Did you ever have a day when everything went wrong? Well, did you ever have a week that went that way? I can’t exactly pinpoint when this actually started, but I remember that morning when the first thing I did was knock the orchid that grandson Joshua gave me two Christmases ago off the end table and splattered it in the floor. Fortunately, the flower was intact in the liner; the vase surrounding it was smashed.
The day snowballed; one thing after another. The power went off without warning. It is amazing how much we depend upon electricity. With a private well, we have no water, as well as no lights, no furnace along with no computer. We limped along that day with candles, propane lantern and pioneer fortitude. Fortunately, we have a natural gas kitchen range, so cooking was no problem. The last word we had from the power company was that the power wouldn’t be back on until 6:30 the next morning. So my long-suffering husband dragged out the generator, lots of extension cords, and hooked them up to the most important appliances. The extension cords were strung all through the house. Just as he was plugging the last appliance in, the power came back on. We were too happy to be aggravated at all the extra trouble.
Then the telephone went out. (Mind you, this was the week before Thanksgiving, and our youngest daughter and family were coming home for the holiday.) My computer died. That was almost the last straw. I felt isolated from the world and helpless. I am beginning to think that we rely too much on technology.
Time passed and I made preparations to do some holiday baking. We were planning to go to our son Michael’s for Thanksgiving dinner, but I didn’t want to go empty-handed. Matthew had given me a nice orange pumpkin from his garden (not the cow pumpkin variety) which I cooked in the microwave oven until it was soft, and then I scraped out the pulp. Placing the pulp in the mixer, I turned it on and left it to do something else. When I returned to the kitchen, I found orange pumpkin all over the counter, running down the cabinet and puddled on the floor. After a major clean-up, I salvaged enough to make a couple of pumpkin pies. The recipe I use calls for one whole can of evaporated milk, and since I double the recipe, it takes two cans, which I opened.
After the pies were in the oven, I found a full can of milk on the counter that I had forgotten to use. (The pies weren’t bad, after all.) Thank goodness, we went to Mike’s for dinner, so there was not too much more damage I could do. We had a wonderful day with Mike’s family—all his children and grandchildren were there. Crystal and Jeff and their girls Alyssa, Brianna and Mylie were there also. It was a day for making memories.
Crystal and Jeff came on home with us, and I planned our Thanksgiving dinner for the following Saturday. There was a recipe for brining a turkey that I wanted to try, so I prepared the brine, and placed the big soup cooker on the floor for I knew I couldn’t lift it and the turkey too. I lifted the turkey out of the sink and held it up, when to my horror it slipped out of my grip and fell in the cooker.
To make a long story short, Patty and I spent the next two hours cleaning celery flakes, sage and salt brine from the ceiling, cabinets, floor and walls. I made more brine and started over. For the record, the turkey turned out delicious. Now it is the lull between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and it makes me wonder what is in store.
Even with all the mishaps and blunders, I have much to be thankful for. It all could have been much worse. The power did come back on, so did the telephone, (the computer is still on the blink, but I am thankful I have a laptop, even if it is awkward for me) and Thanksgiving Day was full of food, merriment and family. The Lord has blessed us abundantly in every way and keeps us in the hollow of His mighty Hand. It makes me feel so secure to know “that I am sheltered in the arms of God.” Come what may, I am safe.
Now that the Christmas season is drawing near, most folks are hurrying here and there, shopping for bargains for kith and kin, we really need to stop and ponder those people who are not as blessed as we are. Betty Banks of Charleston sent me a poem some time ago which brings this close to home.
HAUNTED
It was bitter cold and snowing,
Harsh December winds were blowing,
Christmas time was drawing nigh.
I had gone with friends to buy
Groceries at my favorite store.
What I saw will haunt me evermore.
A wrinkled old woman with weathered face
And toil-worn hands came in the place
To find some warmth and pass some time
I doubt she even had a dime.
She was dressed in ragged cotton hose,
And men’s old shoes and baggy clothes.
A wool knit cap was on her head,
It was dingy beige and faded red.
Her coat was old and thread-bare worn,
On her washed-out dress the hem was torn.
She wandered about from shelf to shelf,
And mumbled softly to herself.
All the shoppers passed her by,
As she lingered there, her soulful eyes
Made a feast over all the things,
That a home and money brings.
I wondered, was she now alone
Without a place to call her own?
Was she dreaming of the days of yore
And the family she had made a home for?
Still, I take myself to task,
How many times I wish I’d asked
Where her daily vigil kept,
Or if there was a place she slept.
If she was hungry or afraid.
An easier life it might have made,
If someone acted like they cared,
Or just a moment with her shared.
I pray that when I’m old and bent,
And my life on earth is almost spent,
That there is more in raging storms
Than a grocery store to keep me warm.
