Back to Work

A full year to recuperate.  That's what the doctors and therapists kept telling me as I progressed speedily in my abilities. "Slow down; don't overdo," they kept reminding.  Although I can do almost everything I could do before, I now realize I can't do very much of any of those things.  I wear out easily.  I slept 10.5 hours last night.  When Katie dropped by today, she was surprised by how clean the house was and that the laundry was caught up.  [light bulb click]  No wonder I was too tired to accomplish anything the last couple of days; I was worn out from the first half of the week.

When I found out that another part-time position would be opening at work, I adjusted my mind to taking that position while my boss filled my position.  That would've meant I had until late September before I had to be ready to work.  Recently that goal seemed perfectly doable; probably in mid-September it would've seemed intimidating.  After talking with bosses this week, it looks like I'll be returning to my job much sooner.  As in, a week or so.  For now, it will be only half-days.  And my boss made it very plain that he doesn't want me to get worn out so that the job interferes with my healing ... or even that it makes me consider quitting.  They are bending over backwards to help me keep my job.

And I'm terribly grateful.
Especially because I much prefer my current schedule to the other option.

But right now I'm also a bit hesitant about going back to work already.

It'll be fine.
It'll be fine.
It'll be fine.

I just have to readjust my mind away from all those books Maggie and I were going to read, and movies I was going to watch, and piddly projects I was going to tick off the list, over the next 2-3 months.  Sleep, however, will stay near the top of the Priorities List.


(PS to kids: I'm going to need some chauffeuring for a few weeks.  Andrew can take the first week.  But I'll need at least two more weeks of rides before I'm eligible to drive.)

My Old Backyard

Disturbing to see our former backyard splashed all over this week's news.

Two boys were playing in the tree-line on Wednesday.  One was shot.  The most recent news reports have the uncle saying that the boys were target-shooting, and the victim ran across the line-of-fire.   The WISN story is here, and the WTMJ story is here. 

I did almost nothing on Thursday except for checking the news and trying to understand how this could happen in "my space" and feeling vulnerable.  But that's nothing compared to the grief both families are enduring.

Tree Trimming

I'm too old and weak for the lumberjack-drill.

A few years ago, I trimmed branches overhanging the roof and the power lines.  Gary held the ladder; I climbed too high; I wielded the lonnng-handled saw.  Other than some achy muscles on both our parts, there were no mishaps.  And I tell ya, I am still pleased and proud of the results.  Oh yes!!

But I didn't finish the job.  I had no intention of coming into contact with electrical lines.  I didn't even want to go too near the cable lines ... because then I would've been disconnected from the internet ... which would make me pout.

Recently, the landlord next door had trucks in the backyard.  A cherry-picker!  And carts to haul brush and logs!  And lots of chainsaws!  At the end of Day 1, Gary talked to the tree-trimmers about doing some extra work while they were out here with their equipment.  They quoted us a price 1/3 what we'd been quoted a few years ago! (Hey, the benefits of grabbing Mr Muscle while his tools and machines are already in the backyard!)


This tree was my biggest worry.  It grew as a weed, way out in back, bordering the unused meadow, and nobody took it down.  Its branches wove back and forth between the three lines (cable, phone, and electricity).  Without a cherry-picker, there was no way to cut without knocking down lines.

These branches looked like they might be within the realm of possibility.  Maybe.  If I was feeling strong.  And being very very careful.  Tree branches had crawled in odd weavy directions.  If I'd tackled it when we first moved in, the branch may have been small enough to use my pruning saw.  Maybe.  But by now the branch-diameter was too overwhelming for something so high above my head.  And the weight had grown enough that it was no longer merely touching the electrical lines, but was pulling down on them.  Yeah, not my forte when I'm at my best and strongest.  (And I'm not exactly at my best and strongest right now.)

I can't post a picture of the improvement of the first problem.  Because the tree is GONE.  Yes, it's gone.  It's a pile o' logs and nothing more.  No more weaving and dancing and tangling in the electrical lines.  Oh, happy day!

