blessings on the beasts

My favorite picture from last year's blessing when we went 

to the local campground to bless the pets 

of the homeless population there (other campers, too).

We honor St. Francis today with our annual blessing of the animals. I'm trying to steal a moment here before heading to the church for that occasion. When that's over I'll head to the university for homecoming events and to hang out at the church booth!

It's been a loooonnnng week. And to think that I forgot to mention that I had a newsletter to write and put out when I itemized my list of to dos earlier! It turned out to be eight pages long--not bad for a small, struggling church! At least we're busy while we're at it.

Ken is off to the mountain this weekend on the closing retreat with his Companions in Christ class. It's been a great experience for him to lead the group, and though he's been ambivalent at times about doing it again immediately (January), I think the impending reality that he will miss his role, and the community formed, has led him to offer it again. So says the newsletter, anyway!

Tomorrow we dedicate our new plantings, and I am even fairly relaxed about Tuesday's breast cancer service. I've recruited two wonderful sopranos to sing Andrew Lloyd Webber's Pie Jesu. They will sing at the end of the service, before the blessing and dismissal, and while they sing members of the congregation will be invited to light congregational candles from the pascal candle in the sanctuary, a symbol of the lives lost whose light shines on in love and our memories. At the dismissal those with candles will be asked to place them in a large metal tub filled with sand outside the door, where the collective light will shine and burn until the candles burn out. I get goosebumps thinking about it. Now we just cross our fingers and offer prayers that people will come to the service! It DID get a "best bets" write up in the coming events section of the paper yesterday. Thank you for that, Tennessean!

Off to get dressed and try to visit blogs before I head out the door. I sure have missed you all this week!

monday miscelany

Another musing from the night: Do you ever wonder if there's something significant about looking at the clock (digital) and seeing your birthdate? It can happen twice a day, though for many the odds are low for actually seeing it twice. This morning at 5:13 I looked at the clock and there it was. There's a 1 in 720 chance of this happening, but it seems to happen to me regularly. Just wondering if anyone else has this experience.

* * * * * * * * *

Ken's birthday was Saturday, and though that day wasn't the best on record I pulled off a hit with a surprise dinner party for him on Sunday. And wasn't he cooperative? He went to buy wine on Saturday and called me from the store to ask what he should pick up, unaware that he was playing right into my hands with suggestions about what some of our friends like to drink. Heh heh heh.

We had a yummy meal of pork tenderloin a la Pampered Chef; scalloped potatoes in the crock pot; a seven-layer salad, french bread, appetizer and dessert brought by guests; and a thrilling final 30 seconds of the Titans football game that Ken had been watching when everyone arrived. (The Titans had possession with 33 seconds left in the game, and in the last 6 seconds on the fourth down scored a touchdown to win. Phew!) But best of all we had a happy birthday boy, laughed a lot and enjoyed good company. A fun night.

* * * * * * * * *

Spaghetti dinner this weekend. I'm heading to the church this morning to finish painting the bathrooms. At some point of consciousness during the night I felt overwhelmed by all that needs to be done for this event, but in fact it's pretty much under control. A few details to take care of, but otherwise the committees are taking care of their end and all is well. I simply need to remain conscientious about those details!

* * * * * * * * *

Indulge me for a moment to brag on my vestry. At yesterday's meeting they:

• Voted to submit a resolution for our diocese's annual convention in January encouraging the purchase of Bishops Blend coffee and teas to help support Episcopal Relief and Development. The makers of Bishops Blend 1) buy coffee from fair trade vendors and 2) give 15% of their profits to ERD to support those in need globally and locally. The resolution specifically requests that the diocesan office serve make a practice of serving BB.
• When it came time to vote on the "fair share" request of the diocese to support its budget in 2010, our treasurer suggested and the vestry affirmed that we commit to more than the requested amount. The motion passed unanimously and enthusiastically.

My people rock!

It feels like my week is off to a good start. How about yours?

one definition of stupid

Ken closed his business a couple of months ago. Financial misfortune--like my loss of income last year, an unpaid debt from a client in the neighborhood of $19,000, and the economic slowdown--led to a bleak outlook toward keeping ahead of legal obligations and the very real financial responsibilities of owning a business. Making that decision was agonizing for him, but he felt it was necessary to prevent digging a deeper hole of debt from which he couldn't emerge. He is doing his best to meet persistent obligations (monthly payment on his van, purchased for the business, and taxes), but other things he simply has to let go.

