Hi, readers of this site, and merry meet!
It's a sign that Gavin is getting better: We're off to Sirius Rising and SummerFest at Brushwood Folklore Center, setting off on Sunday July 15 and driving gently northward. Of course this means that the School's mail will be a little bit delayed, though not so much as it has been a couple of times during the worst of Gavin's health problems. We'll get it all back on schedule as soon as we can. Don't go away; don't lose hope. We're still here.
We'd love to see some of you troops there. Oops--not just some of you, but any or all of you. Save mid-July 2013 for what can be a life-changing experience. See
www.brushwood.com
to get precise dates and all the particulars. Blessed be all. Gavin and Yvonne
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
We's Back
We's okay. Yes, our power went out, but it's back on now: It came on after three (3) days. We've had similar power outages before. Living in the mountains in a place of reasonably severe winters gives you this natural experience on a fairly frequently basis. On reflection, it seems that that the pattern is once every two years or so.
This time it was more interesting than most because it was so unexpected. A minor summer thunderstorm abruptly turned into a series of microburst tornadoes that swept across the northern part of the country from somewhere around the Chicago area and left four million people in the dark ... during a persistent heat wave. A large number of those people also didn't have water because our water supply depends on electric pumps. Of course the gas stations get pumped dry first thing, and ice becomes a commodity as rare as gold nuggets. The battery-powered radio worked well enough in our house, so that we could pick up all the tales of disaster from local towns, although interestingly, none from our own; mainly because the telephones, both landline and cell, went down.
Still, it gave us a chance to meditate on how lucky we are having lost only one piece of siding from the house, whereas a local church lost half its roof--just peeled off. An act of "God"? Or maybe of a malicious demon? We heard no one gasping, "Thank you, Lord!" or "Hosanna!" Still, as the pastor told everyone, "We're well insured." Rather he seemed to have a "What? Me worry?" attitude like that of Alfred E. Neuman. They hadn't bothered even to haul tarps over the exposed roof to prevent further damage.
This time it was more interesting than most because it was so unexpected. A minor summer thunderstorm abruptly turned into a series of microburst tornadoes that swept across the northern part of the country from somewhere around the Chicago area and left four million people in the dark ... during a persistent heat wave. A large number of those people also didn't have water because our water supply depends on electric pumps. Of course the gas stations get pumped dry first thing, and ice becomes a commodity as rare as gold nuggets. The battery-powered radio worked well enough in our house, so that we could pick up all the tales of disaster from local towns, although interestingly, none from our own; mainly because the telephones, both landline and cell, went down.
Still, it gave us a chance to meditate on how lucky we are having lost only one piece of siding from the house, whereas a local church lost half its roof--just peeled off. An act of "God"? Or maybe of a malicious demon? We heard no one gasping, "Thank you, Lord!" or "Hosanna!" Still, as the pastor told everyone, "We're well insured." Rather he seemed to have a "What? Me worry?" attitude like that of Alfred E. Neuman. They hadn't bothered even to haul tarps over the exposed roof to prevent further damage.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)