Saturday, June 06, 2009


See this guy? I think he's pretty great. He died last night. His baptism is completed; the Old Adam is defeated; he is with his Jesus; he awaits the resurrection of the body.

Funeral is Tuesday morning.

I love Pastor W. He knows how to read the book, and he knows what to say when the book is closed too.

Dad was 75. He died of cancer. Morphine is a lovely blessing from God. So are doctors. So are faithful pastors.

It's not real yet. With all the company this afternoon, I found myself wondering how long Dad was going to nap today. He's been sick long enough, and when we visit he often absents himself from the hullaballoo in the living room to go lie down for a while. But it seemed today like he'd been gone for quite a while, and I felt the need to go to the bedroom to check on him. He wasn't there. Oh. Yeah. Right. I guess he wouldn't be.

It's going to take a while to get used to this.

Thursday, June 04, 2009


So far this week we've had baked salmon, mashed potatoes, lettuce salad, deli-meat sandwiches, ham & beans on cornbread, lentil soup, spanish rice, hamburgers, fried eggs, pbjs, creamed spinach, fruit smoothy, and some frozen veggies.

As we divvied up the seconds on the creamed spinach tonight, we wondered how much less we would've eaten if we'd had to share with Philip. Which made us wonder (especially after Philip's last stint cooking for himself in an apartment) what is he eating this week? Hopefully he IS eating.

Wednesday, June 03, 2009


When I was little, I remember hearing how horrible cancer was, that it was an extremely painful way to die.

Now we have all these drugs, all these pain-killers, oral drugs, patches to put on the skin, and intravenous morphine. When you see the pain that cancer inflicts today, a person wonders what it must have been like 50 years ago to have cancer. When you see how bad it is now, it's hard to fathom how it used to be even worse.


Last time the previous owner of the house stopped by here was more than a year ago. It was the day the septic was installed, and she had to see that the job was done and turn over the payment for the work. We chatted about her lovely tulips and about where they'd had gardens in the past. She pointed out the area in the back corner of the lot, but said it became very frustrating to work out there because of all the mosquitos.

As I planted raspberries yesterday afternoon, I knew what she meant. As it drew closer to supper time, I was slapping myself like crazy. However, when planting bare-root canes, there's a lot of water necessary, going into the holes so as to ensure no air-pockets around the roots. Water plus dirt equals mud. Muddy muddy hands. Swat the mosquito here. Swat the mosquito there. Gary took one look at me when I came home and suggested that covering myself with a thicker layer of mud --and covering all the skin instead of most of it-- would be more effective at protecting me from mosquito bites.

When I went out to plant the strawberries today, I was careful to start earlier in the day!

Monday, June 01, 2009

Stuff To Do

Hi, Mom. We're still here. I didn't fall off the face of the earth. We've been working on the garden. On Sunday afternoon we went to a graduation party. Saturday there's another one, and next Sunday there's another.

Sure enough, with all the errands I had to do today, this was the day my order from Jung's Nursery arrived. Gary and I planted the blueberry shrubs this evening. The roots of the blackberries and raspberries hadn't soaked long enough by this evening, so I guess the kids and I will tackle those tomorrow, after they've absorbed more water. And we need to do the strawberries. And the asparagus. And the potatoes.

I feel like such a neglectful mother. Philip did gobs of cleaning and moving this weekend, with help from his brothers. Gary and I haven't even seen the place yet. But the tomatoes and the cucumbers and other veggies are planted. For a few hours today we got a glimpse of summer: it made it to 80. Then the wind changed. Tonight the lows are in the low- to mid-40s. Tomorrow the high may make it to 50, they tell us. Somehow, I don't think my green beans and my peppers and tomatoes are going to thrive.