One of those things is a payment his insurance company is charging him. In his first year in business he anticipated a certain volume of business, number of employees on his crew, and so on, and his premium was based upon that estimation. An audit done after that period was completed showed that his risks had in fact been greater than anticipated because of the success he was having with his business. They are charging him an additional $1900 for the risk he actually incurred, even though there were no claims against the policy during that time.

From where I sit this is completely wrong. The whole purpose of insurance underwriting is to evaluate anticipated risk and rate premiums based on experience. That's why an audit is done, to correct the information used to evaluate risk so that premiums can be adjusted. The insurance company takes a risk and the insured takes a risk. That's the nature of the insurance business. To come back to the client after the fact and say, "we should have charged you more so we're going to do that now," is absurd. Would they have issued a refund if for some reason he had actually incurred less risk? I don't think so!

What's even more absurd? The *&$(*# insurance company is expending time and resources hounding him for payment. He has explained to two attorneys that the business has closed because he can't meet his obligations. He has explained that he lacks sufficient funds for tax payments. This morning he received a subpoena to appear in court at the end of July. Give me a break! They've already spent more money to pursue this than they can recover. Have they not heard of cutting losses? Cost-benefit? Did someone have a bad experience with a contractor and decide to take it out on the next one they encountered? This is just plain stupid.

Unfortunately this is all eating at Ken while he is trying to set his sights on finding work to help keep our heads above water. (After that we'd really like to ski on top of it --metaphorically speaking!) For now I'm doing my very best imitation of a motivational speaker, complete with breakfast pep talks (which this morning elicited from him a very hearty chuckle!) and reminders that there is no room for negative thinking. (His moon must be in gemini--he's either a happy camper or feeling that he's teetering on the edge of an abyss, but not in a bi-polar kind of way.)

Anyway, all positive thoughts, energy and prayers sent this direction would be greatly appreciated. He needs some raising up!

release, part 2

A further word on the "holding on" stuff from the other day.

My eye has been twitching. At lunch after bible study last week I asked two of my companions, both with medical training, if they knew of anything I could do to relieve the twitching of my eye. I attributed its origin to stress. My medical intuitive friend stopped what she was doing and focused her concentration on my energy. Her read was that I was holding on to something that had to do with someone else's concerns, and her counsel was that I detach myself from the outcome of the scenario in question.

I've known about medical intuition for several years. I learned of it through the work of Carolyn Myss (pronounced mace, for those of you that wonder) while I was in seminary and became fascinated by the notion of reading intuitively a person's energy to discern something of their health and physical well being. According to Myss our biography becomes our biology: what happens to us is stored in our bodies at a cellular level and affects our physiology. The examples she uses to illustrate this are fascinating, and the art/science of this make sense to me. When I learned that one of my bible study participants was a medical intuitive I felt like I had received a double blessing from God. I now had the opportunity to look at life through this different lens.

There are multiple things at work here. When Medical Intuitive friend told me that at issue was someone else's difficultly, I immediately thought of a family situation that reared its head recently. The matter affects Ken very directly, but since what affects him also affects me there is complexity in this. I also have relationships through him, so I am affected by this on several levels: one is my concern for how this impacts and plays out for Ken, one is how the effect of this on him affects our relationship, and one is how my relationship with the person(s) in question is affected.

In terms of the former, I can advise and counsel, but the action is up to Ken. Although I understand the idea of detaching myself from the outcome, especially since it is not "my" outcome, this is truly a challenge, since the outcome will have considerable consequences on our life one way or the other. Yet Medical Intuitive friend suggested that though this matter was involved in what I was "holding" physically, there were other things, too. Things that are not mine. And trust is involved.

This is where it gets dicey for me. The idea of holding someone else's stuff makes sense, and yet is unconscious. I get it, intuitively, but the specifics are not available to me at present. Accessing those specifics is the critical first part. Doing the work of releasing them will involve some intense work of changing my behavior, and in so doing, impacting Ken's behavior. I was totally unaware that I was holding his stuff, but simultaneously it makes sense that this is true. Without betraying the tangled wounds that are Ken's story, my compassion for him and what he has experienced is bound up in the unspoken contract of my commitment to him. And the trust part? The foundation of my relationship with him is my experience of his trustworthiness.