The tree below is what's left of the second problem.  From this direction, it looks like the tree is still too close to the cables.  Well, not really.  There's a nice amount of space.  But what's more important -- what's left are branches that we can trim without destroying power lines, assuming we don't delay too many years.

And this mess is the wild grape vines that have grown up on the scrub-trees.  The grapes took root, grew, climbed, then crawled along the power lines to take over the pole for the power lines and begin spreading out.  These are not on our property, and they've grown unmolested for many years.  The neighbors did give us permission to hack back whatever we choose to cut.

I can see in this picture that the tree-trimmers did pull down a lot of grape vines that were within their reach, or which were engulfing branches that were chopped away. So it's better. But there's a long way to go. 

Job #1: Take down all the 6' weeds/trees that are anywhere near the power lines.  And keep taking them down.  If we murder them when they're small, we won't face huge tree-trimming problems when we're 80.

Job #2: Cutting back the tall grasses so that we can reach the bottom of the grape vines ... without inadvertently stepping on snakes, woodchucks, or whatever else may be living back there.

Job #3:  Whacking off the grape vines and taking a hefty chunk out of the branch.  If the smaller viney guys are disconnected from the strong roots and branches, eventually they'll wither, dry, crumble, and then storms will blow their remains off the cables.  At least, that's my hope.

Job #4: Some day in the future ... begin removing some of those bigger branches that are not a problem now.  They will grow twigs which will eventually becomes branches which will cause new problems.  Maybe one branch per year would be an achievable project?  Starting next year?

Weird Tasks

WHY am I compelled to tackle these things right now?!  (Or requesting the kids do it?)

~Scrubbing the ceiling-fan blades with a toothbrush to get them all-the-way clean instead of just dusted.

~Vacuuming the backs and underneath-sides of the dressers.

~Scrubbing the floor behind the computer desk and the back side of the desk.

~Washing the handrail on the basement stairs.

~Cleaning out drains in the bathrooms.

~Vacuuming the tops of the encyclopedias, as well as all the bookshelves in the living room.

~Vacuuming the living-room upholstery.

~Vacuuming cobwebs from the basement ceiling.

~Cleaning behind and under the stove and refrigerator.

~Washing the kitchen windows and screens.


Maybe it's because I haven't done spring cleaning since we moved into this house.
Maybe it's because I lay in bed for several weeks and did no cleaning, and now I'm trying to catch up.
Maybe it's because I know that, once I go back to work, I'm not going to be able to do any of this because the job will take all the energy I have.
Maybe it's because some of these jobs are so overdue that they're interfering with the simple everyday cleaning, and they Must Be Done.
Maybe it's because some of these jobs are small enough that I've got the strength to do them (in between the times I sit on the phone, on hold, for long periods, "resting up" while I deal with hospital bills and insurance).



Right now, the house is clean, the lawn is mowed, the laundry is caught up.  I cannot drive, so shopping, visiting, and other errands are not possible.  I may have to do something fun ... and do it without guilt over all the other things I "should" be doing.  Wow.

Not to worry, though.  Things will get dirty.  Soon enough I'll have more house-cleaning and laundry to do.

Lettuce, Orthaheels, and Hair

Planted lettuce yesterday.  It's the wrong time of year to plant lettuce.  I don't think the weather has noticed, though.

My apple trees, which haven't been bearing, grew some baby apples this year.  The tree with only two apples lost them.  But the other tree has a small crop we're hoping for.

My hair is long enough now that I occasionally have to brush it.  That's not really saying much, though, as my dad-who-always-had-a-crewcut brushed his hair every day.  But it's a step in the right direction!

