Random

 Random
Today my thoughts spill out in random sequence falling into no pattern. They dodge the raindrops of my everyday life. The time between those set dates of promises and appointments come with random thoughts, but what concerns me is that I am having and remembering dreams. Usually I don’t remember my dreams, but lately remembering dreams have become routine. My phantom smells weave into these weird and unreal illusions. Now I’ll share what concerns me. Last night my night time dreams have connected with sensations. This feeling had no substance, only the feeling that it was the dream. If you have ever worn contact lenses you will understand the constant nagging sensation of having a foreign body under the lens irritating the eye. That was in essence last night’s “dream.” I was wakened with a feeling of having a dry, irritated eye or having something under my contact lens. Upon waking the feeling would disappear and my eye would feel normal. After a sip of water and a bathroom run, I would crawl beneath my blankets and fall back to sleep, only to be wakened again by the miserable chafing sensation. It wasn’t painful, just a nagging annoyance.
Last year our area was in a drought situation with the wells of many people having gone dry. The gardens were begging for relief from the dry spell and in need of rain. This year it is completely the opposite. Rain here and through much of the country has an overabundance with areas of flooding. The old adage of “Take care for what you ask, you may just get it.” Laewns are lush, long, and green because it has become a real challenge to get several days to allow the grass to be dry enough to mow. The most curious thing is that the days are extremely hot, muggy, and humid making the chore of mowing more difficult. The blessing that I have is that I have a riding mower. I don’t know what my yard would look like if I had a push mower.
Last evening was the annual picnic of the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society. It was to be held outdoors in a pavillion, but it was quickly moved indoors because of the threat of rain. That turned out to be a blessing. Although a bit crowded, the room had air conditioning. Many of our members are older with breathing problems and the air conditioning made the meal more enjoyable. My thoughts today are as random as was the menu for the picnic. 

Van Hauling

 Van Hauling
My friend John and I drove the church van to Servants Heart Camp to retrieve the three kids from a week at summer camp. Servants Heart Camp is located north of Altoona, Pennsylvania near a small town named Ramey. It is still being shaped into a modern facility with rustic charm and grandeur.
The site overlooks a large lake and is secluded from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. It is a haven of peace and quiet where people are able to get in touch with God and make decisions about Jesus and the salvation that He offers. It has been a steady progress in creating this woodland retreat. Slowly from a tent dining room with a trailer truck kitchen, it is being transformed into a comfortable place to enjoy the time of being with others seeking God.
Cabins that are very similar to the KOA log cabins with showers and toilet facilities line the lake front and delve into the wooded areas. They surround the under-construction, two story lodge that faces the beauty of the lake.
The camp has a small store for snacks, camp-embossed shirts, and other souvenirs. There is an auditorium for folks to gather for skits and to listen to evangelist speakers. There are a multitude of eager staff members who care for the campers’ needs.
As John and I herded the kids and gathered their belongings into the van for the trip home, we were given a rousing send-off by the counsellors saying goodbye and wishing us a safe trip home. Two of our kids were upset that they were needing to leave. The third, I’m not sure of what he was thinking. He is always so quiet, I couldn’t hear much of what he was saying, but slowly I found out that even in his shyness, he had a wonderful time. He said that he enjoyed the mmany games and although he was initially afraid of the tower’s height, he rode the zip-line five times.
The van was often filled with the kids singing songs they had learned at camp. The trip home was uneventful, but we had to take care to avoid the many deer that would emerge forn the forest and dart across the road.
Once the kids were reunited with their parents at the church, our task was complete.

