one inside our heads. The ability to share what's tumbling around in there. The blessing of meeting other writers ... who UNDERSTAND, who "get it." I enjoy it so!
It seems very appropriate to post my tribute today. This afternoon the hubs and I will see The Hunger Games (we're too "old" to attend midnight premiers - we like to watch our movies, not "nap" through them). I'm excited in a very impatient, can't wait kind of way, but I want to SAY OUT LOUD: this is not just a movie. REMEMBER! The Hunger Games started Life as a book, a series of books. I can't help but think of Suzanne Collins - did she dream that one day the words she thought of and put on paper, words that conjured such graphic images for her readers, would end up on the big screen? I wonder how it felt to let her words go out of her heart and into the hands of actors and actresses for their interpretation (not to mention directors and all the general, digital geekiness that's involved in making a good movie). What if they didn't 'get it.' Must be scary, and at the same time, very wonderful.
But yes, scary.
The movie reviews are good. The writers I know, those who saw it last night, liked it, loved it, were awed by it. I'll probably feel that way, too. But my hat's off to you, Suzanne Collins! Thank you for creating Katniss and Peeta and Gale, all the characters (and yes, even Haymitch) and for allowing us to share their World!
Thank you, Authors, for sharing your incredible imagination; you inspire us, entertain us and make us feel.
Salute!
PS later that night - the movie version of The Hunger Games did not disappoint! We loved it!
Friday, March 23, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Whatever Happened to Winter?
Whatever Happened to Winter?
SPRING, as measured by the calendar, at least, is a couple days away and it looks as if ... it really looks like Winter 'snuck' into our neck of the woods when we had our heads turned and just ... left. One or two hard freezes. A 'barely there' dusting of snow. Hemmed in by many more days of mild weather so that we forgot when. And hmm. And that was about it.
Folks kept sitting around talking about Winter as if it was some ancient relative who might one day come for a visit.
You just wait, we've had some of our coldest winters in January. Then, February's always been one of our coldest months. We had us some doozy snowstorms in February. Or, Hey, y'all remember that time we came out of church in March, and there was three inches of snow on the ground?
Not happening. Somehow, Winter skipped us this year.
I'm a daily walker, and I enjoy walking in all kinds of weather, because I have the right gear. During past winters, I used my "all-weather" walking gear most days of the winter. My walking partner and I walked when the temperature was below freezing. We sloshed through fallen snow and skirted frozen rain puddles. This past "winter," I didn't even take the long underwear out of the drawer. Not once. Not saying it was never cold. Just making the point that regular winter coats, scarves, earmuffs and gloves did the trick.
So Spring is here. Nature knows it regardless of what the calendar might say. Redbuds, pears, plums, dogwoods, forsythias, hawthorns - all in full bloom. Flowers have been doing their glorious thing for weeks. Along with ... yep, weeds, clover and crabgrass. Frogs and the song of the early bird seeking his worm mingle with the roar of lawmowers and weedeaters! And I am basking in this warm, sunny and beautiful Spring.
But wait.
It's the middle of March and - as for most of this past week - the high today will be in the eighties.
Spring? Is this really YOU? Have you, like Brother Winter, just made a lightning quick visit and gone merrily on your way?
As my GPS says ... RECALCULATING ... RECALCULATING ...
Hello, Summer. (grins happily and goes outside to dig in the ground and plant stuff)
SPRING, as measured by the calendar, at least, is a couple days away and it looks as if ... it really looks like Winter 'snuck' into our neck of the woods when we had our heads turned and just ... left. One or two hard freezes. A 'barely there' dusting of snow. Hemmed in by many more days of mild weather so that we forgot when. And hmm. And that was about it.
Folks kept sitting around talking about Winter as if it was some ancient relative who might one day come for a visit.
You just wait, we've had some of our coldest winters in January. Then, February's always been one of our coldest months. We had us some doozy snowstorms in February. Or, Hey, y'all remember that time we came out of church in March, and there was three inches of snow on the ground?
Not happening. Somehow, Winter skipped us this year.
