Saturday, October 1
It’s been raining for three days.
Muddy waves churn from the newly dug drain field in the side yard.
I’m wearing a Tshirt when I meet D at the airport.
I take along a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and a jacket.
He changes in Bob Evans’ restroom.
His blood has thinned after living in South Florida for four months.
Our daughter’s histamine train is out of control
but puts on the brakes when she sees her daddy.
We will head north this morning for one last visit
because who knows how long it’ll be before we can return.
We take our skis for my sister to store.
She can use them if she wants.
They’re cross-country, not downhill.
I tried downhill once. It’s not safe.
This cross-country, downhill move from north to south
is in its last days.
We’re seeing last things and doing last things
as Matthew churns toward Haiti.
I’m worried about homes built in the side of a hill
and kids with no real home.
Some of their lives were churned when the earth churned.
I wonder if they understand, if they’re scared,
if their caretakers are making plans to keep them safe.
We’re eating a pot of vegetable soup right now
as the whole world churns.
I haven’t participated in the 31 days blogging challenge for a couple of years and totally forgot about it as we’re churning through our own chaos here. My dear friend and prayer warrior sister, Diana Trautwein reminded me with her day 1 post on paying attention. It struck me that since October is move month for us and since I’ve totally been neglecting this blog, and since I often operate on a whim anyway… it might be worth trying to write a few words each day–maybe some really bad poetry, maybe just three lines… some way to keep a record of this month. The photo images may be ho-hum, and I don’t even have a fancy button… But hey, I just wrote something…