My shoes -- my awesome shoes that are the only thing which make my feet not hurt -- my beloved shoes which are better than prescription insoles -- my shoes have been discontinued.  The technology for them was bought by another company, but customer reviews report that the support is just not the same.  So I bought all the rest of the old version that Amazon still had in my size.  Also, the new company doesn't make any versions without the toe strap -- in other words, none that I can wear to work when my current work-pair finally is no more.  I'm trying not to let this sink into my brain; it would be far too discouraging to realize what this means.  I can only hope that these shoes will be manufactured again before my new stash wears out.

Personality Trumps Character

James Davison Hunter, in The Death of Character: Moral Education in an Age Without Good or Evil

We say we want a renewal of character in our day but don't really know what we ask for.  To have a renewal of character is to have a renewal of a creedal order that constrains, limits, binds, obligates, and compels.  This price is too high for us to pay.  We want character but without conviction; we want strong morality but without the emotional burden of guilt or shame; we want virtue but without particular moral justifications that invariably offend; we want good without having to name evil; we want decency without the authority to insist upon it; we want moral community without any limitations to personal freedom.  In short, we want what we cannot possibly have on the terms that we want it.  (Found in "A Continual Feast" by Jan Karon)

Funny how I ran across this quote shortly after reading the first chapter of Quiet.

Happy Picutres

These pictures from the fund-raising auction in February were finally downloaded off the camera.  Rachel, Matt, and Maggie with his mom in the top photo, and then with me in the bottom photo.

It was a fun day with superb company!

Psalm 103:7

He made know His ways to Moses,
His acts to the children of Israel.

One perspective of God's ways:
God's way is to smash people who don't listen.
God's way is to give rules.

Another perspective of God's ways:
God says, "My people be protected from the calamities coming."
God says, "My people shall have light in the darkness."
God says, "My people shall be rescued when they are trapped."
God says, "My people shall eat the bread of heaven."
God says, "I forgive them and call them My own even though they are ... umm ... well, look at them.  I love them even though they are the rebellious mess they are."

Pretty Bridesmaid

Periwinkle.
Simple pattern.
Decent and proper.
White trim, white shoes, and pearls.

I was prepping the pattern, adjusting it to fit Maggie properly.  Then I crashed and Kristine took over the sewing so I didn't have to worry about the dress.  Oh, what a sweetie she is!

Personally, I think it looks classy.  Kristine did a great job.  And it's a dress that can be worn for regular Sundays instead of hanging in the closet with a "Bridesmaid Only" label. 

Screen Kleen

The little green roller beckoned to me while I was standing in line last year at the local hardware store.  It promised to make cleaning the window-screens a simple, easy task. 

Now, I don't know about you.  But I don't often clean my screens.  Maybe once a decade.  And they get nasty when you have a fan sitting in the window, running, all summer.  But cleaning the screens?  What a pain!  So they stay dirty too too often. 

So I splurged.  I bought the ScreenKleen kit. 

It sat in the closet.

For some reason, right now I am feeling in need of cleaning in the corners, behind furniture, underneath things.  I even got a toothbrush and Murphy's Oil Soap and scrubbed the nasty edge of a ceiling fan.  I never did that before in my life!  (Maybe these little jobs are my way of procrastinating on the big everyday jobs that I'm too weak to tackle?)  The other day, I couldn't see out the kitchen window.  There was tree-trimming going on next door.  And I couldn't tell if there were damaged trees from the recent storm, or if these were preventive measures to get branches away from power lines before the next storm. 

You know what?  If you cannot see out the window, it's probably time to clean the window. 

One window?  That should only take a few minutes.  I have energy enough for that.  But the clean glass made the screen look awful.  I tried the ScreenKleen.  It worked.  Oh man, it worked great!  Easy to do!  Effective!  Easy to clean up and put away the supplies (as opposed to stowing the hose and scrub-brushes and screwdrivers and putting screens back into the windows). 

The ScreenKleen kit worked so wondrously that I cleaned other screens later in the day.  I may even do some more.

The only thing I don't know is about its longevity.  The kit comes with two rollers.  They can be washed and re-used.  But for how long?  (I'm hoping a good long time, because this tool may make it possible for me to have non-disgusting screens for the first time in my life.)