I'm a daily walker, and I enjoy walking in all kinds of weather, because I have the right gear. During past winters, I used my "all-weather" walking gear most days of the winter. My walking partner and I walked when the temperature was below freezing. We sloshed through fallen snow and skirted frozen rain puddles. This past "winter," I didn't even take the long underwear out of the drawer. Not once. Not saying it was never cold. Just making the point that regular winter coats, scarves, earmuffs and gloves did the trick.
So Spring is here. Nature knows it regardless of what the calendar might say. Redbuds, pears, plums, dogwoods, forsythias, hawthorns - all in full bloom. Flowers have been doing their glorious thing for weeks. Along with ... yep, weeds, clover and crabgrass. Frogs and the song of the early bird seeking his worm mingle with the roar of lawmowers and weedeaters! And I am basking in this warm, sunny and beautiful Spring.
But wait.
It's the middle of March and - as for most of this past week - the high today will be in the eighties.
Spring? Is this really YOU? Have you, like Brother Winter, just made a lightning quick visit and gone merrily on your way?
As my GPS says ... RECALCULATING ... RECALCULATING ...
Hello, Summer. (grins happily and goes outside to dig in the ground and plant stuff)
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Misinformation, Outright Lies and Unconditional Love
There's a campfire song by Kurt Kaiser ('69) that most church camp attenders of a certain age have heard at least once. "It only takes a spark to get a fire going- and soon all those around can warm up in its glowing." The implication is how quickly a tiny spark can start a big, old roaring fire - that's a positive thing, right? - the spark is good; the fire is good; the glow is something you want to warm yourself in. We're talking LOVE, here ... the spark stands for love and the fire stands for a whole lot of love. All good stuff.
Hmmm.
But what if the spark is not about love? What if it's a tiny little bit of ... gossip?
More than that ... what if the spark is a tiny little bit of INCORRECT information? Maybe it's not that tiny even. Maybe ... not intentional, just repeated wrong. They repeated it as XXX when she only said XX. He said YY instead of YX. She told him instead of her. He overheard Purple when it was really Pink. They said no instead of NO.
Or ... what if the listener heard it correctly and then just flat out LIED when he/she repeated what was said? IF it happened in the Garden way back then, it can happen in your school, your workplace, your family ... your church.
The truth is, it's been going on since the dawn of time.
So what to do? How to deal?
Some thoughts.
1. There WILL be confrontational situations caused from any of the above within any group.
2. There are several types of people in any group: Those who like confrontations (and/or start them, live for them, get their kicks from them), those who run from confrontations (i.e. abandon you with mud on your face) and those who try to ride the fence (switch sides according to which way the ill wind blows; save their own skins and let yours burn) ... and all these types CAN keep the pot stirred. (Can, not have to ... it's a choice). And then add the rational types who try to think things through and make up their minds on an issue without being influenced by those who would make trouble.
3..Each of the above may at any given time show attributes of any or all of these given types. None of us are perfect people!
4. The best way to handle confrontations is A.) diffuse situations before they brew and B.) learn to manage them when they do.
Easily said. Not so easily done.
Back to the title. The 'Unconditional Love' part.
Christians are commanded to show they're Christians by their love. A guest pastor said this morning that we're called to love our "neighbors" (colleagues, church members, friends, family members etc)as OURSELVES unconditionally. He said I may not LIKE everything he/she does, and I certainly may not agree with his opinion in every matter, and that's okay, but (and this is the biggie ) I still have to love him. And you know what, I'm free to tell him I don't agree with him - in fact, I should tell him (not every one else BUT him - that's where the gossip comes in), but I must not demean myself or him in the manner of doing so ... that means I want to live with myself afterwards. Just as I need to live/work with the other person afterwards ... in whatever organization or family we're in together. Because there's a tomorrow after our disagreement, and I don't want to burn all the boats. There's more to accomplish; more streets to cross, more bridges to span. We may agree on far more than we disagree. (paraphrased)
I'm thinking about this rationally right now. Here, today ... because this is not the 'heat' of a moment. Today is not the day when a confrontation has sucked out my brain aps and inflicted heart wounds from which I may not recover so quickly. Now is the time for me to think ahead and figure how to best manage a confrontation.
I have a choice. (As you have a choice.)
It's a decision I will choose to make ... how I handle disagreement ... just as forgiveness is a decision I choose when I've been hurt. Weigh these options ... carry a grudge (and act accordingly) or forgive (and act accordingly).
