Holding the World in a Paper Cup

Archive for February 2011

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Saved

Charley was saved on Wednesday! By saved I mean, as in, from hell. Yep. Charley believes in that Jesus died for her sins so that she could go to heaven. She always has. The difference was that we talked about what it meant to be saved in depth, in very simple terms, and I am fully confident she understands. She has never questioned the existence of God or His son. To be honest, for me, it is a little difficult to wrap my mind around the Bible stories I read her. Not that I ever doubt they occurred, but sometimes I think she’s such a realistically thinking child, she wouldn’t accept that Jesus walked on water or that, Daniel was protected in the lion’s den, or that the bush burned and from it came God’s voice to Moses, or that all she had to do to get to heaven, was say out loud, in front of God and others that she believes in Jesus and that He died on the cross so that she could go to heaven. But she never once questioned it. The faith of a child is an awesome thing.

We talked about going up front and telling the church and baptism but those things can wait until she’s feels ready. For now, I feel confident she’s done enough.

9 Comments

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Saying good-bye to a piece of the family

Yesterday, we said good-bye to my Uncle Jerry Waits. Uncle Jerry has been in my memories ever since my memories began.

He had been sick for a while. About five years ago, he was 1 of 2 people in Etowah County that contracted West Nile Virus. While he eventually did overcome the disease, he never fully regained his strength. He still went to church regularly and even worked occasionally, but the disease had taken its toll. He also suffered from diabetes which made everything more complicated.

More recently, he found himself in and out of the hospital. When he fell and hit his head on the bed, my Aunt JoAnn made sure that he saw a doctor. From there it gets confusing. In fact, the whole thing is just a mess in my head. Uncle Jerry thought he was better, went to the church to resume his security duties, called his son-in-law to say he couldn’t manage, and that’s where they found him. Passed out there at the church. He was taken to the hospital where they took him into emergency surgery because of a blood clot on his brain. Afterward, he wasn't able to breath without aide. His brain function was limited. Damaged, they said. He never woke up. You know when someone has several things going wrong all at the same time, and one of them, though you aren’t fully sure which one, gets to be too much for them to handle? Well, that’s what happened with my Uncle Jerry. The doctor says it was the blood clot in his brain resulting from his fall. Some people in the family blame other medical issues. Either way he's gone, and he will be missed by many.

He and my Aunt JoAnn have been married for 3 quarters of their time on earth. I suspect she will be lost without him for a long time. He has two grown kids, both of whom married long ago, and four grandkids.

A person can’t think of Uncle Jerry and not think of oak hardwood floors, dark walnut secretaries, marble topped side tables, velvet covered chaises, refinished wainscoting, table lamps with teardrop shaped crystals, the New York Yankees, big antebellum homes, the Old South, and memorabilia from the Civil War, Spanish-American War, WWI, WWII, Korean War, and Vietnam. He was a collector. In fact, he was such a collector, he left the Waits Family one hell of an estate (‘scuse my French).

I would often bump into Uncle Jerry at estate sales in Gadsden. He would scoff (as politely as one can scoff) at the stuff I would spend my dollar and a half on. And it wasn’t because he couldn’t see the treasure behind the dust. It was because the treasures he sought, were not only valued by one quirky, junk loving, gypsy girl, but by most of the world. He spent his time polishing dusty historical relics. And in most cases, "polishing" meant stripping them down to bare wood and restoring them to their former grandeur. Things that thanks to him, will tell a story on a shelf or in a curio cabinet, rather than underneath the rubble of a caved in barn in the country or in the basement of a mildew covered house.

Last night I went by their house in the Mill Village to be with the family. I watched my Aunt Sara silently iron Uncle Jerry’s white button up into crisp, clean, cotton perfection, fit for his burial. Saw my Aunt JoAnn pilfer through her closet in search of something suitable for a funeral. Noticed how several family members hovered around their daughter, Kelly, while she worked out the details of her Dad’s obituary. Observed their son, Mark, sitting in his Dad’s old chair, trying to pull the memories of each last conversation Uncle Jerry had with every family member. Saw the kitchen covered up with food from friends, family, and neighbors. Spotted Aunt JoAnn’s dearest friends, Barbara and Gail sitting in a cane bottomed chairs ready to do whatever was needed, whenever it was needed. It all made me grateful to be home again. It is strange in such a sorrowful time to find happiness, but that’s exactly what I did. I found happiness in the familiar rhythm of it all. I think the way the family works together, even when no one knows exactly what to say or how to act, was comforting to everyone there, including Aunt JoAnn, who needs it most. Please pray for their family. They have some healing to do.

5 Comments

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A Day Before I left Alaska...

Out on Clearwater Road

4 Comments

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Way Down Home...