So I have stuff to unpack in the "let's isolate the parts and deal with each one" sense, as well as the shedding of what I have been holding--someone else's baggage--sense. It's intricate and tender and in need of healing. But this is the journey before me, before us. Prayers are coveted, and support desired. It's going to be an interesting road to travel.

hubby rocks!

I've known what I've needed for a while: a corner cabinet (think kitchen) on which to set a countertop. Cabinet for storage, countertop for creating! It was the first necessary step toward getting my office under control once and for all (well, and the closet...).

It finally occurred to me last week to call the Restore to see if they had one. Restore is Habitat for Humanity's retail effort that resells what other people no longer want or need. Ken has used them a lot in his business, and donated lots of items when he has done remodels. "Sorry," Kim told me. I would continue to wait. Until the phone rang Saturday afternoon just as we were getting ready to leave for Molly's wedding and Kim told us that she had just gotten one in, slightly damaged but otherwise brand new. I asked her to hold it until we could come see it Tuesday morning when they opened next.

The timing couldn't have been better. Junior was here briefly overnight Monday, so the three of us headed to Restore when they opened. The cabinet would do! We loaded it into Ken's truck and headed home. I was giddy with excitement. Until we couldn't get the cabinet through the door. Take it back? No such luck--at the Restore, all sales are final! Window, Junior suggested?

As you can see in this first photograph, bringing the cabinet through the window of my office is exactly what they did. My dashed hopes were swept away and we settled the cabinet into place. Or near enough. An electrical outlet would be covered, and some finagling would be in order to address that. No problem.

Yesterday Ken set about taking care of the outlet problem, we assembled the countertop we had and Ken installed it. I got myself in gear to begin the process of overhauling the office, measuring furniture, making decisions, and moving things about. Like staging a house for sale, I am doing my utmost to reuse things that I already have. I had the perfect solution for one problem, but implementing it was a challenge. I said to Ken, "how hard would it be...?" None! was his reply, he'd just get his reciprocating saw, complete with the new blade he'd received for free.

So I documented!

An hour later I had another question for him, and once again he set to helping me resolve my problem. And another hour later, another problem put in his hands was resolved. Ah, it's good to have a hubby who's handy and willing to have a honey do list. Did I mention that he rocks?

I spent the rest of the day starting to square away the office. It's going to take some doing, and the closet is still an issue and requires attention. But finally the project is underway, shoved out of the planning and dreaming stages and on the road to reality.

Life is good. Especially in my office.

counting the days

The first thing to report is that Ken seems to be A-okay. The infection that was likely in his lungs has lost its punch and his white blood cell count is normal ounce again. Lungs sounds clear. Heart rhythm is normal. Relief! He continues to be short of breath and fatigued, but all signs point to his cardiomyopathy. He has not been getting the exercise he needs for a stronger heart, and that is the only thing that will bring him back to healthier functioning. Now that his feet are getting the proper care the podiatrist has indicated that in another week he is free to walk.

Thank you all for your prayers and concern. These have been days lived in suspension while we didn't know what was going on.

The second thing to report is that we are telecommunicating on all fronts once again. I am not wireless at the moment, which is not the end of the world as long as I keep my computer in my office. We have a new router that we have not been able to connect adequately, and no matter how many times we "retry" and follow all the instructions, we are still batting zero. I will live "hardwired" for now and return to solving the wireless problem later.

The third thing is that we are now back on course for our departure Sunday to Melrose!!! See that door to the right? Imagine walking through that door to a porch running 30 feet or so across the front of the house with a view looking toward the west. That is pre-sunset light you see through the doorway. Take a seat on the glider, one of the porch chairs, or climb into the hammock and settle in for happy hour. It's a family tradition and when you're at Melrose, you're family! (For some reason I can't locate my pictures of the porch during HH, or I'd post those!).

I can post this picture of the view just after a late afternoon thunderstorm. I love the mist in the valleys between us and the Savannah River. Don't you just want to pull up a chair and stare? Well then, come on!!

sixes and sevens today

This morning's post comes from a remote location: Ken's office. We switched communication carriers yesterday from AT&T to Charter (an economic decision), and whatayaknow, my wireless router only takes input from a phone line! (Ah, the speed at which changing technology makes perfectly good accessories obsolete.) Ergo, no internet on my computer until we resolve that situation. And let's not jump to conclusions about how relatively simple that would be--a boatload of ideas are afloat here about the least expensive way to accomplish this! In addition, only one of our three land-line phones are operating. This, after the guys came back TWICE yesterday to resolve that same problem once already and to take care of another installation matter they overlooked on the first run. I'm not happy about any of this, but I'm not spewing discontent the way Ken is. Let's just say that's not pretty.