The response to obedience should NOT be to wait until I feel the emotion of forgiveness and then forgive. (There have been times, when, if I'd waited to FEEL forgiveness, I might never have forgiven anyone!) So the correct response when I've hurt someone else? Go to them. Ask their forgiveness. Do it. Afraid? Oh, yeah. What if they're still mad? It's always a possibility. But I'm not responsible for them. (Forgive them for that, too... love 'em, anyway.) Just do it.
And that's what unconditional love is about.
Whatever the condition, love. They did the wrong, love 'em anyway. They didn't mean to, love 'em. They meant to, love 'em. They said they were sorry, love 'em. They didn't say they were sorry, love 'em. They will never EVER say they're sorry ... love them anyway. You were wrong, and now you're sorry and they won't forgive you, love them anyway.
Because, you see, YOU are the only person YOU control. It is only you yourself that you are responsible for in that way. There's stuff in scripture about making excuses, and God made Himself pretty clear about it. Somehow, I don't believe He's going to accept, "But he did it, too." I know my mother never did (every kid knows the classic parental lecture, "So, if she jumped off a two-story building, would you do it, too???")
So. Think about it. Gird yourself in your Unconditional Love-gear.
(and you'll be better able to handle the misinformation and the outright lies)
There's a campfire song by Kurt Kaiser ('69) that most church camp attenders of a certain age have heard at least once. "It only takes a spark to get a fire going- and soon all those around can warm up in its glowing." The implication is how quickly a tiny spark can start a big, old roaring fire - that's a positive thing, right? - the spark is good; the fire is good; the glow is something you want to warm yourself in. We're talking LOVE, here ... the spark stands for love and the fire stands for a whole lot of love. All good stuff.
Hmmm.
But what if the spark is not about love? What if it's a tiny little bit of ... gossip?
More than that ... what if the spark is a tiny little bit of INCORRECT information? Maybe it's not that tiny even. Maybe ... not intentional, just repeated wrong. They repeated it as XXX when she only said XX. He said YY instead of YX. She told him instead of her. He overheard Purple when it was really Pink. They said no instead of NO.
Or ... what if the listener heard it correctly and then just flat out LIED when he/she repeated what was said? IF it happened in the Garden way back then, it can happen in your school, your workplace, your family ... your church.
The truth is, it's been going on since the dawn of time.
So what to do? How to deal?
Some thoughts.
1. There WILL be confrontational situations caused from any of the above within any group.
2. There are several types of people in any group: Those who like confrontations (and/or start them, live for them, get their kicks from them), those who run from confrontations (i.e. abandon you with mud on your face) and those who try to ride the fence (switch sides according to which way the ill wind blows; save their own skins and let yours burn) ... and all these types CAN keep the pot stirred. (Can, not have to ... it's a choice). And then add the rational types who try to think things through and make up their minds on an issue without being influenced by those who would make trouble.
3..Each of the above may at any given time show attributes of any or all of these given types. None of us are perfect people!
4. The best way to handle confrontations is A.) diffuse situations before they brew and B.) learn to manage them when they do.
Easily said. Not so easily done.
Back to the title. The 'Unconditional Love' part.
Christians are commanded to show they're Christians by their love. A guest pastor said this morning that we're called to love our "neighbors" (colleagues, church members, friends, family members etc)as OURSELVES unconditionally. He said I may not LIKE everything he/she does, and I certainly may not agree with his opinion in every matter, and that's okay, but (and this is the biggie ) I still have to love him. And you know what, I'm free to tell him I don't agree with him - in fact, I should tell him (not every one else BUT him - that's where the gossip comes in), but I must not demean myself or him in the manner of doing so ... that means I want to live with myself afterwards. Just as I need to live/work with the other person afterwards ... in whatever organization or family we're in together. Because there's a tomorrow after our disagreement, and I don't want to burn all the boats. There's more to accomplish; more streets to cross, more bridges to span. We may agree on far more than we disagree. (paraphrased)
I'm thinking about this rationally right now. Here, today ... because this is not the 'heat' of a moment. Today is not the day when a confrontation has sucked out my brain aps and inflicted heart wounds from which I may not recover so quickly. Now is the time for me to think ahead and figure how to best manage a confrontation.
