When it rains, it pours
Gee, I am glad I've had a few days to collect my thoughts and to sort our my feelings. They've been chaotic.
A couple of weeks or so ago when we had a weekend of continuous rain, we discovered the the apartment portion of the house has a leaky roof. Since many of the houses in our neighborhood have been having their roofs replaced in the last year or so, I was halfway expecting to have to deal with this issue before long. Fortunately the cost will be covered by insurance, but I was not particularly wishing to have to deal with such a thing right now.
Then last week the Chevy pickup motor was not sounding so good as Charlie arrived home. Foolishly the next day we decided to drive in it to Dallas for doctor's appointments. We did not get very far on the freeway until it began to fall apart. We were able to limp to a nearby exit ramp and reach a service station. Thank God for small favors. Later we discovered that the engine is ruined. Now we have to make decisions as to what we're going to do about transportation.
On the day of the issue with the Chevy, the Nissan's only key was misplaced so that we were totally without means of going anywhere--work or whatever. Frustrating. In a calmer moment the following day we did find that key in the very area where I had looked for it so diligently.
Then there were a couple of plumbing issues in the apartment. My brother who is skilled at home repairs may be able to help us with those without any difficulty.
By the time the front porch light burned out (such a minor thing!), it seemed predictable. I was getting so stressed out that I was not nice to be around and, I know, I was unnecessarily unkind to Charlie. Fortunately he seems able to separate who I am from how I sometimes act. Thank God, again!
In the midst of all of this I've just finished reading a delightful, unique book called "The Art of Driving in the Rain" by Garth Stein. The main character, a race car driver, has his story told from the perspective of his dog. The dog/narrator is frustrated by his inability to speak because of a too large tongue, etc. as he has some rather keen observations on human behavior, especially as to how they handle their predicaments.
Sometimes I need to slow down to look for the roses, much less see if I can smell them. There are lots of roses in my life--much more good than bad. Nothing has gone wrong that cannot eventually be fixed.
A couple of weeks or so ago when we had a weekend of continuous rain, we discovered the the apartment portion of the house has a leaky roof. Since many of the houses in our neighborhood have been having their roofs replaced in the last year or so, I was halfway expecting to have to deal with this issue before long. Fortunately the cost will be covered by insurance, but I was not particularly wishing to have to deal with such a thing right now.
Then last week the Chevy pickup motor was not sounding so good as Charlie arrived home. Foolishly the next day we decided to drive in it to Dallas for doctor's appointments. We did not get very far on the freeway until it began to fall apart. We were able to limp to a nearby exit ramp and reach a service station. Thank God for small favors. Later we discovered that the engine is ruined. Now we have to make decisions as to what we're going to do about transportation.
On the day of the issue with the Chevy, the Nissan's only key was misplaced so that we were totally without means of going anywhere--work or whatever. Frustrating. In a calmer moment the following day we did find that key in the very area where I had looked for it so diligently.
Then there were a couple of plumbing issues in the apartment. My brother who is skilled at home repairs may be able to help us with those without any difficulty.
By the time the front porch light burned out (such a minor thing!), it seemed predictable. I was getting so stressed out that I was not nice to be around and, I know, I was unnecessarily unkind to Charlie. Fortunately he seems able to separate who I am from how I sometimes act. Thank God, again!
In the midst of all of this I've just finished reading a delightful, unique book called "The Art of Driving in the Rain" by Garth Stein. The main character, a race car driver, has his story told from the perspective of his dog. The dog/narrator is frustrated by his inability to speak because of a too large tongue, etc. as he has some rather keen observations on human behavior, especially as to how they handle their predicaments.
Sometimes I need to slow down to look for the roses, much less see if I can smell them. There are lots of roses in my life--much more good than bad. Nothing has gone wrong that cannot eventually be fixed.