Quiet -- chapter 1

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking,
by Susan Cain


My friend, Lora, recommended the book Quiet.  The first chapter intrigued me: history, sociology, psychology, and more.

Industrial revolution leads to

more consumer goods and less farming, which leads to 

people moving to cities (where they're relatively anonymous) and away from farms (where everybody knows their family for generations back and their work ethic and the looks of the place), which leads to 

an increased need for salesmen,
"a social operator, someone with a ready smile, a masterful handshake, and the ability to get along with colleagues while simultaneously outshining them" (p. 20).

Yes.  That's it.  Salesmen must have the charisma to draw others to themselves, to instill trust, and yet to make sure they get what they want from the customer and outshine the colleagues.  It's seldom about cooperation, and usually about competition.

The increased need for salesmen leads to 

a change from the "culture of character" to the "culture of personality" which leads to

advertisements everywhere

and earlier schooling (so that children can be "socialized")

and "inferiority complexes" for introverts

and psychiatric medications to change personalities

and the idolization of celebrities



as we learn to be dissatisfied with quiet thoughtfulness,
and be influenced by those who are outgoing (regardless of depth)
and those who talk and chatter and even scam.

Starck's Motherhood Prayers

I'd heard so many wonderful things about the book. 

Even though the author is a pietist, I figured that wasn't reason to write off the book.  [Pun.  Bad pun.  Oops.]   I figure that a Christian who values piety so highly (even if too highly) may have some good things to say about prayer.

And boy oh boy, what mixed feelings I have!

On the one hand, I am amazed by the prayers.  They are drenched in scripture.  These samples are what fervent prayer is all about: speaking back to God what He has spoken to us, holding onto His promises, fitting those promises and those words to our situation.  Rebekah explains this superbly.  And I think this is why Emmanuel Press publishes the book.  (By the way, their cards are gorgeous!)

On the other hand, when I first opened the book, Starck and I got off on the wrong foot.

The first thing I saw when I flipped through the book to get an idea of what was there?  A prayer that God would guard me from seeing any deformed person throughout my pregnancy (pp 16, 19).  And if by chance I should see a deformed person, I pray that God would guard my child from being affected by the sight.   Maybe I'm being too touchy, but that really hacked me off.  As I crabbed about it to Gary, he asked who I saw without an arm when I was pregnant with Katie.  And he pondered how it happened that I "saw" somebody's heart defect and palate defect when I was pregnant with Maggie.

The next thing I noticed was the part about the churching of a mother, and how a mother will spend six weeks after childbirth at home resting.  I realize that people respond differently to childbirth, and I realize that some mothers appreciate this hiatus from work and being out among other people.  But to use Leviticus to make a law of this?  And to tell mothers that they are disobeying God to get out of bed and do some work in those first weeks?  No wonder Starck is talking about the mother's weakness and how she needs to pray for strength!  After spending two weeks in an ICU bed recently, I am weak.  Too much rest destroys a person's strength.  It is not "wantonness" deserving of "injury for wanting to be wiser than God" (p 53) for a woman to "move about" during this time. 

I understand and agree with Starck's comments about how it's better for mother and baby when the mother is cheerful and thankful.  But it's going too far to say that "an outburst of hot temper" during pregnancy indicates "impatience at her fruitfulness, and consequently an act of ingratitude" for which God may punish her (p 16).  

Similarly (p 64) we hear that God has placed children into our keeping, and if they be lost, "then shall thy life be for its life."   I see where such a statement could flow from pietism.  But those who believe in original sin and know that it is the Holy Spirit (and not we ourselves) who preserves us in the true faith, such people cannot believe that God punishes Christian parents whose children go astray.