She Pushed My Happiness Button

   She Pushed My Happiness Button
Tuesday started out as an almost depressing day. I needed to wake up early to drive my lifelong friend to Ruby Hospital in Morgantown, West Virginia. She was being treated for cancer of some lymph nodes. This was the third in a series of her chemo trearments. The drive was uneventful and we arrived before the registration clerks manned their positions. As we walked toward the entrance, I noticed a small “herd” of people in scrubs coming across the parking lot like stampeding wildebeasts. It was like films on the nature channels. Workers were heading to their designated areas.
 My friend needed to have blood tests before she had her chemo treatment. There was a delay when the technicians had difficulty starting an intravenous line. They needed it to draw blood and the cancer center upstairs would have an open line to infuse the chemo therapy. With one of my friend’s earlier appointments, the hospital had inserted a PICC line for easy access that could be reused for each visit. But the PICC line developed a clot shortly after its insertion and had to be removed.
They finally found a vein, blood was drawn, and we were sent upstairs. The physician assistant, nurses, and pharmacy aid spoke with my friend asking her about some adverse symptoms she had with the last round of chemotherepy. Everything seemed to cause a delay. The nurses needed to talk qith her doctor to get orders for the dosages for the next infusion. Orders needed to be relayed to the pharmacy so the correct drugs and dosages could be mixed and sent to the cancer floor.
Abby and Heather were the two wonderful nurses assigned to my friend. Although very busy, they couldn’t have been more friendly and attentive. Kudos. After the several delays, the infusions were started. The dose of the drug which caused the tingling was reduced. Bag after bag of medications were infused. How the nurses kept the diffferent medications separate really impressed me.
I sat by the bedside watching all of the activity and read. My only complaint was although the chair was soft, my sciatica acted up and I had to stand and walk in the room.
Eventually Dr. Shultz came to visit and talked to her about the drugs and her progress. She had had a PET scan the week before and anxiously waiting to hear the results. It was not only good news, it was great news. Her scan said that she was cancer free. She would need to return in three weeks for a last treatment, then a schedule for follow up visits. I had my happines button pushed and could hardly contain my joy on the drive home.

 

I Should Have Remembered

 I Should Have Remembered
After seventy-six years of living, you would have thought that I would have remembered at least one thing…to stay out of the sun, but no not me. Monday I washed a load of towels with only plans to hang them outside on my clothes line to dry. I was shirtless in the basement when the washer stopped and decided to slip outside to hang them up. The sun was shining brightly. It was hot and humid, but there was a nice breeze. They’ll dry nicely I thought.
The weatherman said it was to rain later and.the back part of my lawn is sometimes boggy. I wanted to get that part mowed before it became swampy. It was looking like a thick hayfield. I dsecided to hop on my John Deere mower and do several quick loops to clip the grass to a managable project for the next time I decided to mow. Again I tackled the small chore without wearing a shirt and no sun screen. Can you see the problem?
As I mowed the boggy area, I noticed that the rest of my lawn looked shaggy and unkempt, so smart me decided to finish mowing the rest of the lawn. The e front side of my lawn already looked a mess due to the trench that the water company dug to repair the main waterline’s leak frpm several days ago. I decided I would use the lawn mower to trim that area and perhaps get it to blend in with the rest of my lawn.
Instead of blending, the grass in the rest of my lawn was too long wit enough fast growing weeds that the “rest of the lawn” looked ratty, so I thought, “What the heck” I’m already on the mower, “What’s to stop me” from finishing the rest of the lawn?
As I nonchalantly tooled around my yard, I’m sure the satellites overhead were blinded by the sunlight reflecting from my chubby white body. I feel blessed that wasn’t the cause of any drivers who were in an accident blinded by the glare as they drove by my house.
What should have stopped me was the memory of my pale skin of ginger colored beard and sandy hair that has in the past, blistered under the sun’d rays. The ginger has long ago faded to silver and white. It now matches my pasty skin color but the ginger in my soul remains. Needless to say, my neck and shoulders gained a warm but painful rosy glow.

Splish Splash Making a Path

 Splish Splash Making a Path
Splish splash, making a path…that’s what happened Saturday evening. My day started out as a normal day. After I woke, checked my blood sugar, and ate breakfast, I watched some television, waiting for the pharmacy to open. My doctor ordered a new medication for the heartburn that I was having. She decided that it was what I needed instead of popping a few antacid tablets when it occurred. Some of the medications that I am on have the side effect of heartburn.
After I came home, I did a few chores and then the old couch potato in me sat down to watch some television and catch a nap. That’s my normal day. My phone rang. It was my daughter. She said that the water line in front of my house had sprung a leak. I can’t remember how she found out. I went to my front door and it was true. There was a fountain shooting out of the ground. It was onll about eight inches high, but the stream was flowing down the road several inches deep and anout five feet wide. Cars were running through it shooting rooster tails of water into my yard. The splash was more of a whomp as the splash hit the undereside of the vehicles fender. I could hear it inside, but there is a bump in the road. The sound was similar to vehicles pulling a trailer and I dismissed it. It was a common noise that I’dd gotten used to hearing.
I called the water ccompany to report it. The voice answering my call said that it had already been reported and the repair crew waas on it’s way.True to their word, the repair crew arrived about 5 pm, shutting off the flow of water. Several more vehicles trickled in, one was a truck towing a flatbed trailer. On the trailed was a bright yellow Deere back-hoe. Unlooaded they began digging a trench about 20 feet long. Mud, shale, and water was scooped from the hole and hauled away. Another vehicle arrived. It was very much like a vacuum cleaner. It sprayed water to loosen the soil and thenn sucked it up into a tank.
Slowly the men cleared a hole to about 5 feet deep, exposing the punctured pipe then cutting out the damaged piece and replacing that section with a repair pipe. Finally they refilled the trench with more gravel fill. The crew finished at 9 pm. I went from sink to sink freeing the trapped air. I was glad that I remembered the last time and took the top of the toilet tank off. If I hadn’t, the tank top would have been in orbit.