Fried NutterButters are on the menu.

Not that I would EVER eat anything like this garbage.

Or would I?

Ok. Yes.

I totally would.

Old friend Maegan and Brad

8 Comments

Friday, February 18, 2011

HOUSE FOR SALE! OR RENT! OR LEASE TO OWN!

Ok you guys. Here I go again.

I am looking to sell this beautiful 3 bedroom, 2 bath home.

This brick and vinyl home is only 6 years old and has been well maintained.

It has 3 large bedrooms, 2 baths, large family room with hardwood flooring, trey ceiling, and gas log fireplace.

Hardwood is also in the foyer, hallway, and dining room.

Great home in a great location in Southside, Alabama. (Etowah Co.)

$155,000.00

We can also arrange a lease to own or a straight rental agreement.   

I can show it most anytime! Leave a comment, email me directly, or call 256-613-0711.

Master Bedroom

Master Bath, Full Size

2nd Bedroom

Don't have a little girl who loves pink? I will paint this room for you!

Second FULL Bath

Huge Backyard

A place for the pets.

The house is currently clean and empty so moving in would be a breeze.

7 Comments

Thursday, February 17, 2011

A few weeks ago my life was pretty different.

Our ice shanty for the weekend

My first experience walking on ice. It was a little scary. Beyond worrying about slipping and breaking a hip, I was a little fearful of all the cracks and gouges all through the top layers. Apparently during this time of year, the ice is so thick they aren't an issue.

Can you see those smokies cooking on the wood burning stove in the background?

He cooked eggs too.

The Main Event

Cured Salmon Eggs for Bait

Shera actually doesn't smile much when she is fishing. It isn't because she isn't happy. She's just in character. Apparently, in the trophy fishing shots she has viewed, the men are too cool to be happy about their catch or their activity. You've seen those pictures right?

Oh wait, I think I've got one here.

Yep. Here it is.

She really isn't squeezing the life out of the fish. The life left the fish later when Chuck bopped his head against the wall of the cabin. He's just so slimy she had to concentrate really hard on not dropping him, while avoiding squeezing the life out him. He's a slick willie.

For those who don't fish (and want to get all sad about how "Chuck bopped his head against the wall of the cabin" and/or possibly climb onto a soapbox of some sort regarding the fishes demise) bopping a fish's head is an act of mercy. It is a whole lot quicker and less painless than suffocating OR literally freezing to death in the ice...whichever comes first. It could be either, you know.

Getting slimed by Slick Willie.

Keeping it within my "5 degree window of temperature comfortability".
Chuck coined the phrase quoted above. You might have guess it already.

The only other ice shanty on the lake.

Company.
Shera doesn't actually feel the way she looks about having company. She loves Earl and Jamie. She just feels this way about not having my undivided attention

Looking out the window from my comfortable chair.

Fun on the Ice

Bambi Fell Down

And now it is time for

A Mini Photo Sesh

(What to do when the fish aren't biting)

5 Comments

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

What Chuck's been up to...

Rainbow Trout

On Bolio Lake

Temps: -30 to -40

The Following Day
On Bolio Lake

Temps: -43 to -55

He took these fish back to his little cabin and had them for supper. Mmmm good.

Chuck was fishing from the same ice shanty that we had fished from as a family a few weeks prior. It made him feel good to know we got to do that with him before we left Alaska.

When Chuck gets joy from a hobby, he wants to share it with us. I'm not saying he wants us by his side on every duck hunt or while he reels in each fish, but he really gets a lot of happiness from seeing Butternut Squash and I experiencing what he loves.

If your husband wants you to participate in his hobby with him, I'd encourage you to do it. It doesn't matter that you care nothing about fish. So what if you think hunting is a bore. Your husband likes YOU enough to want YOU to come along with him. Go.

Did I mention I really don't care for fishing? Nope. I mean when they're biting I'm happy, but fish generally don't bite more than they do bite. But Chuck makes it fun for us anyway. He wants us to enjoy it so much, that he acts as our guide. During our last fishing excursion, he made sure I had a comfortable place to sit, cooked us breakfast on the piping hot wood stove, and kept the ice shanty at a temperature that was uncomfortable for him so that I'd be warm enough. All Butternut Squash and I had to do was smile and be happy to be there.

I don't really like the idea of shooting ducks either. But occasionally, I'll go along. By doing so, I've discovered that I get a great deal of joy out of waking up early enough to see the sunrise or paddling back in late enough to see the sunset. And yeah, it's always cold and wet, even in Alabama. But Chuck bundles me up with layers of his camouflage and I am warm enough.

The next time I get the opportunity to tag along with my husband, I'll be happy to do it.