I have a choice. (As you have a choice.)
It's a decision I will choose to make ... how I handle disagreement ... just as forgiveness is a decision I choose when I've been hurt. Weigh these options ... carry a grudge (and act accordingly) or forgive (and act accordingly).
The response to obedience should NOT be to wait until I feel the emotion of forgiveness and then forgive. (There have been times, when, if I'd waited to FEEL forgiveness, I might never have forgiven anyone!) So the correct response when I've hurt someone else? Go to them. Ask their forgiveness. Do it. Afraid? Oh, yeah. What if they're still mad? It's always a possibility. But I'm not responsible for them. (Forgive them for that, too... love 'em, anyway.) Just do it.
And that's what unconditional love is about.
Whatever the condition, love. They did the wrong, love 'em anyway. They didn't mean to, love 'em. They meant to, love 'em. They said they were sorry, love 'em. They didn't say they were sorry, love 'em. They will never EVER say they're sorry ... love them anyway. You were wrong, and now you're sorry and they won't forgive you, love them anyway.
Because, you see, YOU are the only person YOU control. It is only you yourself that you are responsible for in that way. There's stuff in scripture about making excuses, and God made Himself pretty clear about it. Somehow, I don't believe He's going to accept, "But he did it, too." I know my mother never did (every kid knows the classic parental lecture, "So, if she jumped off a two-story building, would you do it, too???")
So. Think about it. Gird yourself in your Unconditional Love-gear.
(and you'll be better able to handle the misinformation and the outright lies)
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
I'm Not an Extrovert, But I Play One in Life.
Many years ago, there was a commercial where the actor who played a doctor on a weekly TV show recommended some over-the-counter drug. "I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV." The drug company used his name recognition and "expertise" to sell their product, and the quote quickly gained recognition in TV commerical history. Today it's paraphrased and made fun of - anyone of "a certain age" recognizes it.
I'm not an extrovert, but I play one in life. I can fake it with the best of them.
But deep down inside, I'm anything but.
Do NOT ask me to speak in front of a group. Don't ask me to lead a group.
Don't put me in charge. Of ANYTHING.
BUT. But. ... You were a teacher.
Yeah. Right.
But my little charges were FIVE or SIX YEARS Old. What did they know? I was always bigger than they were. And stronger (for the most part.) And they thought I created the heavens and the earth (for the most part).
And people who know me are bent double right now ... laughing ... with, probably, a stitch in their sides ... because ... I talk a lot. In front of people. Yeah, I know. I have a hard time with that. I start out saying I'm going to KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT this time. I am. I really am. But then ... well, I just have to ask something that occurs to me. And then ... something else. And then ... but it's not the same. That's not SPEAKING. That's not LEADING. That's not being in charge. Hey, I'll HELP anyone. I'll follow the leader. I'll facilitate ... BUT DO NOT.. DO NOT put me in charge. Because then ... the ideas dry up. The thoughts do not come. The nerves do weird things. And it is NOT. FUN. I admire people who can just pick up the phone and DO. They say this and ask that and things happen. STUFF gets done and miracles unfold and it looks so easy. I know people like that. They're just not me.They even call me sometimes and when they do, I even have ideas. As long as I'm not the one in charge. (especially if what has to be done must take place in a kitchen. Then, oh DEAR LORD, help the one who needs food, because I surely can't).
Sometimes, I initiate something, because, darn it, the Lord just WILL NOT let me off the hook, but I always think He must be desperate when that happens.
I suppose you might be wondering what this post is all about. See, the hubs read the title of my blog ... Anabellynn Occasionally Says Something.
He snickered.
Yes, he did.
"That's a blatent lie," he pointed out.
"What," I asked.
He just looked at me.
Oh.
Occasionally. SAYS something.
Okay, I PROBABLY should have titled it Writes something. Occasionally Writes something.
Isn't he a sweetie?
Many years ago, there was a commercial where the actor who played a doctor on a weekly TV show recommended some over-the-counter drug. "I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV." The drug company used his name recognition and "expertise" to sell their product, and the quote quickly gained recognition in TV commerical history. Today it's paraphrased and made fun of - anyone of "a certain age" recognizes it.
I'm not an extrovert, but I play one in life. I can fake it with the best of them.
But deep down inside, I'm anything but.