So I approach the final chapter with caution.  The naughty perspective is such a small portion of the book.  So much of the book flows from scripture to another scripture to hymn stanza and back to more psalms.  What will he say about the barren mother?  I noticed that, in Rebekah's review, she said she hadn't read that concluding chapter.  In my opinion, that's just as well.  The dear friend who gave me the book said that the chapter on barrenness was full of information that helped her, and she said there was truth there which was hard to hear, but nevertheless the words were good.  My perspective was a little ... uh ... angrier.

I think Starck tries to delve into the hidden mysteries of God when he attempts to give reasons why God chooses to withhold the gift of children from some couples.  And some of those reasons can be very hurtful.  And untrue.  And can contradict what we so often say about the good gift of children to those expectant mothers who are distressed about finances or the future.  And again, he goes too far when he says that married people should beware of "importunate prayers" because God may just go ahead and give them a child that will make them miserable for the rest of their lives (p 72).  ("Take that, you peons.  Don't question Me.  Don't keep praying to Me.  Yes, I did say to pray persistently.  But don't be too persistent.  Because then I'll teach you a lesson.  Ha!  That'll show you not to keep begging."  Uh, yeah, that's not my God.)

Thing is, there's some truth there.  It's not good to keep demanding things of God as if we are the boss and He is the servant.  But the pietist apparently has a good knowledge of when he's praying in a holy way, as opposed to those who pray in grief and feel the accusations of Satan that they are Not Content Enough.

While there is much good to be found in this prayerbook [again, see the review over at Concordian Sisters] I really would much prefer Luther's Prayers or Gerhard's Meditations on Divine Mercy or even the Pastoral Care Companion.



One more thing:  Although the title is "Motherhood Prayers for All Occasions," it's not.  It's for the perinatal time; it's not for all occasions.*  The book is not for mothers whose kids are off in the army.  It's not for mothers whose kids are getting married or divorced.   It's not for mothers whose children have all died.  It's not for mothers whose kids have left the faith and/or left the family.  It provides prayers for the one particular niche, which is either a strength or weakness in the book, depending on your own perspective and place in life.

* Footnote:   Well, I guess in a way it's for all people,

no matter what the occasion, because the prayers use 

Bible verses which apply to anyone struggling.  But 

the specific application is only to that one portion of 

 motherhood.

Such an Obedient Wife!

They're telling me stories of things that happened in the hospital -- things I do not remember.

They tell me that when the medical staff removed my breathing tube, I didn't exactly remember to breathe.  The machine had been doing the work for me.  I was weak.  Breathing wasn't on the top of my priority list.

So Gary would notice me go 20 or 30 seconds without a breath.  My oxygen level would go down.  "Susan!  Breathe!"

So I would.

Apparently, after one of these big breaths, I pointed out to him that I was a Very Obedient And Submissive Wife.  I breathed when he told me to!

Hey, I figured he should appreciate the "obedience" for those brief moments.

the absolution

Jesus said, "Come unto Me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."  And that rest is that He forgives your iniquity and remembers your sin no more.

Hallucinations

A friend asked recently, "So what did you experience when you collapsed from the aneurysm?"

Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

The book/movie "Heaven Is For Real" has been popular.  Nearly all my life I've heard stories of near-death experiences.  So what did I experience?  Nothing.

Maybe I wasn't that near death?

Or maybe it was something else?

My pastor is diligent to visit those in the hospital in serious condition.  Coma?  The guy needs to be visited frequently!  Surgeries, drugs, and breathing tubes?  Pastor is there a lot!  He says such times of weakness (especially with the drugs and anesthesia) are prime opportunities for Satan to wreak havoc in a Christian's life.  It's critical that the person be receiving the Gospel ... even if the person isn't intellectually comprehending the words.  It's a battle of God's angels versus Satan's angels.