As if that isn't enough to throw my equilibrium, we are also on pins and needles today for Ken. We are going on the fourth week of his less-than-good health. He is walking with less pain, thank goodness, but reality hit last night that foot health, while manageable, won't ever be restored. Picture a grumpy person. But that's the least of our issues. He has been short of breath, the white blood cell count is out of whack, and antibiotics to counter whatever infection is at work have not done the trick. This morning he goes for additional bloodwork and CAT scans. There's a chance that the infection is in his heart (though his lungs continue to generate phlem). He has decided to close the LLC aspect of his business which, in short, means no more big jobs, and no more employees. The expense of that was eating him alive in this slow economy. Did I suggest picturing a grumpy person? Add mopey to that. I'm not trying to be unkind. It's just a reality with which I live at present.

When I have a moment to myself--standing in the kitchen with a topped off cup of coffee in my hand--I look out the window at a world that looks radically different from the agitated and swishy one (think washing machine) that I experience within. It's quiet, peaceful, blossoming and green, and the morning light seems to caress every aspect of my view. It serves to remind me that other worlds are available to me, I simply need to visit them (in my mind, in my heart, in my dreams...) and stay open to looking at it all with a broader perspective. I wish I could wave a wand over Ken that would serve to encourage him to depart from his chaos and disappointments. I have lived in those shoes (pardon any projected pun), and I choose not to let them do my walking for me. "Give me grace to accept the things I cannot change, and the will to change what I can." Or something like that. It works.

The TV/phone/Internet issues? They'll get fixed. Maybe not as soon as I would like to, but I'll deal with it. His health? For myself I can pray and take action where I am able. I can, and do, seek support and affection from my circle of loved ones. For him I am here and available to him, and will do what needs to be done to support and provide care for him. These are not fun times, but I've been through worse. We'll get through it.

We can use your prayers, your good thoughts, your candles, your hopes, and all other good things sent our way. Winning lottery ticket numbers would be welcome as well. I promise, we'll play them.

when the shoe doesn't fit

Get rid of it! It turns out that Ken's foot pain is the result of wearing the wrong shoe size. He's managed to do this all of his adult life, we think. I know, go figure! The podiatrist diagnosed bone spurs on both feet, a tearing tendon in one, and shortened achilles tendons in both legs. A pair of inserts and orthopedic crocs later, Ken is a new man.

He nearly burst through the door with his enthusiasm running ahead of him when he came home, his pain eased for the first time in weeks. He headed straight for the bedroom with gleeful purpose--purging his shoes. The picture of the chair laden with his discards made me laugh, as well as grab for the camera. By the end of the day the shoes had been delivered to Goodwill and he was still riding high.

The next morning I reached into the closet for something and realized I lacked the right vantage point to get to what I needed. There was a row of shoes in the way! I'm not sure why these shoes and boots continue to occupy space (and tantalize the puppy), but the balloon of my previous laughter felt burst by their presence. Perhaps these aren't the wrong size after all--the test now is whether or not the insert fits into the shoe appropriately. And here I thought I was going to be able to tease him about parting with what so many woomen think of as necessary accessories (and who knows, maybe men, too).

Not Ken, however. Shoes, to him, are about getting the job done, be it a work boot or a dress shoe. There are no duplicates in different colors or styles. He simply wears what he needs. Now his simple need is the correct size.

There are, no doubt, multiple metaphors in this. The one that grabs my attention is about what it costs us to exist in anything that doesn't fit us well. Shoes bring on physical pain. Clothing, discomfort and self-consciousness. Image--now there's something that we could spend hours discussing. And of course there are relationships and vocations, too. If it weren't Sunday morning and I didn't have the need to get to church nipping at my heels, I'd probe all of that a bit. Perhaps it is just as well that I leave the canvas blank for the reader to draw their own conclusions (or paint their own scenarios). I'll simply offer this invitation. Is there a "shoe" in your closet that doesn't fit? Just think of the possibilities if that space opened up for one that does...

Happy trekking.