Flashing Red Lights

 Flashing Red Lights
Wednesday night my friend John and I were drivers on the van route to pick up kids for evening services at our church. As we started to leave the parking lot, an emergency fire truck came into the lot with it’s red overheadd lights flashing. It turned around fight in front of us and parked.
I looked at John and he looked at me wondering what was happening, He shrugged his shoulder and we left. As we drove in front of the church, our Pastor and other people on the front porch expressed that they had no idea as well. We left to pick up the two young boys who needed a ride to attend the evening service. They have been faitthfully attending. John and I wanted to be sure that we weren’t late in picking them up.
At a road to the community of Bear Rocks, we saw another emergency firetruck with its lights flashing parked at the opening of the road. I glanced past it down the road and saw several private vehicles of volunteer firemen with their blue lights flashing. I saw in their midst a state police vehicle as well. John and I were wondering what was going on, but we drove on. We had kids to collect and didn’t want to be late
As we drove down Kreinbrook Hill road, a state police SUV with its red lights flashing came speeding upward to the area that we’d just left. It almost clipped the front fender of our church van. Again John and I were wondering what was going on to cause all the furor.
We picked up the boysat their homes and began to return to church with the boys fastened in their seat belts. I fully expected to point out the confusion of the flashing lights and emergency vehiccles, but I was disappointed. The street was empty. No lights and no vehicles.
We drove the van into the church parking lot. No wonder the street into Bear Rocks ans bare, they were all at the church aand had gained anotherr policce car and several ambulances. There was a plethors of flashing red lights.
At the back of our church is a large field that the church owns, mows, and maintains for outdoor games. The emergency squads decided to land the medical helicopter there to pick up a person who had been in a quad vehicle accident. We parked the van and hustled the boys inside. Slowly the parking lot emptied after the helicopter collected their patient.

Banned From the County Courthouse

Banned From the County Courthouse
Several years back I answered a call for jury duty at the Fayette County Courthouse. As a citizen of the United States and Fayette County, I felt it was my responsibility to go. I was retired and didn’t have anything else exciting to do. That day arrived and I was blessed when I found the gate to the parking garage open. I was able to park for free. I made my way to the courthouse then entered the courtroom for roll call. I was amazed at the inefficiency of the officials. Instead of someone checking people as they entered, marking them on the roster, and assigning a juror badge number, the juror pool sat and waited until the room was full. One by one the names were called and given badges. It was more than an hour wasted and sitting on those hard oak benches irritated my sciatic nerve.
Our group was assigned to report to another courtroom. We sat on hard oak chairs for another hour. The ache in my back worsened and my foot began to go numb. After the judge sat on his throne and lawyers made plea deal one after another, we were excused to wait in the hall. By then it was lunchtime and we were dismissed to find food nearby. When I returned, my pain had worsened. I hunted the office of the lady who was in charge of the jurors and told her about my problem with the progressive numbness in my foot. She said if I stayed until three PM, she would excuse me from jury duty.
While I was talking with her, I mentioned, “The last time I was here, the prosecutor didn’t do his job.” She looked startled. I shared, “The accused stole an air conditioner for the aluminum and the prosecutor failed to say whether it was commercial or home model and whether it was functioning or not. We could only judge the accused with scrap metal prices for the aluminum.”
At three I left AND would you believe it, the very next week, I received another jury duty summons. I sent back a scathing letter telling the courthouse that they could send the sheriff and all his deputies, but I wasn’t coming back. I also explained that I’d already been there and my sciatica problem. They sent a return letter saying it was no longer necessary for me to serve as a juror. I’d been banned.
Because my address is Acme, I also get jury summons from Westmoreland County. When I received one from Westmoreland, I returned it saying I lived in Fayette. When they responded I needed a doctor’s excuse, I phoned them. The reason for the continuing snafu is the list is generated in Harrisburg. Enough said.