Do NOT ask me to speak in front of a group. Don't ask me to lead a group.
Don't put me in charge. Of ANYTHING.
BUT. But. ... You were a teacher.
Yeah. Right.
But my little charges were FIVE or SIX YEARS Old. What did they know? I was always bigger than they were. And stronger (for the most part.) And they thought I created the heavens and the earth (for the most part).
And people who know me are bent double right now ... laughing ... with, probably, a stitch in their sides ... because ... I talk a lot. In front of people. Yeah, I know. I have a hard time with that. I start out saying I'm going to KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT this time. I am. I really am. But then ... well, I just have to ask something that occurs to me. And then ... something else. And then ... but it's not the same. That's not SPEAKING. That's not LEADING. That's not being in charge. Hey, I'll HELP anyone. I'll follow the leader. I'll facilitate ... BUT DO NOT.. DO NOT put me in charge. Because then ... the ideas dry up. The thoughts do not come. The nerves do weird things. And it is NOT. FUN. I admire people who can just pick up the phone and DO. They say this and ask that and things happen. STUFF gets done and miracles unfold and it looks so easy. I know people like that. They're just not me.They even call me sometimes and when they do, I even have ideas. As long as I'm not the one in charge. (especially if what has to be done must take place in a kitchen. Then, oh DEAR LORD, help the one who needs food, because I surely can't).
Sometimes, I initiate something, because, darn it, the Lord just WILL NOT let me off the hook, but I always think He must be desperate when that happens.
I suppose you might be wondering what this post is all about. See, the hubs read the title of my blog ... Anabellynn Occasionally Says Something.
He snickered.
Yes, he did.
"That's a blatent lie," he pointed out.
"What," I asked.
He just looked at me.
Oh.
Occasionally. SAYS something.
Okay, I PROBABLY should have titled it Writes something. Occasionally Writes something.
Isn't he a sweetie?
Saturday, March 3, 2012
First Blog.
My muse is a tornado.
An EF2, according to the National Weather Service. It hopped, skipped and jumped through our small town. It missed us, but five houses down the street, it did some damage. Across the field, it tore the steeple from the roof of our church.
It missed us. Not a shingle out of place. Not a limb from a tree. Nothing.
It just seemed to me that warrants ... something.
So I decided to start a blog.
We have a weather radio. And we sleep upstairs. Common sense says Don't. Sleep. Upstairs. if you KNOW severe weather may produce an overnight tornado. But the timing of the coming storm should have allowed us most of a night's sleep, so we elected to enjoy the comfort of our own bed and to trust the weather radio to wake us in time. And it did. At one minute before five a.m. the blare of the siren screamed out a tornado warning; we jumped up and headed down to our 'safe place' under the reinforced stairwell, which we keep prepared with chairs, flashlights, extra batteries, radio, pillows, blankets, and ... you get the picture. And we waited - having had the forethought to turn on the coffeemaker ... in relative comfort - while we listened to the storm report on TV. Okay. It's not that comfortable. And nothing was happening. It wasn't even windy. After fifteen minutes we were pretty sure nothing was going to happen where we were. The weather map showed it had passed us. Another cup of coffee and we started planning our day. Whew. Sighs of relief. Glad we had the weather radio. Had the newspaper arrived yet?
And then the phone rang. "Are you okay? Is your power out?"
The really weird thing is, we didn't feel anything. And it was right down the street. Right across the field. If it hadn't been dark, we could have seen the funnel. We were fine and our lights didn't even flicker. Not once. (and sometimes our lights flicker if a breeze hiccups).
Of COURSE, we got out in the car to see what had happened around us. You can't NOT do that when you live in a small community (I don't care who you are). Thankfully, there were no injuries in our little town. Not to people. Cows and chickens took a big hit though. Which means farmers will pay. Debris from the chicken barns was everywhere (and there's this THING, I don't know what it IS, that goes out in the fields without harming the field, even when it's wet, and just retrieves all that metal - it's like a miracle to a non-farmer like me). Carports in view of my house flew away. Siding ripped off. The steeple from my church, gone. On a lighter note ... there's not a trampoline left in town. Above ground pools didn't fare well either. And a sad note ... three homes were completely destroyed. Miraculously, the people in them lived. I saw the rubble and marveled. Folks crawled out. They were cut out. They lost everything. But they lived. Silos were destroyed. Barns collapsed. But people lived.