I've heard stories of horrible hallucinations while people were on narcotics.  Even though I did hallucinate, it wasn't ugly.  I remember having an argument with myself about talking to one of the people in my room -- a person I knew full-well was NOT there.  But that person-who-wasn't-there was talking to me, and it would've been rude not to answer.  I remember reaching out to brush away stuff that was hanging too close to the hospital bed -- stuff that wasn't there.  I remember reaching for a pair of scissors (who knows why?!) that I just couldn't get a good grip on ... merely because they weren't there.  I hated the narcotics and the unreality it foisted on my mind.  But looking back, I'm realizing that nothing was horrible.  Monsters did not chase me.  Nobody threatened my life.  And best of all, there were no demons. 

And I wonder if any of this plays into the lack of "near-death experience."

Death cannot destroy forever.
From our fears, care, and tears
it will us deliver.
It will close life's mournful story,
make a way that we may
enter heavenly glory.

Lord, my shepherd, take me to Thee.
Thou art mine.
I was Thine even e'er I knew Thee.
I am Thine for Thou hast bought me.
Lost I stood,
but Thy blood free salvation brought me.

Without Electricity

Can't clean. 
Too dark to dust or pick up.
No electricity for the vacuum.
Can't mop or wash; no water.

Can't call Mom or Paul to chat; phone needs electricity. 

Can't watch television or videos.
Can't chat with friends on the computer.
Can't write blog posts.

Can't soak in the bathtub.
(Can't flush either.)

Can't go for a walk (because it's still storming outside).
Likewise, can't do anything with the garden.

Can't play board games because it's too dark.
Can't play piano; it's digital.
Can't do baking-chores.

Can't work the garage-door opener.
Can't run fans or air-conditioning.
Can't get snacks or cool drinks from the fridge.
Can't leave the porch light on for the one still at work.
Can't have him microwave his supper when he gets home.

CAN read next to the west window, until the sun is closer to setting.
CAN talk to the other people in the family.
CAN go to bed early.

Hoo-boy -- we are dependent!

Thanks be to God that we had no damage -- only inconveniences.

Middle Age

Forty is the old age of youth.
Fifty is the youth of old age.

Yes.

a French proverb

found in Jan Karon's 

"A Continual Feast"

Jesus, the Plagiarist?

Well, maybe it's not considered plagiarism, seeing as how the Lord wrote the Old Testament.  So if He takes the words from the psalms and "makes them His own" in the High Priestly Prayer, that's not really stealing words, is it?

John 17: Sanctify them in Your truth; Your word is truth.
Psalm 119 (resh): The entirety of Your word is truth.

What's extra-nifty, though, is that the bulk of the High Priestly Prayer is about Jesus' praying for the preservation of His apostles and other disciples.  They're about to face temptation.  They're going to fall away.  And He prays for the Father to keep them.

And that's what Psalm 119:153-160 is all about.  "Revive me."  "Plead my cause."  "Redeem me."

Katie's Kloset

What do you do with used medical equipment when Grandma or your dad no longer needs a walker or a shower-chair or a Cpap or whatever?  In Waukesha County, people can donate medical supplies to Katie's Kloset.  If you're in need of medical supplies, you can borrow it from Katie's Kloset (assuming the item you need is currently available). 

It's a great way to clear unused supplies out of your home and get them into the hands of people who need them!

It's a great way to save money if you need an item for only a few weeks or a couple of months!



A year or so ago, I was wishing there were a way for our congregation to set up something like this, but the space just isn't available.  And now I find out that there's no need, because somebody else in the county is already providing this match-making service.

"Going to Church"

When I was little, we went to "church."  "Going to church" meant Sunday morning or maybe a Wednesday-evening Lenten service.  It didn't mean dropping by the building to pick up the sweater you left there yesterday.

In recent years, friends talk about going to "Divine Service" or to "worship" or to "Mass" or to "prayers" or even to "celebration service."

[that moment when the light bulb clicks on]

Augsburg Confession, Article 7:  The holy Christian church is

the assembly of all believers among whom the Gospel is preached in its purity and the holy sacraments are administered according to the Gospel.

If you look at it that way, "going to church" doesn't sound any different from "Divine Service"!