And some of us lost nothing.
They're talking about 'survivor guilt' on TV. They were actually speaking of folks in those hard hit towns where dozens of houses were destroyed, and there were so many fatalities in this deadly outbreak of tornadoes. About folks who survived but their neighbors didn't. They weren't talking about people like us.
But I understand the guilt. We drove by one of those flattened homes this afternoon. A woman was just standing there. Just looking at the mess. Insulation. Jumbles of stuff. Rubble. Broken things. Unidentifiable things that had possibly been hers. I didn't know her, but I wondered by the set of her shoulders if she'd lived there. And I was so sorry. I wondered, as we drove down the road back to our house, who would help HER clean up. We'll donate. We'll help the relief effort. But who will help HER?
March roared in like a lion. I pray it will be content to let that be IT for the entire month.
End. Blog One.
My muse is a tornado.
An EF2, according to the National Weather Service. It hopped, skipped and jumped through our small town. It missed us, but five houses down the street, it did some damage. Across the field, it tore the steeple from the roof of our church.
It missed us. Not a shingle out of place. Not a limb from a tree. Nothing.
It just seemed to me that warrants ... something.
So I decided to start a blog.
We have a weather radio. And we sleep upstairs. Common sense says Don't. Sleep. Upstairs. if you KNOW severe weather may produce an overnight tornado. But the timing of the coming storm should have allowed us most of a night's sleep, so we elected to enjoy the comfort of our own bed and to trust the weather radio to wake us in time. And it did. At one minute before five a.m. the blare of the siren screamed out a tornado warning; we jumped up and headed down to our 'safe place' under the reinforced stairwell, which we keep prepared with chairs, flashlights, extra batteries, radio, pillows, blankets, and ... you get the picture. And we waited - having had the forethought to turn on the coffeemaker ... in relative comfort - while we listened to the storm report on TV. Okay. It's not that comfortable. And nothing was happening. It wasn't even windy. After fifteen minutes we were pretty sure nothing was going to happen where we were. The weather map showed it had passed us. Another cup of coffee and we started planning our day. Whew. Sighs of relief. Glad we had the weather radio. Had the newspaper arrived yet?
And then the phone rang. "Are you okay? Is your power out?"
The really weird thing is, we didn't feel anything. And it was right down the street. Right across the field. If it hadn't been dark, we could have seen the funnel. We were fine and our lights didn't even flicker. Not once. (and sometimes our lights flicker if a breeze hiccups).
Of COURSE, we got out in the car to see what had happened around us. You can't NOT do that when you live in a small community (I don't care who you are). Thankfully, there were no injuries in our little town. Not to people. Cows and chickens took a big hit though. Which means farmers will pay. Debris from the chicken barns was everywhere (and there's this THING, I don't know what it IS, that goes out in the fields without harming the field, even when it's wet, and just retrieves all that metal - it's like a miracle to a non-farmer like me). Carports in view of my house flew away. Siding ripped off. The steeple from my church, gone. On a lighter note ... there's not a trampoline left in town. Above ground pools didn't fare well either. And a sad note ... three homes were completely destroyed. Miraculously, the people in them lived. I saw the rubble and marveled. Folks crawled out. They were cut out. They lost everything. But they lived. Silos were destroyed. Barns collapsed. But people lived.
And some of us lost nothing.
They're talking about 'survivor guilt' on TV. They were actually speaking of folks in those hard hit towns where dozens of houses were destroyed, and there were so many fatalities in this deadly outbreak of tornadoes. About folks who survived but their neighbors didn't. They weren't talking about people like us.
But I understand the guilt. We drove by one of those flattened homes this afternoon. A woman was just standing there. Just looking at the mess. Insulation. Jumbles of stuff. Rubble. Broken things. Unidentifiable things that had possibly been hers. I didn't know her, but I wondered by the set of her shoulders if she'd lived there. And I was so sorry. I wondered, as we drove down the road back to our house, who would help HER clean up. We'll donate. We'll help the relief effort. But who will help HER?
March roared in like a lion. I pray it will be content to let that be IT for the entire month.
End. Blog One.
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